Cashback

by Duncan James

  ***

  Eventually, the two documents found their way into the South African newspapers, and immediately the government there, which in the past had been reluctant to condemn its neighbour, turned against the Zimbabwean leadership. So did every other country in the world that had not already done so. There was brief pressure on the UK government, which was accused of forging the documents in an attempt to discredit the Zimbabwean authorities, until Downing Street pointed out that the Finance Minister and the Governor of the Reserve Bank had both been accused of leaking the documents, which therefore had to be genuine.

  There was also an immediate reaction by the people of Zimbabwe, who were suffering enough already, and for most of whom this was the last straw. In many of the country's rural areas there were demonstrations demanding that the money be returned at the very least, or that the leadership should stand down; in some cases both. The police and the army, who plainly felt that their loyalty had already been tested to the limit, more or less stood by for once, and let people get on with it. Even in Bulawayo, where there was a limited protest, Captain Conteh and his men did little to prevent a largely peaceful march through the city centre. Certainly, they did not don riot gear and fire teargas as they might have done a few months ago.

  The Government steadfastly refused to discuss the issue with the opposition, who were having a field day. Even the state owned newspaper The Herald carried reports of the unrest caused by 'the unfounded rumours about the President', but their appeals for calm went largely unheeded. While the opposition was giving currency to even more rumours, about a popular uprising and even a coup, Ministers continued to stand behind the head of state.

  After a Cabinet meeting at which they all decided that they could withstand their immediate loss of their personal fortunes, a vote of no confidence in the leadership was quickly defeated in parliament. That was not to say, however, that all the president's cronies were comfortable with the situation in which they now found themselves. While it had been agreed in Cabinet that the generous State remuneration that they all received, plus even more generous expenses, would soon replenish their depleted coffers, many realised that the farms and land to which they had helped themselves earlier were now largely valueless. Some even ventured to think, although not to say, that the President's action in helping himself to even more cash from the State coffers was unwise to say the least, especially as the fact had now gained some public currency.

  Of course, the documents were forgeries circulated by the Government in London, but there remained unease in some quarters that the sacking and subsequent arrest of their colleague, the Finance Minister, for 'crimes against the State', might be seen as ill-judged, and could even be interpreted as evidence that the papers might, after all, be genuine. Some of those in the leadership were also far from convinced that it was the UK Government that had removed their bank deposits, again because the arrest of the chairmen of the two leading banks and the Governor of the Reserve Bank suggested otherwise. There was a distinct feeling in some quarters that the President was not being as open as he might have been about some aspects of this bewildering chain of events.

  Word of this unease quickly reached the leadership of the main opposition parties, who were equally quick to take advantage of it. Although they had no control over the media in Zimbabwe, they were able to make statements to, and to brief, the media in other countries, as well as print posters and newsletters for distribution internally.

  After a day or so, the Government became distinctly uneasy about the mood of the country, and of some of their erstwhile friendly neighbours. The lack of an immediate crackdown on the earlier signs of unrest had simply encouraged more demonstrations, especially in the rural areas, but also in the previously loyal townships. No end of orders to the military and police leadership produced any apparent improvement, probably because the management of those two bodies was in the same boat as most others in positions of power - impoverished by the sudden disappearance of their capital assets.?

  An increasingly jittery Cabinet met again to discuss the apparent worsening situation round the country, and to receive reports from the regions. It was obvious that things had deteriorated somewhat since their last meeting. Crowds of cheering, banner-waving people, who plainly had little to lose, were gathering in increasing numbers every day, demanding either the resignation of the Government or that the opposition should stage a coup. Reports from the Foreign Ministry suggested that countries aboard were taking a keen, but totally inactive, interest in what was going on. Of increasing concern, especially to the Interior Ministry, was that the loyalty of the police and the armed services appeared to have dwindled to the point where it could no longer be totally relied upon. Some of the few remaining aid agencies had decided to pull out, and even the 'war veterans', who had been quite useless in running the farms they had commandeered, were now leaving their new properties and taking to the streets, in some cases torching the farms before they left. This had the added effect of making the apparent wealth of some of the hierarchy dwindle even faster, as many of the farms had been handed to them to ensure their continued loyalty to the Government. That, too, was now in doubt.

