Elephant Dropping (9781301895199)

by Trzebinski, Bruce

‘Yes, but these buggers don't pay their interest. You say it’s mere paperwork but there are risks involved!’ Evans exclaimed tiring of this topic. ‘Listen to me, the bank just loses money,’ he snorted.

  Patel changed the subject. ‘Let’s order food, I’m hungry.’

  ‘Yes, yes, good idea,’ said Evans. ‘I will have a half chicken and chips, how about you Azizza?

  ‘I will have the same,’ she replied.

  Good, he liked a woman with an appetite. Assuming Patel had got to his point and been deferred, Evans concentrated on chatting up Azizza. She responded by flirting with him, laughing easily at his jokes.

  Patel stayed out of this easy banter punching figures into his calculator, biding his time. So far, things had gone well. This scheme was a honey, he just needed to get Evans involved. He waited until Evans was happily tucking into his food.

  ‘Ok, Evans, listen to me,’ he spoke quickly. ‘For a small additional fee I can get the Land officer to release those title deeds to me. Azizza as part of her job has the owner’s details, so she can fill out the individual loan applications for you. It is all very simple, you employ her officially in your office, and all you have to do is approve the loans. We will make sure we service the monthly interest rates on behalf of the owners. All the paperwork will remain intact in a closed circuit, with no risk of a payment default. If you do the math, two thousand title deeds at 750,000 shillings will come to 15 billion.

  Let’s allow14 million to service the interest rates over six months, or maybe eight months, 15 million should do it. Then on the safe side 20 million to the land office and other incidental expenses.’ Patel paused taking a sip of beer and held up his hand to forestall any interruption by Evans. The look on the manager’s face was incredulous his mouth open, full of chicken.

  ‘This still leaves 14.6 billion shillings to be divided between the three of us, or in real money about 17 million US dollars. At the end of sixteen months, the two-year law will have passed and the land office will revoke the title deeds. Your bank will get into a long and convoluted court case with the government over ownership, you sensibly, will have retired or resigned by then and can live anywhere in the world,’ Patel having delivered his punch line stood up, took a bow and clapped his hands, grinning at Azizza, ‘and we will all be rich, rich, rich!’

  Azizza laughed in delight. She leapt out of her chair and pretended to dance the bump with Patel. Hands held over her head waving a chicken wing. ‘Rich, rich, rich!’ she echoed. ‘Brilliant!’

  Evans struggled to swallow and almost choked as he spoke. ‘You’re mad… you are, you’re insane! The idea is preposterous!’

  He stared unseeing at Azizza’s panty line, his whole world turning upside down, as he absorbed the enormity of Patel’s plan.

  They laughed together at the stunned look on his face. ‘Look at him,’ Patel nudged Azizza.

  Evans managed a half smile, infected by the moment and trying to see the joke in all of this. ‘Oh very funny,’ he said, ‘you got me there my friend,’ relieved, putting his drumstick on the plate.

  Patel looked at Azizza. ‘He thinks we’re joking!’

  ‘No,’ Evans shook his head, ’you can't be serious!’

  Azizza leant on Patel’s shoulder. ‘Oh, dear, your friend hasn't got the balls,’ she looked hard at Evans.

  Patel rubbed his chin. ‘Pity my dear, you may be right.’

  ‘Come on,’ Azizza tugged on his arm, ‘let’s dance, I feel hot to trot tonight!’

  ‘Yes, let’s dance my dear, Evans isn't the only one with a bank in town,’ he laughed as they walked off.

  They left the Evans to his thoughts nervously gripping his plastic bamboo chair. Fear stole over him, he felt abandoned after the intimacy of their discussions .He considered getting up to leave. The rest of his meal congealing in its enamel dish, he reached for a drumstick and mouthed it without enthusiasm, all his appetite gone. They cannot be serious, it is crazy! How can they think it’s possible?

  He sat immobilised, as he ran the scenario through his head. Ridiculous, never work.

  Patel and Azizza came back from the dance floor, laughing and smiling at one another; she gave Evans a look akin to pity as she sat down. Patel followed her look and turned to Evans. ‘So are you in? Evans just stared wordlessly at him.

  Patel went in for the kill. ‘I have thought of everything. Ask me any questions now or get up and leave and we will never discuss this matter again. It’s time to make a decision.’

