When the lift arrived on the seventh floor, Suzanne turned left along the threadbare carpet and stopped outside room number 721. She was just about to open the door when she got the distinct feeling she was being watched. Turning, she thought she caught a glimpse of movement from one of the rooms further down the corridor. There was a click as though of a door being quietly closed—and then nothing. Suzanne stared at the empty corridor, then turned the key, and entered her own room. Within minutes she was back in bed and this time, she had no trouble falling asleep.
The following morning, Suzanne awoke bright and early, refreshed despite her broken sleep and raring to go. She was keen to get on with the official business of the trip: to talk to government ministers and civil servants about how to level the playing field for drugs made in Africa, against the more expensive imports from Europe and the United States. And she wanted to make time for the unofficial business: finding out what she could about the activities of Banda and what could be done to shut them down. She was not naive enough to think she could solve all the problems of counterfeiting singlehandedly—or even with her little team of collaborators—but meeting Sara and hearing Ruth’s heart-wrenching story, not to mention the tragedy of Samuel’s friend George, had personalised the whole issue for her and, despite her boss’s misgivings, she was determined to do something to prevent other families going through the same heartache.
The corridor was empty as she left her room for breakfast, but once again, she had the feeling she was being watched. She peered down the corridor, dim in the early morning light, and tried to decide which door it had been that she heard being closed the previous night. She thought it was 726, across the hallway and a couple of rooms down, but she couldn’t really be sure. Maybe it was the one on the other side, or even on the same side as her own room. She’d been convinced she heard something when she reached her room the night before, but now she was beginning to doubt her own memory and senses.
Suzanne was seated at a table on the veranda, enjoying mango, paw-paw and coconut from the hotel’s own gardens, when the woman from the previous evening strolled into the dining room. This time, she was wearing a large floppy straw hat, but her hair and sunglasses made her instantly recognisable. She waved away the table next to Suzanne, which the waiter offered her, and disappeared instead into one of the darker recesses of the room. Sitting outside and dazzled by the sunshine, Suzanne could no longer see her, but she had the distinct impression the woman was watching her; she felt her shoulder blades prickle.
‘Pull yourself together,’ Suzanne told herself, ‘you’re being ridiculous. She’s a total stranger who just happens to be staying at the same hotel. Why would she be staring at you?’
Finishing her coffee, Suzanne set off through the foyer to meet her driver for the short journey to Chibesa’s office. The two spent the whole morning on plans for the rest of the trip, including meetings in the Copper Belt and in Lusaka, plus a couple of short visits to South Africa and Kenya. Suzanne had told Sir Frederick she wasn’t sure how long this latest trip would last, but she’d cleared her diary of all other commitments in London for the next three weeks.
‘And that will take us up to Christmas,’ she told Chibesa, ‘I need to get home in time to spend the holiday with Charlie.’
By lunchtime, the plan was more or less complete and Chibesa had a long list of logistical tasks to work on.
‘Let’s grab a quick bite to eat,’ he said, ‘and then you can go and see WB and Sara while I get on with this lot.’ They’d all agreed that for the time being the two fugitives should stay hidden. Suzanne had learnt the previous day that the large house she’d visited was the home of a former Zambian Ambassador to Uganda, who had become friendly with WB during the early days of his mission. Now retired, he was living well for a government official, and although Chibesa wasn’t completely certain where his money had come from, WB was willing to vouch for the man, and it was certainly a good place for the pair to hide.
As on her previous trip, Chibesa took Suzanne across the road to his favourite fried chicken stall for their lunch. As Suzanne bit into the spicy coating and wiped the juice from her chin with a serviette, she gazed idly around the crowded street.
‘I don’t believe it!’ she exclaimed, dropping the chicken leg back on her plate and wiping her fingers.’
‘What’s the matter, said Chibesa; isn’t it properly cooked?’
‘What? Oh no, it’s fine; great in fact. No, I’ve just seen a woman from the hotel staring at me from across the road, that’s all.
‘Well, it’s a public place, in a fairly small city,’ he said with a smile. ‘You’re bound to see someone you know, aren’t you?’
‘I suppose so,’ she said, picking up her chicken again. ‘It’s just that I keep seeing her wherever I go—and sometimes I feel she’s watching me.’
‘Maybe she recognises you from the hotel. Maybe she’s lonely. Is she travelling alone?’
‘Well, yes, I think so, but if she sees me in the hotel, I get the impression she’s trying to avoid eye contact with me.
‘Suzanne, you can’t have it both ways,’ Chibesa said, grinning. ‘Either she’s watching you—or she has no interest in you. It can’t be both.
Privately, Suzanne disagreed. The woman wouldn’t catch her eye when Suzanne looked directly at her; but if she looked away, she immediately got the feeling the woman’s eyes were boring into her back. However, she didn’t argue the point and when she looked across to the same place again, the woman was gone. Maybe she was imagining things. As Chibesa said, this was a small city. It was inevitable she was going to bump into the same people from time to time. And another white woman in the middle of Lusaka was difficult to miss.
