Elephant Dropping (9781301895199)

by Trzebinski, Bruce

  ‘Not yet,’ he answered.

  ‘It’s that fat manager friend of yous, with the Indian and the Arab woman,’ Lucy announced, ‘they are the thives.’

  Brian stared at her. ‘How, but how do you know that?’

  ‘I have seen thems,’ Lucy pointed to a table in the corner. ‘The Arab womans think she sexy when she dance, but her bottom too big,’ she giggled. ‘She shake it for Indian but he don’t care!’

  Brian looked at Lucy puzzled. How in the hell did she know Patel and Evans were conspirators?‘But how do you know?’

  ‘Lucy clever girl eh?’ She winked at him.

  Brian getting angry said. ‘Lucy tell me how you know?’

  She leaned back in her chair and waved one arm in the air. ‘Look you white mans,you sees Indian buying drinks for African mans, they are thives and if have Arab womans they are gangsters too!’ she told him condescendingly, returning his frown.

  ‘How many times have you seen them together?’

  She shrugged, holding up two, three fingers as she swigged her beer. She put the beer down. ‘The fat one, he comes here alone sometimes to eats, he wanted to fucks me, but I no like him, not like you,’ she reached out and stroked Brians thigh. ‘You nice mans you crazy for Lucy eh?’

  ‘Is that how you got my number? From Evans?’ Brian asked looking around him in alarm. Christ! Have I been set up again?

  ‘Yes he give me number, but Birin, I no fucks him.’

  ‘These people tried to kill me, I can’t stay here.’

  She looked at him reflectively. ‘Ok we go your hotel?’

  Brian looked sad. ‘No.’

  Lucy extended one long finger and scratched her ear, looking idly at her fingernail. ‘The polices, they looks you?’

  Brian shut his eyes. ‘Jesus,’ he muttered.

  ‘It’s ok Birin, I heleb you, we catch thives and take money ok?’

  Brian smiled, despite himself, at the idea.

  ‘You laff at me?’ she challenged.

  ‘No, no, it’s just this whole thing is so crazy, I don’t understand how I got in such a mess.’

  ‘You stays with Lucy, ok. It too dangers for you in Malindi on your selfs,’ she announced.

  ‘I need to get out of here,’ Brian said standing up.

  ‘Where you go?’

  ‘I don’t care, anywhere,’ he told her. ‘I’m leaving,’ and marched off towards the exit.

  Lucy swore ‘stupid’s!’ And banged the cap back on the beer bottle with her fist, stashing it in her bag. She caught up with him in the car park as he climbed into a waiting tuk-tuk and put her hand on the door and made to climb in. Brian held it shut. ‘No,’ he said.

  Lucy put her hands on her hips. ‘Where you go? I find you like that,’ she snapped her fingers. Brian let go of the door, she climbed in beside him. ‘You silly mans you love too much.’

  Brian and Lucy stood awkwardly outside the entrance to his hotel, he didn’t know what to say.

  ‘You stays here?’ she barely hid her scorn. ‘This place for thives and malayas.’

  Brian shrugged. ‘I’m staying here,’ seizing on her displeasure as a way to disengage himself.

  ‘No,’ she announced, ‘we go my places.’

  ‘Your place?’

  She nodded. ‘I have swim water,’ she made a breaststroke motion with her hands, ‘you teach me yes?’

  Brian frowned. ‘Oh, you mean a swimming pool.’

  ‘Yes that what I say, swim pool. You get your things we go,’ she dialled a number.

  ‘Lucy, you have been very kind.’ She shook her head and turned away from him as she spoke into the mobile. Brian waited for her to finish and then repeated himself, edging away from her. ‘But I must go now. Thank you, I will call you in the morning ok?’

  ‘It not safes here, my place safes, you come with Lucy,’ she spoke as though he was a disobedient child.

  ‘No I don’t think so,’ said Brian and muttering goodnight, he headed for the hotel entrance.

  ‘Birin, you fools, the polices find you here tonight.’

  He stopped and swore under his breath, turning to her he challenged. ‘And you will tell them I suppose?’

  Her eyes opened wide. ‘You think I’m friends with those blally fukin bastareds. I’m trying to heleb you, stupids mzungu,’ she stomped her foot. ‘The first time you were in polices station I heard the polices talks man in Nairobi. They find you here you deadi mans!’And eyes bulging she slid her index finger across her throat. ‘You, you, idiot mans!’