  There still appeared, after all this time, to be no logical or factual explanation for the emptying of so many bank accounts belonging to so many 'top' people. Specialists in that particular black art had 'rigorously questioned' the chairmen of the two major banks during their arrest, but they had continued to protest their innocence of any wrongdoing. Neither had they been able to offer any explanation of what might have happened, not least because it had happened to them as well. The only thing that was certain was that there had been no major malfunction of the banking system or its computers, otherwise everyone in the country would have been affected, rather than just a chosen few.

  Reports of all this were, to a greater or lesser extent, reaching Oxford, where Robin probably knew more than most other citizens of that City, who had only the media to rely on. Robin also had the benefit of regular phone calls from Will, who in turn was being kept fully briefed by his network of contacts in Zimbabwe while he and Bonkers were enjoying a few days at the vineyard, where Will's parents were now happily settled. James and Beatrice Bartlett were following events in their old homeland with great, if now somewhat detached, interest. Other reports were also reaching Robin of overjoyed white farmers who had unexpectedly received a form of compensation through Justice for Farmers, but from an unknown source, and all this finally decided him to act, for the last time, against the corrupt leadership in Zimbabwe.

  Robin had already decided anyway to use his specialist knowledge of the banking security system for another purpose as well. He had been furious, on returning to Oxford, to discover that Rupert's attempt to arrange a presentation to the Bank of England of their new encryption programme had been unceremoniously rebuffed.

  "There was just no way I could get them interested," said Rupert crossly. "I couldn't even get access to the Head of Security, but was constantly shuffled off to the number two, a guy called Stan Griffin."

  "What was his role in life?" asked Robin.

  "Security Manager, I think he called himself," replied Rupert. "He maintained all along that there was nothing wrong with their present system, which was the best in the world and universally used."

  "Well, he's either lying, or hasn't been properly briefed by his boss," said Robin. "But even he must at least know about Jim Farlow, and if his activities don't prove that there is a grave fault in their present system, then nothing does."

  "Exactly," said Rupert. "Head in the sand stuff, this was."

  "I can understand them not wanting to admit publicly that their system is capable of being breached," said Robin, "but you'd think they might at least want to hear about a new system which is so much better."

  "Part of the problem, I'm sure," said Marian, "is that they have never heard of Computer Solutions. If we were one of the big players in the computer security business, we might h
ave had a better reaction."

  "One day we shall be," said Robin, "but in the meantime, we somehow have to get to see the top man in Threadneedle Street."

  "Well, I don't know what to do next, to be honest," admitted Rupert. "Neither Marian nor I have managed even to get through to the Head of Security's outer office, let alone speak to the man himself."

  The team was silent for a few moments, trying to think of a way through this apparent impasse.

  "Why don't we offer them a challenge?" suggested Robin thoughtfully.

  "How do you mean?" asked Marian.

  "Why don't I move a large sum into the man's personal account - say ?100,000 from our company reserves? We can then tell him that if he thinks there's nothing wrong with the banking encryption codes and its secure computing system, then he can jolly well move it back to where it came from. If he can't - and he won't be able to, as we know - then we can offer to do it for him, tell him how it was done, and present him with a system which is totally impervious to any future attempted intrusions of that sort."

  "Now that's what I call a good idea," said Rupert. "We can suggest he should transfer the money back to its original source before it becomes an embarrassment to him, which it would be if his boss, the Governor, discovered that his account had suddenly been credited with a sum of that size, apparently from nowhere."

  "Would you be able to do it?" asked Marian.

  "I don't see why not," said Robin. "What's the name of their Head of Security?"

  Rupert thumbed through some papers. "Alistair Vaughan," he declared at last.

  "Know anything about him?" asked Robin.

  "I think he used to be at Scotland Yard," replied Marian. "Fraud Squad, or something."

  "We shall need to be a bit careful, then," said Rupert. "He's probably quite a sharp cookie, if that's his background."

  "Probably," replied Robin. "If we go ahead with this, I think I'll keep well away from the presentation when we are eventually allowed to put on one for them."

  "With any luck," said Marian, "they'll think it was done by poor old Jim."

  "That would be helpful," admitted Robin. "Perhaps I'll have a word with him, if he's still around."

  It was not so easy this time, without Jim Farlow's help at the Bank of England, but eventually Robin succeeded in making a full refund to the Reserve Bank in Zimbabwe, and move a huge lump sum into the personal account of the Bank of England's Head of Security, Alistair Vaughan.