Nevertheless, she thought as she left Chibesa to return to work and got into the car for the trip to the safe house, if I see her in the hotel this evening, I’m going to find some way to strike up a conversation. Maybe I can find out a bit more about her. There was something about the woman that made Suzanne think she should know her. I’ll find out her room number from the receptionist, she decided, and invite her to have dinner with me this evening.
14: ZAMBIA; DEC 2004
Back at the hotel, Suzanne chatted to a friendly receptionist and discovered that the red-headed woman was staying in room 726. As she stood in the elevator ascending slowly to the seventh floor, two thoughts hit her: that was the room from which she thought she had been spied upon; and if she could get room numbers so easily from the hotel staff, anyone else could probably do the same. Maybe I ought to think about moving rooms, or even hotels, she thought. This time, as she walked along the corridor, she kept a close eye on room 726. And sure enough, she saw the door was slightly ajar. Without waiting to think through the consequences, she stopped and slapped her hand hard against the panel, just below the spy hole. The door swung back and there was a thud, followed by a muffled yell and a string of colourful words, some of which Suzanne had never heard before.
‘You might as well come out; I know you’re watching me,’ she said. The door slowly swung open, revealing her ‘stalker’, who was holding her hand over her right eye.
‘Shit, that bloody well hurt.’
‘Well it serves you right!’ Suzanne said. ‘Don’t you think you’d better tell me who you are and why you’re following me?’ The woman slipped her sunglasses back on and stepped out of the way, waving her hand to indicate Suzanne should enter the room.
As Suzanne walked into the mirror image of her own room across the hall, the woman spoke once more.
‘I’m going to have a beautiful shiner in the morning!’ The voice was younger than Suzanne had noticed before—and suddenly very familiar. She spun around, shock running through her.
‘Charlie?’ She couldn’t believe she’d been fooled by a red wig, huge glasses and a couple of hats. No wonder the ‘stalker’ hadn’t wanted to sit close to her at breakfast.
‘Well, it’s taken long enough for the penny to drop, sis.’
‘Charlie, when did you arrive and what on earth are you doing here? And why the silly disguise?’
‘I flew down the day you did your stop-over in Nairobi. Got here the day before you did. And why do you think I’m here, you daft cow; to keep an eye on you, of course.’
‘On me? Why?’
‘Well, let me think: you’ve recently been burgled; your luggage has been interfered with; your close colleague has apparently disappeared; at least two children have died—and you’re out here playing Sherlock Holmes to stop a dangerous group of criminals singlehandedly. Can’t think why you might need some protection, can you?’
‘Oh, Charlie, that’s sweet of you…’
‘Besides, we’d run out of milk and this seemed more fun than popping down the shops.’ Charlie was laughing now and, against her will, Suzanne joined in. When they finally calmed down, she pointed to the long curly wig now lying discarded on the bed.
‘But why the disguise?’
‘Well, if I’d suggested coming with you, what would you have said?’
‘Absolutely not!’
‘Precisely. And I thought it might be easier to keep close to you without any of the bad guys realising who I was, if I tried out some of my old acting roles.’
‘Yes, you were never happier than when you were rehearsing for the end of term plays, were you? A regular little Julia Roberts.’
‘I reckon it was only my acting skills that kept me from being expelled on more than one occasion.’
‘Although I’m not sure about the choice of role this time. You’re hardly inconspicuous.’
‘It’s called hiding in plain sight, sis. No-one’s going to suspect a flamboyant young woman of being a spy, now are they?’
Suzanne was struck by the phrase her sister had used: hiding in plain sight. She’d heard someone else use the same phrase just recently, but she couldn’t remember whom. She dismissed the stray thought and nodded at Charlie.
‘Very true. I noticed you, couldn’t fail to really, but never for one minute suspected…’ Suzanne shrugged and smiled ruefully. ‘But the question is, how are we going to get you home again?’ Charlie looked startled.
‘Home? I’m not going home, Suzanne. I’m staying right here to look after you.’
‘But I don’t need looking after.’
‘Are you sure about that, sis?’
‘Completely.’
‘So tell me: when did you realise I was Charlie and not some stranger who was following you around for nefarious purposes.’
‘When you talked about the shiner, and used your own voice, of course.’
‘Which was after you’d come into my room?’
‘You know it was.’
‘So don’t you think someone who’s willing to enter a stranger’s bedroom, completely alone, without warning anyone where they’re going, might need all the protection they can get? I’m going nowhere, Suzanne, so you’d better get used to it.’
Suzanne glared at Charlie, unable to think of a suitable reply. Then she finally broke into a huge smile and hugged her sister.
‘Okay, you win; welcome to the team. But you’re going to have to work on your surveillance skills.’
If the waiters in the hotel’s restaurant were surprised by the new friendship between the two English women, they were too well-trained to say anything. Suzanne and Charlie, back in character, had breakfast together the next morning. Then Suzanne was collected by the Ministry car while Charlie took another to the local game park, which she’d declared loudly in the foyer she wanted to see.
A few hours later, Suzanne and Chibesa were just walking up the steps to the front door of the safe house when a taxi drew up and an elegant young woman with long dark hair stepped out, carrying a large hold-all. When they’d made their arrangements earlier, Charlie had said she was looking forward to spending some time as herself, and would change at the game park. She joined the other two at the top of the steps and together they entered the cool entrance hall.