  Evans was confused; the whole evening had taken a wrong turn. His light hearted indulgence in a friend’s suggestion that he could get a mistress had turned into the pressure of a commitment to a crime he still had difficulty grasping, and unless he agreed to get involved, he would lose the friendship, and the girl!

  He tried to buy time. ‘I will have to think about it.’

  ‘Forget him,’ Azizza said, now glaring openly at him.

  Patel sighed, making a decision. ‘Now, Evans what we have discussed this evening must not go beyond this table.’

  The banker’s head was reeling, he felt stung. This woman he hardly knew had turned hostile and his best friend was behaving like a stranger. ‘Wait a minute!’ he shouted. Heads at adjoining tables turned to stare, he lowered his voice. ‘I haven't made a decision. I don’t know who this woman is,’ pointing a finger rudely at Azizza. He puffed up in managerial role. ‘I have legitimate questions if I'm going to put my career on the line.’

  ‘Your career?’ snorted Patel. ‘Don't make me laugh. As for Azizza, she is my trusted business associate and could be yours also, if you weren’t such a weak fool!’

  Evans shifted in his seat, now angry. ‘I’m not weak, that’s it.’

  Patel put out his arm holding Evans in his chair. ‘Hang on my friend,’ he crooned, ‘take it easy, we had to test you.’

  Evans now saw that Azizza was smiling at him. ‘Oh,’ he said mollified, but not convinced, ‘so this is a joke right, a hoax?’

  ‘No, Evans, we are serious, we are going ahead with or without you. Now is your chance.’

  The manager now felt trapped having missed his exit. ‘Ok, ok, I'm in,’ he said unconvincingly.

  Patel and Azizza exchanged looks, a silent agreement. ‘Alright, Evans, this is how it is going to work.’

  They talked long into the night, only pausing to order more drinks. Evans, was adamant about one thing, he would not have Azizza in the bank with him.

  *

  Evans’s mobile rang, startling him back to the painful present. It was his office. ‘Yes, what is it?’

  ‘Sir, sorry to disturb you,’ said Florence, ‘we have a customer in the bank and you have not approved this week’s exchange rates.’

  ‘Ok, just give him Friday’s rates. I will be in soon to sign the papers, in the meantime Florence, don't call me again. I'm indisposed till I tell you otherwise, ok.’

  ‘Yes, sir is everything alright?’

  ‘I'm fine Florence, thank you,’ and rang off.

  Patel walked in the door of the unlit nightclub and peered into the gloom looking for Evans.

  The banker waved him over. ‘Here!’ He called out, ‘over here.’

  Patel slipped into the booth, eyeing the coke on the table - he could smell the booze on the manager’s breath.

  ‘Drinking already Evans, what an earth has happened?’

  ‘It's terrible. I needed a drink to settle my nerves.’

  ‘Ok, tell me about the auditor?’

  ‘Yes,’ Evans gulped his drink and said in a rush, ‘I received a letter this morning from my head office in Nairobi.’ He fished out the folded message. ‘They are sending an auditor down on Monday, and I don’t know what to do.’

  Patel quickly read through it and looked hard at Evans. ‘He is coming to examine the bank’s books?’

  ‘Yes, an auditor for god's sake,’ Evans wailed, miserable.

  ‘Evans, if you have followed procedures, what is the problem?’


  ‘He will expose the scheme and we will get caught!’

  ‘Calm down, all the books balance right?’

  ‘Yes, but what about these false loans, he will find them.’

  ‘Hang on man, you are not thinking. These loans are not false, they are backed by genuine title deeds and we have been very thorough with the paper work; the interest on all the loans has beenpaid regularly. You have not been doing anything different?’

  ‘No, of course not, Azizza does it every day.’

  ‘And you haven't started any other scheme on your own?’ He asked trying to source the manager’s obvious angst.

  ‘No.’

  ‘You’re sure?’

  ‘Absolutely.’

  Patel started to chuckle. ‘My friend, my friend.’

  ‘I don't see anything to laugh about, Patel you bloody muhindi!’

  He ignored the insult. ‘Evans, if your books are all in order, then the bank should be very happy. Short of this auditor fellow driving all the way out to the Sabaki River or demanding to meet the bank’s customers, he won't find anything, will he?’