  Brian stared, the commotion was attracting onlookers. ‘Ok, I will get my stuff,’ he relented and walked into the hotel. When he returned, Lucy was already in a waiting tuk-tuk. She smiled as he climbed in and gave his hand a squeeze.

  ‘Where are we going?’ He asked as the taxi set off.

  ‘No worry,’ she said and fishing about in her bag, retrieved the bottle of beer, deftly knocking the crown cork off on the doorsill. ‘You want?’ she offered. He shook his head.

  The tuk-tuk drove through Malindi and then onto the outskirts of a residential area with trees and high walls surrounding white painted villas. It stopped outside a pair of imposing metal gates set in a walled compound. Brian was intrigued.

  Lucy laughed at his expression. ‘Thisis my friends house, he in Italy. You pays taxi, I find askari,’ she quickly got out and disappeared in the dark. He paid off the taxi driver and stood waiting. He could hear the sound of surf breaking on a beach, wondering if this was his chance to escape. Lucy appeared with a uniformed guard in tow. Brian steeled himself convinced he had been set up.

  ‘This Alphonse my friend,’ Lucy said waving at the guard.

  ‘Bonjourno sir,’ said the guard in a pleasant voice. ‘Welcome to Sunset Villas amigo,’ he opened the gate and beckoned them in, handing a key to Lucy as she walked through.

  She took the key and asked Brian for five hundred shillings.

  ‘What for?’ he asked puzzled.

  ‘For Alphonse, he no let anyone in.’

  ‘I see.’ Brian handed the money over to Alphonse.

  ‘Grazias Senore,’ he said and shut the gate behind them.

  Lucy did a little excited dance pointing with her hand. ‘See swimwater.’ An elaborate free form swimming pool dominated the walled compound, surrounded by what looked to be double story holiday villas. Apart from the security lights all the houses were in darkness.

  ‘You say this place belongs to a friend of yours?’

  ‘Yes,’ gushed Lucy, ‘but he no here so we stay, no problem,’ moving towards one of the villas. She reached the door of the first villa fumbled with the key in the lock until Brian intervened.

  ‘Let me have a look,’ he offered.

  She kicked at the door and then gave Brian the key. It was attached to an oval wooden plaque with a number seven clearly carved into it, the number on the door was a two.

  ‘Wrong key or wrong door,’ he announced.

  ‘What you mean?’ and peered at him.

  He pointed out the number seven on the keys and then the two on the door. ‘See.’

  She tut-tutted in annoyance, took the key from him and strode off along the outside corridor, high heels clacking loudly. Stopping at another door she again tried the lock and squealed in delight as it opened. ‘Here Birin, come.’

  Picking up his backpack he warily followed her. ‘What the hell am I doing here,’ he muttered to himself. Lucy was already inside the apartment hunting for a light switch, her progress impeded by unseen furniture. ‘Shiti,’ she swore banging about in the dark.

  Brian reached out for the light switch and flooded the room. ‘I thought this house belonged to a friend of yours?’

  She ignored him. ‘Oww, it pains,’ she grimaced and sat down in a chair rubbing her shin.

  Brian looked around. The apartment was neat and well designed. The main living room had a kitchenette off to one side, a sofa, two easy chairs pointing towards a music centre and TV. Brian parted f
ull-length curtains, revealing a view of the pool through glass doors and an outside balcony. He continuing exploring, flicking on lights he went upstairs.

  There were three bedrooms, one master and two single bedrooms one of which was used as a study. There was a computer on a desk covered by a dustsheet and shelves of books, all in Italian. There was a small bathroom and toilet on the landing. Back downstairs he went into the kitchen.

  Lucy watched him. ‘You like?’

  He didn’t answer, but opened a back door, which led to a small walled garden with washing lines and an outside sink. He walked back and sat down opposite her. ‘Lucy, who’s apartment is this?’

  ‘My friends of mine,’ not liking the tone of his voice.

  ‘What sort of friend, what’s his name?’

  ‘He Italiano friends. Antonio,’ she said defiantly.

  ‘And this Antonio, he lets you stay when he is away?’

  ‘Shuwa.’

  ‘I don’t believe you,’ he said.