  Rupert rang Stan Griffin, and suggested he got his boss to check his account, where he would find an unexplained ?100,000 deposited. He told the Security Manager that if the combined talent of Threadneedle Street was unable to return the money to its original source before it became an embarrassment to its new owner, then Computer Solutions would be only too pleased to assist.

  Vaughan was furious, for several reasons. First of all, the idea that some stranger somewhere had been able to interfere with his personal account had been something of a shock, not least because it was supposed to be impossible. Secondly, he was equally cross that nobody had been able to discover where the money, so unexpectedly deposited, had come from, and that they were therefore unable to return it. Finally, he had the distinct impression that he and the Bank of England were being blackmailed, by some two-bit upstart company that no-one had ever heard of.

  Stan Griffin was being singularly useless, too. Having taken the phone call from Rupert Bland, it was Griffin who had suggested that Vaughan should take a look at his statement. They went together to the cash machine in the lift lobby next to Vaughan's office. Vaughan was staggered to find his balance in credit to the tune of ?99,772.14p.

  "What the hell's going on?" demanded Vaughan.

  "I wish I knew," replied a perplexed Griffin. "All I know is that I had a phone call saying that cash had been put into your account, so I thought I'd better tell you."

  "Who was the call from, for heaven's sake?" demanded the Head of Security.

  "A bloke from an outfit I've never heard of - Computer Solutions, or something - who's been pestering me for days wanting to come in and give us a presentation."

  "A presentation about what, man? Why don't you just start from the beginning," ordered Vaughan.

  "This chap, Rupert Bland, reckons our security system isn't half as secure as we think it is, and claims that his company has developed a much better encryption programme," explained Griffin to his boss. "That's what he wanted to demonstrate. Of course, I refused, and told him that there was nothing wrong with our system. He was very persistent, and eventually I told him to bugger off and stop bothering us. He wanted to talk to you, too, by the way. Anyway, I had a call from him again yesterday, saying he'd put a large sum of money into your account, and if our security system was so good, we should put it back where it came from. If we couldn't, he said he'd come and do it for us."

  "Bloody nerve," said a livid Paul Vaughan.

  "Of course, I never dreamt that he was capable of doing such a thing, but I thought I should tell you anyway."

  "Well, he's bloody well done it!" said Vaughan.

  "So I see," agreed Griffin.

  "I want to know where that money came from, and I want it sent back, and I want it done immediately, is that understood," said a frantic Vaughan. "And I want to know how he did it, and why our security system failed to stop it, and what you plan to do to prevent it happening again. And I want to know who the hell this chap is you've been dealing with, and why I wasn't told sooner. And I want to know all about this company he represents that you've never heard of. But above all, I want that money shifted out of my account, fast. And don't mention this to anyone, understood? Not a soul. It could be very embarrassing if people thought I was lining my own pockets in some way. Very embarrassing. Well, don't just stand there man - get on with it"

  "I'll do my best," said Griffin, edging backwards out of the door, "but I shall have to talk to people and get expert help."

  "Just don't tell them why, that's all," demanded Vaughan. "But get that money back where it belongs, and keep me informed."

  A miserable Stan Griffin scurried back to his own office, hardly knowing where to start. He was sorely tempted to ring Rupert straight away, and get him to sort things out. He's got us into this mess after all, so he can damn well get us out of it, thought Griffin. But then that's what he wants. Perhaps not such a good idea after all. Stan had only just slumped into the chair behind his desk, wondering what on earth to do first - or at all - when the phone rang.

  It was Vaughan.

  "And another thing," said his boss. "Find out where Farlow is and what he's doing and whether he has anything to do with this mob that's been ringing you up. And ask the police why he isn't in jail yet."

  Ah! Jim Farlow. That was a clue. He could certainly have done it - it's exactly what he's admitted having done, after all. But why? Certainly not revenge. But he could just be acting for Rupert Bland, for some reason, thought Griffin.

  He got on to the officer at the Yard who was dealing with the Farlow case, to be told that he, Farlow, was keeping strictly to the rules of his police bail, and that, as part of their investigations, they, the police, had confiscated Farlow's computer from his Highgate home some days ago.

  Not him, then. Unless he had used another computer, of course: perhaps one belonging 'Computer Solutions'.