  Evans shook his head, frowning.

  ‘Do you know him?’ asked Patel.

  ‘No, he is new.’

  ‘A new mzungu, even better, I will make some enquiries.’

  Evans was perplexed at Patel’s lack of concern, a ray of hope on his bleak horizon. ‘But listen Patel,’ he asked still suspicious, ‘why would the bank want an audit now?’

  ‘There has been no default in payment and the bank is experiencing an unprecedented rise in its income. So if anything, we have almost been too clever. Don't worry, just carry on as normal - looking at his watch. I'm busy today, let’s meet at the golf club this evening, ok? You need to get back to your office Evans and stay away from the booze! Pull yourself together and everything will be fine, in fact I think we could turn this event to our advantage,’ he smiled.

  ‘So you don’t think there will be a problem?’ Evans asked.

  ‘No, my friend, you worry too much,’ Patel said as he walked from the bar. ‘See you at six thirty.’

  Patel reached the car park, waved at his driver and called Azizza on his mobile. ‘Hello my dear, we have to meet at our usual spot, there have been some developments on Golden Palm. No, everything is under control,’ he reassured her. ‘See you at lunch,’ and rang off.

  Patel climbed into his 4x4 instructing the driver to stop at Gandi's mobile phone shop on the way back to the office. He checked the new mobile phones in the shop counter and bought a sim card. Back in the car he switched his sim with the new one and waited while the phone selected a network. Once the phone was active, he told his driver to pull over to the side of the road.

  Patel walked a few yards, out of earshot. ‘Hello, Immigration Dept, could you put me through to extension 233? Yes, 233 thank you.’ He strolled to a shady patch under a tree while waiting to be connected.

  ‘Hello Kamau, Patel here, how are you my friend? How is the family?’ They exchange pleasantries for a while. ‘Now Kamau, I need a favour from you, listen to me carefully. Can you look up the file on a Mr. Brian Nicholls working for NNB bank. Yes, Nicholls, it must be a recent application, ok. Then e-mail a copy of his C.V. today, it’s urgent - now tell me, my friend, which mobile are you using now - ahh, you need the new Nokin - it takes pictures and everything - I will arrange to send you one, thank you so much. When I come to Nairobi we will go out on the town. Send the C.V. today ok, ok thanks, bye.’ Patel got back into the car. ‘To the office,’ he informed his driver.

  *

  Evans still in the bar, now somewhat mollified, chuckled to himself, that Patel is one smart muhindi. He drained his vodka. ‘Barman where’s my change? I'm a busy man!’ He boomed, all confidence restored. Rose and the boys were not due back from Nairobi until this evening, he could watch TV, snooze, and go back to the bank this afternoon. A little time out was just what the doctor had ordered he reasoned with a smile.

  *

  Patel and Azizza met at a small curry house in town, located just off the main Malindi highway in a discreet side street. It's main advantage was that the back entrance could be approached and exited from several side roads - and the curry was not bad. Azizza was on time; they ordered lunch and soon got down to business. Patel explained what had transpired this morning.

  ‘So you don't see any difficulties with this auditor?’ She asked.

  He reached into his briefcase, and handed over the e-mail. ‘Never worked in Africa before.’ He smiled.

  She quickly scanned it and raised her eyebrows in question.

  Patel munched on a chapati. ‘You see, my dear, I will make sure Mr. Nicholls does not enjoy his visit to Malindi. In fact he will be in a hurry to leave.’

  Azizza frowned. ‘Ok spare me the details unless it involves me,’ Patel’s tentacles ran deep and she knew better than to ask. Whilst she admired his abilities, he scared her. He was not a man to cross swords with.

  Patel went on. ‘This week, I want you to go through the paperwork and make sure we have covered all our tracks. Check all the interest payments and keep the land officer sweet. Give him a generous over payment - like you have made a mistake - we can recover it later.’

  He scratched his head. ‘Evans is our weakest link, panics too easily. In a tight corner he would sell us out,’ he stabbed a poppadom irritably with his index finger, it cracked loudly. ‘We can't cover every angle, but keep cash and your passport on you at all times.’

  She frowned. ‘You’re saying we might have to run for it?’

  ‘No my dear, I am just being cautious.’