  ‘Ahhgh,’ she snorted, standing up, slipping of her shoes and walking into the kitchen, banging the cupboards noisily looking for something. ‘You bad mans,’ she said as though making up her mind. ‘I heleb you and you just complain, like, yes - like,’ she imitated a clucking chicken, laughing at herself, long slender arms waving in the air. ‘Ahaa,’ she stopped suddenly, lifting something out of the back of a cupboard - a bottle of red wine. ‘Good,’ she frowned at the cork and marched back into the main room. ‘You opens.’

  ‘It’s not yours,’ he said pointedly, taking the bottle from her and holding onto it.

  ‘You opens.’ She repeated.

  ‘No.’ He shook his head.

  She took another tack. ‘I know where that fat mans live.’

  ‘What fat man?’ Brian frowned.

  ‘The manager bank.’

  ‘Oh, you mean Evans?’

  ‘Yes the fat one, your friends,’ she added sarcastically.

  ‘Really where?’ He said, falling into the trap.

  Walking across the room she tried to open the sliding aluminium doors, pushing at the glass ineffectually.

  ‘You want to go out?’

  ‘Yes,’ she pouted, ‘you teach to swims, but first opens wine.’

  Brian got up and slid the glass doors back effortlessly; it was getting hot in the room anyway. Lucy took the opportunity of their nearness to grab his belt and pulled him towards her, laughing playfully. Brian smiled despite himself and gently unhooking her hand he went to look for a corkscrew.

  When he returned with the bottle and two wine glasses, Lucy’s’ yellow dress was lying on the floor discarded. Intrigued he stepped through the door into the garden looking for her. She waved to him from the pool already standing waist deep in the water. He smiled and walked over. As he got to the pool edge Lucy submerged hiding her breasts from him.

  ‘You come to swim,’ she smiled coyly.

  ‘No, not now,’ pulling up a plastic lounge chair and sitting by the edge of the pool. He poured a glass of wine. ‘You want some,’ he invited, trying to tempt her out of the water.

  ‘Later, you teaches me to swim first,’ she told him, and started a frantic doggy paddle her legs kicking wildly. Her head went under almost immediately; she rose back to the surface spluttering and gasping for air, eyes wide.

  He laughed at her antics. ‘Be careful of the deep end.’

  She wiped her face with both hands. ‘Why you laffs at Lucy.’

  ‘You look funny,’ he said, enjoying himself.

  ‘Ahhh Birin, why you not teaches me to swim, pleses you come, teaches me,’ as she moved away from him, ‘you nasty mans.’

  ‘No. Now tell me about Evans,’ he asked.

  Lucy turned to reply and her feet slipped on the pool bottom and she went under, legs and arms thrashing wildly pushing her further away from the pool edge.

  He waited for her to regain her feet, but now it seemed she was out of her depth. ‘Shit,’ he exclaimed and putting the wine glass down quickly took off his shirt and dived in. He reached her and grabbed one flailing arm and hauled her back to the surface, his feet in surprise finding the bottom, he was only chest deep in water. Lucy surfaced and saw the astonished look on his face and broke into a high peel of laughter.

  ‘You funny man,’ she said as she wrapped her arms and legs around him, pushing her breasts teasingly against his chest, he let go of her arm and was about to respond when she pushed him away. With an elegant sidestroke and still laughing, she regained the side of the pool, climbed out and dripping wet ran across the lawn to the house dressed in the skimpiest of panties.

  ‘Now what,’ he said in exasperation as he got out of the pool and sat back in his chair. He took a swig of wine and undid his sodden boots. ‘Women,’ he muttered to himself, his mind now focused on that fleeting moment when she was in his arms, yearning for more. Presently gathering up his shoes and the wine bottle he followed her across the lawn, wondering what her next trick was going to be. He found her sitting on the floor in front of the music system fiddling with it, her hair wrapped in a towel, another one around her body.

  ‘This thing, it no work,’ she stabbed at the controls.

  ‘Where did you get the towels?’ He asked as he walked past her.

  ‘In the bathroom up,’ she pointed.

  ‘You might want to switch that on first,’ he said mildly pointing at the wall socket.

  ‘Ahhh, yes good, where my wine?’ She demanded.

  He handed her the bottle, and went upstairs. He found a towel in the bathroom as well as Lucy’s very small panties on the tiles. Drying himself off he wrung out his jeans and hung them over the shower rail, his eye returning again to her panties. Grinning as he held them up and wrung them dry as well. You’re heading for trouble Nicholls, he told his reflection in the mirror.