  Two days later, accompanied by assorted experts and consultants, Griffin reported to his boss, Alistair Vaughan. Not that there was much to report. The money was still in Vaughan's account, and nothing Griffin could do, working with two outside teams of computer specialists, had thrown any light at all on where the money had come from or how it had got there. Farlow appeared not to be involved, although because of the police investigation, Griffin was forbidden from talking to the man, so he had no real way of finding out if there was a link between him and the people at Computer Solutions. He couldn't talk to them either, but for different reasons.

  Vaughan had been busy, too. He'd been on t
o one of his old contacts that was still at the Yard, but no end of ferreting around had turned up any likely leads. His man at the Yard had also checked up on Jim Farlow, and had come to the same conclusion - not involved. Alistair Vaughan had, however, managed to establish from Bill Denning at GXR that there had been some sort of brief interruption to their secure inter-bank satellite switching service at about the time that it was thought Vaughan's account had been accessed. Not that this gem of information got them anywhere at all, any more than it had with all the other cases they had looked at, from African leaders down to Ms. Gladys Hood. There was never a trace of what had caused the interference and where it had originated.

  Stan Griffin reported that he had done everything his boss had demanded of him, short of finding out where the mysterious deposit that had appeared in Vaughan's account had come from, and returning it. Which is why it was still there. Nobody he had consulted had been able to throw any light on the subject at all, and they could only conclude that Computer Solutions had somehow compromised what they had all hitherto believed to be an impregnable security system. The only solution appeared to be to get them in to explain themselves.

  "Tell me what you know about them, and the man who's been phoning you," said Vaughan.

  "Recently formed private company, properly registered, with offices in the Oxford Business Park," reported Griffin, consulting his notes. "They seem to have two major divisions, one dealing with new product development, and the other with trouble shooting. Still quite small, but developing fast - total staff about twelve at the moment. The chap who's been pestering me to make a presentation is Rupert Bland, who calls himself Managing Director of the new products division. Nicely spoken bloke, obviously quite bright, educated at Oxford etc etc.," concluded Griffin.

  "Who's funding them?" asked Vaughan.

  "Don't know," replied Griffin. "A bit of venture capital as start-up funds, but too soon to have filed any sort of company accounts."

  "Do they have a Chairman or Chief Exec?" asked the Head of Security.

  "According to the register at Companies House, the other MD, dealing with problem solving for industry is a woman - Russian, I think. Her father is a Don at Oxford. There's another woman running the Admin side of the business, and the CEO is a chap called Jonathon Hood, known as Robin for obvious reasons. He's another Oxford graduate, who ?"

  Vaughan sat forward, and almost shouted, "Who did you say?"

  "Robin Hood," repeated Griffin. "Do you know him?"

  "I've certainly heard of him," replied an incredulous Alistair Vaughan. "His father is a close friend of my predecessor."

  "Small world, isn't it," said Griffin.

  "Right," said Vaughan. "Now I need time to think. You get back to tracking down the source of those funds so that I can get rid of them." He waived them away dismissively.

  Robin Hood, eh? That name again. It was Paul Bridges at the Cabinet Office who had first alerted him to the man, after he'd had lunch with his father. But nothing then made any sense, and Vaughan wasn't at all sure that anything connected to Robin Hood made any more sense now that it did.

  There was the odd business of the old lady Hood - Ms. Gladys, with the account at the Dutch bank. Jan Bergen, Vaughan's opposite number there, had been quite sure that a complete stranger had been responsible for tampering with her account, but then he didn't know about her more distant nephew, Robin.

  But it still seemed to Vaughan impossible that a newly graduated student from Oxford, however brilliant, could possibly crack a banking security system that was so totally secure. And even if he could, why would he put money in to her account only to take it out again?

  And what about this nonsense in Africa? If 'African leaders' - that's what Bridges had called them - really had lost their personal fortunes, why should it be Robin Hood? Then there was America. The Chairman of the US Federal Reserve had phoned the Governor of the Bank of England, because one their big Silicon Valley corporations had reported the loss of several hundred million dollars from various accounts round the world. Why would Robin Hood do that? And yet his new company, "Computer Solutions" obviously thought they had not only compromised the system, but that they had also found a way of making sure nobody else could.

  How the hell did they do it? It was supposed to be impossible, wasn't it? And what about all these 'blips' that Global Crossroads were detecting? In almost every case, they coincided with the illegal movement of funds somewhere.