  ‘I see, so where would we cautiously go?’

  Patel looked at her, a wry smile on his face. ‘I haven’t thought about it but our best bet is to find a way get to Tanga in Tanzania.’

  ‘Why Tanga?’

  ‘I don’t know, I’m thinking on my feet it’s a sleepy little town, last place anyone would look.’ He shrugged.

  ‘Ok so this sleepy little town, we walk around until we bump into one another?’

  Patel giggled, teasing slices of cucumber round his plate with a fork as he spoke. ‘Find a hotel and check the message board at the Tanga Yacht Club every day, where you will find an advertisement for a boat for sale, the boat’s name will be,’ Patel searched for a word, ‘choose one,’ he said playfully, trying to lighten her mood.

  ‘Cucumber,’ she volunteered facetiously.

  ‘Ok, and the phone number will be my contact.

  She nodded, unconvinced. Azizza understood the double meaning and shivered involuntarily - an escape plan that would ensure that Patel knew exactly where to find her.

  ‘You think this auditor could be a real threat?’ She asked.

  ‘No, I doubt it, there is nothing for him to find,’ he reassured her, ‘however, once this crisis is over we might have to cut our losses, or speed up the process. Evans will not be able to carry this project through to fruition,’ he decided in resignation, ‘so put that agile mind of yours to work. This far down the line, we must get away with enough money.’

  Azizza slapped irritably at a fly.

  ‘Just be normal with Evans,’ Patel went on, ‘his fear is making him oversensitive. Another six months to go and we should be home and dry.’

  They finished the meal in silence, caught up in their respective thoughts. She studied Patel. A slim six foot two, in his early 40’s with a head of salt and pepper hair. Nothing about his outward appearance indicated the mercurial and ruthless mind this man possessed. His face - apart from a large hooked nose - was plain, quite forgettable in fact. He had a warm and easy smile, a pleasant looking inoffensive man - and yet when pushing a point those brown eyes glinted like steel - his mouth set. The only thing that belied his inscrutable calm, was an odd girl-like giggle, like a response to a silly joke; it’s immaturity in this tall man a little repulsive. When Patel giggled, Azizza had learned, watch out!

  She had tried to bed him a few times, and h
e had declined her invitation with as much interest as an unsustainable project with no profit in it for him. It was not that she found him in the least bit attractive, but more a need to gain an emotional insurance.

  As though reading her mind after the second attempt, he had said to her. ‘My dear, it's not you. You are a most attractive woman. I have seen the way other men look at you. It's me,’ throwing his hands in the air, ‘sex just doesn't interest me.’ Accepting this they had maintained their business relationship, the trust growing between them, dictated by the rising stakes. She had not entirely given up the idea of getting him into bed and if anything his lack of response only intrigued her more.

  ‘I'm meeting Evans this evening,’ Patel announced, remembering his phone call to Kamau. ‘On your way back to the office can you stop by Gandi's and buy me the new Nokin phone. It’s about twenty four thousand shillings, do you have enough cash?’ Azizza nodded. ‘Good put that down on the expenses account and leave the phone in the office for me.’

  ‘Ok, see you later,’ she said to his departing back.

  At four, Patel left his factory, car keys in hand. ‘It’s alright David,’ he told the driver hurrying to the 4x4, ‘you can have the rest of the day off. I will drive myself, see you in the morning.’

  Patel had a fleet of cars; he opted to take a small white Toyota used on the school run by his wife. He turned out of the gate and headed for the suburbs of Malindi where he had bought a house from an old English settler now in a rest home upcountry. The single story colonial bungalow was about to fall down and was worthless, but for now it worked well as an office for Golden Palm. As a concession to the settler, he had kept on his houseman, who lived on the property, employed as gatekeeper.

  Patel sounded the horn and waited for the old man to open the gate. As he drove up the overgrown drive to the rear of the building, he was pleased to see the back door shut. Azizza not there, good, he needed time alone. Entering the house through the kitchen he put the kettle on and opened the door to the office, the room was sparsely furnished apart from a long table with computer equipment, an office chair and filing cabinets.

  Along one wall was a large map of the Sabaki river plot allocations, areas marked in red under Golden Palm’s control. He whipped the dustsheet off the computer, turned it on and went back into the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea.