Doug reached for the newspaper Firdus was holding. His uncle handed Katana’s report to him instead. ‘This should fill in a few gaps for you.’ He left Doug reading intently.
He ordered sandwiches from Margret while he went to pack for Nairobi and then joined Doug on the veranda.
‘What do you think of the report?’ He asked as he hunted through a well-thumbed notebook for phone numbers.
‘Jesus. What the hell am I going to do?’
‘Don’t worry, I told Katana your side of the story. I’m getting on a flight to Nairobi to go and see the minister. We are going to get that bastard Rubia stopped in his tracks. Now listen carefully, this is what I want you to do in the time I’m away.’
Firdus outlined his plan as they munched on sandwiches. Doug was impressed he had thought of every angle, like a master chess player. ‘Amazing - and you think the minister will listen to you?’
Firdus smiled, and then chuckled. ‘You know why they say you can’t teach an old dog new tricks?’
‘Yes, but I’ve never understood what it means?’
‘Because dear nephew, to an old dog, there are no new tricks.’
After lunch, Doug drove Firdus into Malindi airport. They sat together for a moment in the car park. ‘I don’t know if Brian will have any more news, but the two of you can hide out on the farm until I get back. If you decide not to stay, leave the car here with the keys under the mat. It’s vitally important that Brian communicates with his sister as we have discussed, the timing is crucial.’
As Firdus stepped out of the car he put his hand on Doug’s shoulder. ‘Be careful, I will get you out of this jam.’
Doug watched as his uncle walked to the airport terminal, and then rang Brian. ‘I have just dropped my uncle at the airport in Malindi and I need to see you urgently. Where can I find you? I’ve got wheels.’
‘Ok, listen’ Brian replied, ‘I am not sure how to give you directions. I’m at apartment seven, at Sunshine Villas.’ The guard is called Alphonse, I’ll let him know you’re coming.’
‘Okay no worries, I’ll see you in a bit,’ Doug said.
Brian left the computer he was working on and made his way to the front gate, informing Alphonse of Doug’s imminent arrival. Alphonse responded with a big grin. ‘No problemo amigo.’
By the time he got back, Lucy was standing in the apartment in a micro bikini dripping wet. ‘Where you go,’ she demanded.
‘I’ve got a visitor coming, I told you about him. Stay out by the pool, we have important things to discuss.’
‘I see, so you don’t wants me now,’ she pouted.
‘No it’s not that, my friend does not know you’re here. I need to explain things to him first; I am not cutting you out.’
She waved an index finger in his face. ‘Yous better not,’ and with that, turned and walked back out to the pool.
It didn’t take Doug long to find Sunshine Villas. He drove past the White Marlin Hotel and stopped beside a vegetable kiosk. He got generalised directions and further down the road, he repeated the process at another kiosk, in no time he was outside the gate. ‘Are you Alphonse?’ he asked.
The guard looked at him. ‘Yes, you are the visitor for the mzungu?’ Doug nodded. Alphonse opened the gate and pointed into the garden. ‘Uko, number seven,’ he said.
Doug walked into the apartment skirting wet footprints on the tiled floor. ‘Brian?’ he called out.
Brian heard him and yelled. ‘Doug! Come, I’m upstairs.’
Doug looked around him, frowning at the prints leading out to the pool. He couldn’t see anyone. He located the stairs and found Brian on the computer. ‘This looks interesting,’ he said, ‘how did you end up here, and whose apartment is this?’
Brian smiled. ‘It’s a long story, but we’ve got a spare room so you can stay, no problem.’
‘We, as in you and I?’
Brian looked sheepish. ‘No, there’s a girl.’
‘Aha,’ a girl. He peered at the paper coming out of the printer. ‘So what’s all this stuff then?’
‘It’s a summary of the NNB Bank accounts to do with the Golden Palm, I uploaded a copy to my e-mail before I left Nairobi.
‘Oh, so what’s with the girl - she let you use her computer? How much does she know?’
Brian heard the irritation in Doug’s voice. ‘Listen it’s alright, sit down and I’ll explain to you.’
Doug pulled up a chair. ‘Ok, this had better be good.’ He listened carefully and waited for Brian to finish. ‘So I take it, that this is not her apartment or computer?’
‘No it’s some Italian guy, a friend, away in Italy called Antonio.’
‘Oh boy, I need a drink, have you got any beers?’
‘Listen mate, Lucy has only been incredibly helpful so far, we’re safe here. There’s a beer in the fridge downstairs, I’ll get it for you.’
The stairs were wet and he almost slipped. Lucy had obviously been eavesdropping; he went back with the beers.
Doug said. ‘While I quench my thirst, you’d better read this,’ and handed over a copy of Katana’s report.
Brian gave him a curious look and then started to read. ‘Wow,’ he muttered under his breath. ‘Where did you get this?’
‘My uncle.’
Brian stood up and stealthily moved to the top of the stairs, looking down at Lucy’s startled upturned face. ‘We need some privacy, go and do some shopping.’
Lucy caught out and not in the least bit put off, charged up the stairs and brushed past Brian to stare at Doug. The two of them eyed one another. Doug said evenly. ‘You’re Lucy,’ taking in her sexy figure.
‘Yes, me friends of Birin,’ pointing at Brian.
‘Okay,’ said Doug with a grin, ‘me also friends, of Birin.’
Brian interrupted. ‘Lucy, I need to discuss important things with Doug.’ Fishing out his wallet he took out two thousand shillings. ‘Can you go and get us more food and beers?’
She took the money without taking her eyes off Doug. ‘Okay, yous tell everythings,’ she said to Brian as she walked past him.
‘Quite a firebrand you’ve got,’ said Doug, ‘Somali, no doubt.’
Brian grunted. ‘She’s been very helpful.’ Sitting down again he picked up the report. ‘So this means the two thugs that hijacked you and Gem are now both dead and this Rubia cop is coordinating all this.’
Doug nodded. ‘Yup, and more importantly, the cops here in Malindi are also involved.’
Brian leaned back and squeezed his forehead with his hand. ‘Let me get this straight,’ he muttered, ‘Rubia is the head of the counter terrorism unit in Kenya and he has been hired by either the Indian or Evans - or both - to have me killed.’
‘Yup,’ said Doug, ‘and we’re pretty sure he had a hand in the death of a senior immigration officer that had something to do with the fiasco over your missing work permit.’
Brian slumped in his chair. ‘What the hell are we going to do?’
‘First off, this little tart of yours is a liability.’ Brian frowned at Lucy being described as a tart. Doug held his hand up. ‘Hear me out, how much does the girl know?’
‘It’s difficult to say, but she knows that Evans is involved with Patel and today she located what appeared to be his house.’
‘And she knows you’re wanted by the police. Correct?’
‘Yes, but you should have seen the way they treated her.’
‘And what have you promised her - money?’
Brian frowned. ‘Yes, she needs something for her help.’
‘So in your assessment,’ Doug said sarcastically, ‘there’ll be no way she’ll be heading to the police station, she’ll have gone out shopping, like a good little girl.’
‘Yes, I trust her, and you don’t know her.’
Doug leaned back. ‘You ex-pats are all the bloody same. You come out here with your do-gooder attitude, assume that the poor African is an innocent and would be so much better off if he followed your ideal
s, given a little education; his obvious handicap is just simply misplaced ignorance. That little bitch - contrary to what you think - has you by the balls. It’s only a matter of time. She knows that if you don’t play along she can go straight to the cops and you’re fucked.’
‘No, she won’t go there, she hates them.’
‘She’ll go wherever the money is, and basically if the police or their agents offer her more than you do, you’re done for, no correction, we are done for. In a nutshell, the only other person in Malindi who knows you are still alive is me and you say she knows Evans and Patel. How much do you think they would be willing to pay for that information? Huh, tell me?’
‘Okay, so what are you suggesting - we bump her off? That seems to be the solution to all Kenyan problems. Don’t you think you’re being a little bit paranoid?’ Brian challenged.
Doug held back his anger. ‘I’m in a whole bunch of shit, because of you. I had a nice life till you came along and now I’m on a murder charge, all because of your bloody mzungu ignorance.’
Brian frowned. ‘Listen man, I am just as much a victim as you. I was only doing my job. I didn’t know I was going to get embroiled with a whole bunch of crooks. I am sorry that you’ve been drawn into this thing, but I didn’t set up this shit. There may be things that I am naïve about, but I think it is time we started to concentrate on finding a solution. I’m grateful for your help, really I am.’
Doug held his hands up. ‘Okay I hear you. Now my uncle has gone up to Nairobi talk to the Minister of National Security. However, it is not enough just to present the evidence we have on Rubia so far. In order to get more weight applied, we need to get your government involved.’
Brian looked puzzled. ‘More weight, my government?’
‘Yes, as of now, you are missing, presumed dead, people go missing all the time in this country, and unless some pressure is applied, nobody does anything. My uncle has told me that you need to get hold of your sister in England and tell her what has happened. You need to explain she must not reveal you have called her - and instigate a search for you through the Foreign Office. They will be duty bound to contact and pressurise the relevant Kenyan authorities to mount a search for you - in this case – Rupert Omollo the Minister of National Security, who incidentally is Rubia’s boss. This is crucial for my uncle’s success in applying pressure to the ministry. It has to happen in this sequence within the next couple of days. Do you think your sister will agree to do that?’
Brian threw his hands up in the air. ‘Does it have to be so fucking complicated? Why do I have to ask my sister to get involved, there has to be another way around this, why can’t she say I’m alive?’
‘Because then protocol dictates it’s a Kenyan police matter and you’re back in the lion’s den with no help from your government. Listen, my uncle has some very powerful contacts. He is not just trying to save your ass, he is getting this whole mess sorted out so that I can go back to the busy little life I had before you arrived on the scene.’
‘Ok, but I’ll have to talk my sister and so far I’ve had no luck, only getting her answer machine.’
Doug pointed at the computer. ‘Send her an email?’
Brian agreed. ‘Okay, yes that would work, but it would be much better if I spoke to her.’
‘Good, let’s compile an email to her now and then this evening when it’s dark, we can also try and call her.’
Brian prompted by Doug, typed out a draft of the e-mail. ‘It’s vital that she gets all the relevant facts in one go. Once she gets hold of the foreign office, my uncle says her computer and phone will be monitored.’
Brian stopped typing. ‘Monitored by whom, how the hell does Firdus know this?’
Doug smiled. ‘Trust me, he knows they will be able to trace this e-mail right back to this computer if they need to.’
Brian looked thoughtful. ‘Bloody hell, you’re right.’
’Yup,’ said Doug, ‘so your sister will have to insist that your lack of communication with her is out of character and an urgent search for you needs to be instigated.’
Brian grimaced at the irony. ‘Here I am trying to hide and at the same time I am asking my government to get involved in trying to find me, how weird is that?’
‘Let’s just say you’re getting an education on how to survive in an African country,’ and they both laughed.
*
Patel completed his meeting with the shipping agent in Mombasa. His next appointment was with a used car dealer where he collected a list of vehicles in stock. Leaving his card with the manager he said. ‘I will call you once I have made a decision.’ Then, with nothing left to do, he drove slowly and reluctantly towards Malindi. He needed time to think.
On the drive up he was unaware he passed Dogra and Cyrus on their way to Nairobi. Patel drove directly to his house, greeting the smiling old askari and was pleased to see his other Landcruiser - he steeled himself for the inevitable confrontation with Azizza.
Patel walked in the kitchen to find her standing there and could not hold her fierce gaze. ‘Hello, I’m tired,' he brushed past her in greeting. Azizza, relieved and angry at the same time, stood for a moment indecisive. She then put the kettle on and prepared the tea tray. Waiting for the kettle to boil she tried to recapture her anger and then gave up, so relieved to see him again.
Taking the tea through to him, she put it down by his chair and then sat down opposite. ‘You have some explaining to do.’
Patel held up his hand. ‘Yes,’ he agreed, ‘things have been difficult. Evans got his car?’
She nodded. ‘Yes, he’s happy.’
Patel leaned back in his chair. ‘At least somebody is.’
Azizza raised her eyebrows. ‘Come on Mister, spit it out, what the hell have you been up to? And why are you driving a car with Tanzanian plates?’
Patel stalled. ‘You did the transfer to the account in Mombasa?’
Azizza glared at him. ‘Yes it’s gone.’
‘Thank you for sticking a password on our account,’ he said sarcastically, going on the attack.
She smiled at him without humour. ‘It’s a good thing; I don’t think I would have seen you or the money again.’
‘Oh come now my dear, we have to trust one another.’
‘Trust?’ She snorted, ‘trust!’ Her voice rising.
‘Yes,’ said Patel, ‘have I ever let you down?’
Azizza ignored the question. ‘You just walk out on me and the next thing I know, you are Nairobi and Dar-es-salaam. What was that huge amount of money to Kamau for?’
‘Listen, it was necessary to safe-guard our interests.’
‘And I suppose it’s no coincidence that Nicholls has met with a mysterious accident? Huh, tell me.’
Patel smiled a little smile. ‘Come now my dear, your imagination is running wild. You know these mzungus, they come out here and behave like they know everything. No-one in their right mind would go into the park on their own - anything could happen in the bush - it’s a dangerous place.’
Azizza scowled. ‘I don’t believe you for one minute. You used Kamau the immigration man as your contact, who has also “gone missing.”You’re a miserable liar, for all I know, the men that killed him are probably now looking for us.’
Patel said firmly. ‘No, Kamau’s death has nothing to do with us. It is coincidental, just a hazard of his career.’
‘So what was that money for?’ She demanded.
Patel sighed wearily, seeming to lose interest in the conversation. He stared at his teacup and repeated quietly. ‘It was a necessary expense and I needed another passport. Listen,’ he went on, ‘for the sake of argument, Kamau would not have revealed who I was and even if he did, there is no link to you, so you’re perfectly safe.’
Wanting to believe him she said. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes dear. Apart from Evans, no one knows of your involvement.
‘And what about Nicholls?’
‘You read the papers; he i
s out of the picture’
‘So what’s the story now,’ she asked, ‘is Evans the next one to have an accident and after that it will be my turn?’
‘Listen stop this, your imagination is getting the better of you, there is nothing to be afraid of. I have thought it through and all I am doing is protecting our interests.’
Azizza shook her head persisting. ‘So what’s with the other car, the TZ plates and this other passport?’
‘That’s part of my escape plan, and it could be yours too,’ he added confidentially.
She retorted. ‘Why should I trust you with anything now?’
He stirred sugar into his tea. ‘Trust?’ He said, echoing her earlier statement. ‘As of now you’ve got all my money - and yours - and you talk to me about trust?’
She smiled. ‘Yes, you see I haven’t run away with it, isn’t that an indication that you can trust me?’
Patel chuckled. ‘You’re a crafty one my dear.’
Azizza took this as a compliment and smiled. ‘Yes.’
He tacked. ‘I think it’s time to wind up this operation.’
She looked puzzled. ‘I thought, that with Nicholls now out of the picture, we could continue as normal. What else has happened that I don’t know about?’
‘My dear, sometimes one has to cut one’s losses.’
Azizza was thrown by this simple statement. ‘What do you mean? Why, can’t we just keep going?’
‘It was all going very smoothly, but now it’s got very complicated and my instincts say we now need to extricate ourselves.’
‘Okay suppose we do stop, what do you suggest?’
He rubbed his hands together. ‘Now, before we go any further, I want you to transfer the rest of my money in dollars, to the account in Mombasa. What you do with your half is up to you. I would not leave it in that account,’ he advised.
Azizza was stunned, she hadn’t thought this through, and if she transferred the money, her grip on Patel would be over. ‘They won’t transfer large amounts like that in one go.’
‘Yes I understand, but you can transfer the maximum amount every day over the next few days. If the bank raises any questions, we have the NGO’s certificates validating our organisation.’
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