  The more Vaughan tried to make sense of what was going on, the less sense it all made.

  Suddenly, Alistair Vaughan realised that there was only one answer to all this. He would have to meet the people at Computer Solutions.

  He decided to have lunch with his predecessor first: the man who knew Robin Hood's father.

  It wasn't a long lunch - the men were hardly close personal friends, but Bridges knew about the military, while Vaughan knew about crime, and it seemed to Vaughan that it was time they compared notes.

  They met in the Silver Cross, in Whitehall, and sat at the Oyster bar at the back of the pub. The oysters were always good, claimed to be fresh every day from Whitstable. Working as he did in Whitehall, Bridges went there quite often, and had only been ill once. The elderly cockney behind the bar, famous for wiping his nose on the back of his hand while cutting sandwiches, assured Bridges on his return that there was 'nuffink wrong with them Oysters, Guv. The brahn bred must've bin orf.' Dave wasn't there any more, and the new man obviously did better brown bread with the still-excellent oysters.

  "We need to swap notes," stated Vaughan. "There is something very odd going on within the international banking sector at the moment, which nobody can explain."

  "What sort of thing?" asked the man from the Cabinet Office.

  "Money is being shifted around by someone, somewhere, who seems able to circumvent our supposedly impregnable security system," said Vaughan. "You yourself alerted me to some rum goings-on in Africa, and there have been similar unexplained events in this country and in the States."

  Vaughan briefly went over the incidents he knew of, and the fact that a new organisation in the computer field seemed to think they knew how it was being done and how to stop it. It also seemed to have been responsible for making a large deposit of funds into his personal account, which he couldn't trace and therefore couldn't get rid of.

  "That suggests to me," said Paul Bridges, "that they might actually be responsible for everything that's going on."

  "My thoughts exactly," agreed the man from Threadneedle Street. "Which is why I thought we should compare notes."

  "You've lost me," said Bridges.

  "Let me explain, then," said Vaughan. "The people who claim to know how our security is being breached, and who claim to be able to prevent it happening again, are a company called 'Computer Solutions', based in Oxford. A chap called Jonathon Hood, known as Robin, who is now the Chief Executive Officer, founded the company. He's the son of a friend of yours, if I'm not mistaken."

  "Yes, he is," agreed Bridges. "But I can't see that he would ever deliberately break the law."

  "I don't know that he has," said Vaughan, "and that's the problem. Circumstantial evidence points to him, but there isn't a shred of real evidence to link any of this business to him. But I wondered if you had learnt anything more about what's going on in Africa, since we last spoke."

  "Well," said Bridges, "the situation in Africa is actually very interesting, since you asked. It seems that most of the hierarchy in Zimbabwe, who have been helping themselves to white-owned farms, aid money and other cash, including public funds, have suddenly lost all their wealth. Their personal accounts have by some means been emptied, and they are now in dire straits financially. There is documentary evidence that the President has been helping himself to public funds to make good his losses, and this evidence has now be published. His actions were condemned externally, and caused considerable anger internally, where there is now growing unrest and calls for the Government to re
sign or be overthrown. There are also now some well sourced rumours that, once again, the personal wealth of the head of state - the funds he only recently removed from the Reserve Bank - has been taken from his bank account. Some say the money has actually been returned to the Treasury. In all this, there has been no sign of who might have been responsible. At first, the banks were held to be at fault, and a computer failure blamed."

  "Rubbish," interjected Vaughan.

  "Rubbish indeed," agreed Bridges. "A computer failure would have affected everyone, and not just the people at the top. But the chairmen of the two main banks were arrested, then the Governor of the Reserve Bank was charged with 'crimes against the State', and finally the Finance Minister was sacked. But there has never been any rational explanation put forward for what has happened, and therefore the UK Government has been blamed for it all - circulating forged documents, issuing statements which were a pack of lies, that sort of thing, in an effort to destabilise the regime."

  "And how have we reacted to this, in official circles?" asked Vaughan.

  "All very low key," replied Bridges. "As a matter of fact, we have been criticised privately many times in the past by other governments in Africa, and elsewhere, for taking no action against the corrupt regime over there, so we don't really mind other nations now thinking that we might, at last, be doing something. In particular, we have been criticised as the old Colonial power for doing nothing to help the white farmers who were being hounded off their property. And that's another odd thing, you know."

  "What is?" asked Vaughan.

  "It seems that a good many of the dispossessed white farmers are suddenly receiving a form of compensation - a cash handout and an annuity payment. It's being paid through an organisation called 'Justice for Farmers', which says it doesn't really understand where the money has come from, except that it's being managed by a Swiss bank."

  "That's a new one," said Vaughan. "I hadn't heard about that."

  "But once again," said, Bridges, "the UK is being credited with having somehow organised it all. So as I said, in many ways we don't at all mind about being accused by the Zimbabweans of being responsible for all this, although of course we are not admitting to being involved in any way whatsoever."

  "Because we're not?"

  "Because we're not," confirmed Bridges.

  "So what do you think the attitude would be if we did eventually turn up some evidence that pointed to Robin Hood and his company being in some way responsible?" asked the Head of Security. "Because if we did, we would almost certainly have to start legal proceedings."

  "My guess is," replied Bridges, "that you would be discouraged from doing so, especially if, as seems entirely possible, all this causes the present regime to fall and be replaced."

  "Interesting," said Vaughan thoughtfully.

  "I know that the Prime Minister has been taking a keen personal interest in what's going on out there, and that he is being regularly briefed by the Foreign Secretary," said Paul Bridges.

  "And how does he know what's going on?" asked the man from the Bank of England.

  "Our Ambassador is under instructions to keep him closely briefed," replied Bridges.

  The Head of the Cabinet Office Briefing Room looked around to make sure they were not being overheard.

  "And the Ambassador is being briefed," he continued, "mainly by the Defence Attache, who has a network of contacts working in the country, and who is also, as it happens, a close personal friend of Robin Hood's father."

  Bridges paused. "As I am," he added.

  "Small world, isn't it," said a bewildered Paul Vaughan, who was fast beginning to feel out of his depth.

  "I think, if you did ever turn up any evidence that pointed to Robin Hood being criminally involved in some way," added the man from the Cabinet Office, "that it would be more than likely that you would be encouraged to ignore the fact, and that the mood would be rather to honour the man, than send him to prison."

  "You mean a CBE or something?"

  "That's exactly what I mean," said Bridges. "For services to banking, or something like that."

  Vaughan sat silent for a moment.

  "Another glass of Chardonnay?" offered Paul Bridges.

  Vaughan nodded, quietly contemplating the future.

  Four days later Stan Griffin rang Rupert Bland, and offered him a date for a presentation of his company's new development.

  By the time the day arrived, Alistair Vaughan's account had been restored to its original balance, some ?227. 86p. in the red.?

  17. A GOVERNMENT IN CRISIS?

  As soon as the President learnt that he had once again been 'robbed', he called an emergency Cabinet meeting.

  He plainly could not point the finger this time at his Finance Minister or the Reserve Bank Governor, as they were now both safely tucked away in one of Harare's notorious prisons. Indeed, nobody in the Cabinet was able to blame anyone with any conviction, although the consensus, if there was one, suggested that it had to be the Government in London. It was clearly all part of a clever plot, rather than a computer fault, and the skills to carry out these raids on personal bank accounts were unlikely to be found in Zimbabwe, where the once-excellent education system was now a mere shadow of its former self.

  So it had to be the actions of some overseas power, and the only country likely to be responsible was the UK, since, as the old Colonial power, that was the only country that had anything like a motive. There was always the chance that they were being aided and abetted by the main opposition party, who had everything to gain and nothing to loose from this hitherto rather childish exercise. By no means everyone in Cabinet regarded it as a childish exercise, however.

  The Government eventually decided to make a formal complaint to London, but stopped short of demanding the recall of its Ambassador. A statement to this effect was issued to The Herald and other arms of the State controlled media, although the communique failed to state precisely why this action had been taken. For the President to blame London for returning to the Reserve Bank cash which he had only recently removed from it - without Cabinet approval, it had to be said - was plainly not a starter. So instead, London was blamed for 'fermenting unrest', which, by this time, was gathering something of a momentum.

  The Cabinet then went into private session.

  The coterie of Ministers, who had so skilfully been feathering their own nests for so long, was now clearly rattled by the turn of events. They had all suffered grievous financial loss, and the more they thought about it, the less likely it seemed to them that they would be able to recoup their losses. Not in the immediate future, at least. Most of them still owned large but now virtually useless and worthless farms and estates that they had commandeered, and a few had also had the wit to invest in shares in foreign companies. But all of them feared a coup, or that demands for their resignation would become irresistible fairly soon. Such was the mood of the country that some form of civil uprising could not be ruled out, and the continued support of the police and the army could not be ruled in, either.