It was while Suzanne was introducing her sister to the rest of the team that she remembered where she’d heard the phrase about hiding in plain sight. WB had used it when he talked about Sara’s papers he’d been given for safekeeping. It was this memory, as much as the fact that none of her co-conspirators seemed at all surprised to hear Charlie was in Zambia, that made Suzanne realise her sister hadn’t been the only one making plans behind her back. She made a note to herself to ask Chibesa who was funding this trip. She didn’t think Sir Frederick would be at all impressed if any of it came out of his budget. Introductions made, tea and biscuits ordered, the five sat around the large oak table and looked at one another.
‘Okay,’ said Chibesa, ‘where do we start?’ Charlie gave a little cough.
‘Well, I’ve been doing a little searching on the internet,’ she said. Her colour was higher than Suzanne was used to seeing and she seemed to be very nervous, fidgeting in her seat and twisting her fingers together. ‘Using Sara’s papers and what we know about Banda’s customers, I thought I’d see if I could track the money.’
‘Sara’s papers? But when did you…?’
‘I uploaded the files from your phone when you were asleep the night before you flew out,’ she said biting her lip and looking apprehensive. ‘It was after I’d spoken to Chibesa and arranged to fly out here once you’d left for Kenya.’ Suzanne just sighed and shook her head.
‘How are Banda’s customers going to help?’ asked Chibesa. ‘Surely all their transactions will be in cash?’
‘Most of them, yes. But we know they supplied the government pharmacy here in Lusaka where you bought Samuel’s medicine.’
‘And that won’t have been a cash transaction!’
‘Exactly! And there must be other examples you’ll be able to get from your Ministry contacts, that we can use to cross reference. But in the meantime, I’m working my way through the first set of records.’
‘And have you found anything?’ asked WB.
‘Well, the trail is very convoluted and I lost it at the moment in the Cayman Islands, but I’ll keep working on it.’
‘And can you put a name to the account?’
‘Not yet, but I’m sure I will.’
‘Charlie, I’ve had an idea.’ Chibesa took off his glasses and rubbed them on the bottom of his shirt. ‘How good are you at hacking into phone records?’ The question sounded so innocuous; it almost passed Suzanne by. Almost, but not quite.
‘Hacking? Charlie’s not a hacker,’ she said indignantly. Chibesa and WB just smiled at her while Charlie pulled a wry face.
‘How do you think I was able to find the money, sis?’ she asked. Then she turned back to Chibesa. ‘I’m not sure, but I’ll have a go. It depends which network you want me to get into.’
As the rest of the team chatted about the next steps in their investigation, Suzanne walked to the window and leaned her forehead against the cool glass. There was obviously quite a lot she didn’t know about her sister. She wondered what other secrets she was hiding—and whether she would ever be completely honest. Suzanne still suspected there might be more to Charlie’s flight from Greece than she was willing to share—but this obviously wasn’t the time or the place to go into that.
15: ZAMBIA; DEC 2004
Suzanne flipped through the papers Chibesa had printed out for her. They’d been working all day on the outline for the pilot study and it was coming together well. She would visit some of the factories manufacturing drugs in Southern Africa, get an overview of the situation across the local industries, and then pick one or two from each country that they could work with. Then she would set up training courses and mock audits, all aimed at bringing the chosen companies up to a standard that would allow them to make products under licence from the multinationals. That way they could compete both with expensive imports and cheap counterfeits. And once the pilot companies had reached the right standard, it would be easier to roll out better controls across the region.
&
nbsp; ‘Which ones would you suggest I visit here in Zambia?’ she asked, running her finger down the list of companies. ‘They don’t necessarily have to be the best; but they do need to have a management team committed to making the project work.’
‘There’s only a few,’ Chibesa replied. ‘You’re going to have to look at all of them, I’m afraid.’
‘But some of them won’t be suitable…’
‘Yes, I know that, and you can explain that once you’ve done your audit, but this is as much a hearts and minds exercise as anything else. This is a small industry and there are some very proud owners around—and if you don’t leverage your trip and spend at least a couple of hours with each of them, you’ll alienate all the ones you miss out and reduce the possibility of your objectives ever being achieved.’
Suzanne sighed, wishing Chibesa didn’t always reduce everything to management-speak. He’d be talking about low-hanging fruit and pushing the envelope next. But she also knew he was right.
‘Okay, let’s do this,’ she said. It would be good to get at least one country’s industry audited and the pilot companies into the plan this time around. ‘Can we put together a timetable and work out how long it’s going to take?’
As Chibesa had said, there was only a handful of Zambian companies and most were in Lusaka or within a short distance so she decided to get those visits done first.
‘If necessary, I’ll do the long distance ones next time I come out here,’ she said.
‘Well, there’s only really one that requires much travel,’ Chibesa said, ‘and even that can be done in a day if you don’t mind getting the early flight.’
‘And by early flight, you mean…?’
‘Eight-thirty,’ he said with a grin. ‘You’re in Africa, remember; nothing happens much before then.’
‘And where will I be going?’
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