  Downstairs, Lucy had got the TV going and was watching entranced. ‘Look, Birin,’ she called excitedly, naked figures on the screen, a white woman with two men, one of them was black.

  It stopped Brian in his tracks. ‘Where the hell did you get that?’

  ‘Look the black man he has a big one,’ she laughed at Brian’s expression, kicking her legs on the floor in glee, her towel riding up her thighs teasingly.

  He grabbed the remote off her switching off the TV.

  ‘Ahhh, why yous did that,’ she protested.

  ‘Listen Lucy,’ he raised his voice, ‘I’m in a very serious situation and I need to talk to you. Stop fooling about.’

  Lucy pouted a little. ‘Birin why you such old mans? You no funs,’ she added undoing the towel and drying her hair with it.

  Brian grabbed her arm and yanked her off the floor. ‘Listen to me,’ he shoved her roughly towards the sofa. She twisted in his grip and resisted him. He deftly hooked her ankle with his foot and tripped her backwards into the sofa, the movement so quick it shocked her into silence; a flash of fear crossed her face as she scrabbled to cover herself with the towel. ‘Lucy, I’m not going to hurt you,’ he reassured her, and pulled up a chair. ‘Listen, some people are trying to kill me, do you understand that?’

  She nodded, large eyes silently staring at him.

  ‘Good,’ he said, ‘now let’s talk about Evans.’

  Lucy rubbed her wrist. ‘You hurt me,’ not meeting his eye, ‘get me wine,’ recovering her poise a little.

  Brian chuckled, and handed her a glass. ‘You are something else.’

  She took the wine and sipped it watching him over the rim of the glass, defiance in her eyes.

  ‘So now back to Evans. You know where he lives?’

  Lucy nodded and reaching into her bag, took out a comb and started to untangle her hair, a remote look on her face.

  Brian waited, watching her. ‘Are you going to tell me?’

  She shrugged, seemingly engrossed in her grooming. He leaned back in his chair. ‘Shit,’ he muttered under his breath, taking a sip of wine and staring at the ceiling. They sat in an uncomfortable silence
with only the rasping of Lucy’s comb between them. He tried again. ‘Lucy, you said you would help me.’ He reminded her.

  She waved her comb round the apartment wordlessly.

  Brian stood up suddenly exasperated. ‘Fuck it,’ he said. The movement startled her and she took up a defensive position, hands raised as though to ward off a blow. He went to the kitchen to look for more wine. He found another bottle, and offered to refill her glass. ‘I‘m not going to hurt you, trust me.’

  ‘Birin. Theses peoples, the Indian, the fat man and the Arab womans. They stealses money from bank?’

  ‘Yes a lot of money.’

  ‘But it no your moneys so why, why, you care?’

  ‘Because it’s my job, that’s why - the bank hired me.’

  ‘Theys want to kills you - thisis not good job for you.’

  He smiled ironically. ‘You’re right.’

  ‘If I heleb,’ she held her head on one side, ‘will you get money?’

  ‘If you want money, I can give you some,’ he offered.

  ‘Everyone wanti money,’ she said, resuming her combing.

  He agreed. ‘Yes that’s true, but not everyone is a thief.’

  ‘They thives, want to steal your life also. What do you want?’

  ‘I want to stop them stealing, to put them in jail.’

  She shook her head. ‘They kill you first.’

  ‘No, if I catch them, I take them to the police.’

  ‘The polices, they are the worst thives!’She snorted.

  ‘Ok, so what would you do?’ He challenged.

  She became animated. ‘I would takes the money.’

  ‘Then you would just be like them, a thief,’ he stated.

  ‘No I would be a rich thievs,’ she giggled at the idea.

  He frowned. ‘It’s not that simple Lucy, these people are ruthless, the good thing is, they think I’m dead.’

  She stopped combing and looked at him. ‘Deadi?’

  ‘Yes,’ he related what had happened on the drive down from Nairobi. She listened gasping and shaking her head in disbelief.

  ‘Where you friends now?’ She asked as he finished his story.

  ‘At the farm with his uncle,’ Brian answered.

  ‘And he kills a policeman? Ohhhh, that very bad, now all polices will look for him,’ her eyes round with fright. She stared, a look of awe on her face. ‘Thisis bad for you Birin.’