  The loss power was something they all feared. Some had already made outline plans about where they would go to seek refuge or asylum, but for most of them such a possibility had been just too remote ever to be contemplated. Until now, that is, when planning was likely to be driven by panic rather than by rational thinking, and with no cash available to buy favours, or even an airline ticket, many of them felt that they had run out of options.

  Most of them, however, had one asset that they could realise.

  Diamonds.

  It had been the idea of Leo Mutasa, the Minister of Mines and Natural Resources, many years ago, that they should collectively use their power and influence to stockpile diamonds from Sierra Leone. In a series of shady deals with that country's leadership, they had built up a collection that would be very handy on a rainy day. That day had clearly arrived.

  The Minister whose idea it had been, and who had a head start on everyone else, had left Zim
babwe some time ago, having no interest in grabbing any farms or other land, and was now living very comfortably indeed in Nigeria.

  The President now suggested to his colleagues that they should prepare for a move, just in case the current situation developed to a stage where push came to shove, and deposit their wealth safely abroad before it was too late. If they agreed, he would make all the arrangements for the safe transfer of their individual collections of stones to South Africa, where he had friends who could organise their safe and secure deposit. In the heat of the moment, and because none of them could begin to think of how to make similar arrangements on their own behalf, they all agreed. The individually sealed leather bags of diamonds would be collected centrally and stored, pending their eventual move, in the vaults of the Reserve Bank. Once in South Africa, colleagues would be able to make their own arrangements for the future of their wealth. The President undertook to invite other colleagues outside Government, in the military and the judiciary and so on, who now found themselves in a similar position, to join them in this scheme.

  They all agreed that the former Minister, Leo Mutasa, had been a far-sighted and prudent man, and that the President was showing his usual leadership skills in putting forward this plan to secure the future of each of his Cabinet friends and colleagues.

  Most of the stones had been pillaged from the diamond mines in the north east of Sierra Leone, where the alluvial mining was conducted by scores of people scraping away at the surface before washing the gravel to find diamonds. Some of the best diamonds in the world come from Sierra Leone. Kenema, Bo and Freetown are all full of diamond merchants who are almost exclusively Lebanese. The Minister had been put in touch with a trusted dealer in Howe Street, Freetown, called Mohamed Hassan, who ran Allie's Jewellery Ltd. Driving through Freetown was an experience in itself, but fortunately for the Minister, the Sierra Leone Government provided their friend from Harare with a driver. Allie's Jewellery Ltd was obvious because of the civilian security man and very smart 4x4 parked outside. The shop window was full of the most unpleasant china ornaments, while inside were rows of gold chains, very gaudy bangles and, on Leo Mutasa's first visit, a number of Ukrainian United Nations soldiers, no doubt buying gifts for their local girlfriends. The chap behind the counter immediately ushered him through a 'staff only' door, where he was greeted by a large, unshaven Lebanese, sitting behind a desk.

  Mohamed spoke English with what turned out to be a Manchurian accent, which the man from Zimbabwe thought was rather strange, until it had been explained that he had completed his jewellery-making City and Guilds in Manchester and couldn't shake off the accent. He gave the Minister a long briefing about how to spot a good diamond, which are judged by the four Cs - colour, clarity, cut and carat.

  Although relatively unusual in Sierra Leone, some pinks and yellows are sometimes found, but are not such a good investment as white diamonds. The cuts vary, said the man, and rely on the cutter being able to produce the largest cut diamond while removing as much of the flawed raw stone as possible. The Minister insisted that only the best white diamonds were good enough for his Government colleagues. Most of Mohamed's stones had been cut in Belgium, although more and more these days were being cut in India, where labour was cheaper. This was of little interest to the Zimbabwean Minister of Mines and Natural Resources, and since the government of Sierra Leone was paying the merchant, as part of the contract for Zimbabwean tobacco and copper at below market prices, he knew that wherever they came from they would be the best, or the deal was off. Naturally, he was able to keep the best of the best, although none of his colleagues, who all suspected it, could actually prove it. By the time of Mutasa's sudden disappearance to Nigeria, it was too late to do anything about it anyway.