Elephant Dropping (9781301895199)

by Trzebinski, Bruce

  ‘Everyones like Lucy,’ she informed him.

  ‘I’m sure, but this Evans can you talk to him?’

  ‘Yesis what yous want me say?’

  ‘You know your friend here,’ pointing at Brian, ‘is in a lot of trouble. Some people are trying to kill him.’

  Lucy nodded. ‘Because of moneys, yes I know.’

  ‘You say he drinks in a bar. Could you persuade him to follow you somewhere so we could talk in private to him?’

  Lucy snorted. ‘Easy no problem, when you wants thisis?’

  ‘Do you think he will be in that bar tonight?’

  ‘Yes every nights. Maybe with Indian like you and Arab woman.’

  ‘I’m not an Indian, I’m a Goan, but then a Giriama like you wouldn’t know that.’

  ‘I’m not a Giriama,’ Lucy hissed at him. ‘I’m a Somal.’

  ‘And I’m not an Indian.’

  ‘You looks like muhindi,’ Lucy dismissed him.

  ‘And you look like a Giriama,’ Doug retorted.

  Brian interrupted the escalating hostility. ‘Who is the woman?’

  Lucy looked daggers at Doug. ‘She is with the Indian man or maybe he is “gowon”.’

  Doug ignored the taunt. ‘They work together?’

  ‘I see she is always with him. She likes him too much, but he useless like you, thin and no power,’ she motioned with her slim forearm rudely.

  Doug couldn’t resist. ‘And Evans, he has the power? Eh?

  Lucy arched her eyebrows. ‘Shuwa he African mans,’ throwing down a challenge.

  Doug addressed Brian. ‘I’m game if you are, it’s not as though he can run to the cops, and you are still his boss.’

  ‘Ok,’ Brian agreed.

  *

  Later that evening Doug dropped Brian near the town centre so he could call his sister. ‘Take Lucy with you, she will keep the other ladies away from a stud like you. Get it?’ Brian didn’t get it he was nervous and preoccupied. He pulled his baseball cap lower. ‘Try and relax,’ Doug punched him lightly on the shoulder.

  Lucy and Brian made their way into the old town. Lucy had insisted that she wear the high heels and was walking at a foreshortened pace, forcing Brian to stop every few paces and wait for her, increasing his anxiety.

  At the telephone kiosk, Brian stood at the window. Two people, a man and a woman chatted to one another inside the shop, he waited for them to notice him, they chatted on. Lucy pushed Brian to one side. ‘Hey,’ she shouted, ‘you don’t want customer?’

  The woman ambled over to the window. ‘Yes?’

  ‘Ahh hello, I would like to make a phone call to England.’

  ‘Not possible,’ she said and went back to her conversation.

  ‘But,’ Brian protested, ‘I called from here the other day.’

  Lucy interjected speaking fast in Kiswahili, her voice rising.

  The woman answered her patiently and shrugged.

  ‘The phone no work,’ Lucy told Brian.

  ‘Oh shit, is there another place where I can call?’ Lucy shook her head. ‘What the hell do we do now?’ Brian asked.

  ‘Hice cream,’ Lucy suggested amiably.

  ‘I need to make a vital call to my sister and all you can think about is bloody ice cream.’ He retorted irritably.

  ‘You no speak to me likey that you fukins bastard,’ she yelled.

  Brian alarmed and aware that people were now looking in their direction capitulated. ‘Lucy I’m sorry. I’m not angry with you, I’m angry at the situation,’ he tried to reason.

  She stepped away from him affronted. ‘You, you want to messes with me?’ she shouted.

  ‘Please, please, don’t make a scene now, let’s get an ice cream, good idea,’ he pleaded.

  She only glared at him, aware of the growing audience. ‘Ok and new shoes, yes?’

  ‘Yes honey,’ said Brian relieved, ‘ice cream, new shoes.’

  She took his arm. ‘Don’t speak with me liki that, ok.’

  ‘Ok,’ Brian smiled weakly, amid wide grins and nods of approval from the onlookers. Later Brian helped her select shoes that were a little easier to walk in. She left her stilettos in the shop promising to collect them in the morning.

  They joined Doug in the car park of the Day and Night Club. Brian slid wordlessly into the cab.

  ‘I go make piss,’ Lucy announced and walked into the bar.

  ‘So how did it go mate? Speak to your sister?’

  ‘No, the telephones are out of order.’

  ‘Just as well we sent that e-mail then, eh?’

  ‘I suppose so,’ said Brian glumly.

  ‘There’s no Mercedes in this car park,’ said Doug, ‘I guess if he’s in the bar, Lucy will spot him.’

  ‘I’m not at all sure about this plan.’

  Doug asked mildly. ‘Which part of it?’

  ‘Involving Lucy, it will put her in danger.’

  ‘Oh, so you’re concerned about her safety are you?’

  ‘It’s not just that.’ He told Doug what had happened outside the telephone booth.

  Doug chuckled softly to himself. ‘Now you know not to use swear words around her don’t you.’

  ‘Yeah, but I wasn’t swearing at her, she has a short fuse.’

  ‘Nevertheless, don’t use swear words around her or any African, particularly a Somali and whatever you do, never, ever, call her stupid because that she certainly isn’t. I think she’s perfect for the part and if she can pull Evans, it will make our job much easier.’

  ‘You’re right; I’m disappointed I couldn’t speak to my sister.’

  ‘Okay mate,’ Doug said cheerily, ‘let’s leave Lucy here and go back to the telephone place, the lines may be back on, it’s seldom a long time glitch.’

  Brian brightened. ‘Yes, but do you mind if you tell her,’ pointing at the bar, ‘I don’t want another fight.’

  ‘No problem mate,’ Doug went into the bar. In a few moments he was back. ‘She’s happy, she’s with her mates.’

  They drove back to the old town and this time Brian was able to get through. His sister was relieved to hear his voice. He reassured her that everything was okay but it was very important that she carry out the instructions in the email.

  ‘Brian, are you sure that you want me to do this?’

  ‘Yes Sally, it’s vital. You’re the only one I can trust.’

  ‘Okay, I’ll do it.’

  He joined Doug back in the Landrover. ‘I got through. She’s got the email and is going to do what we suggested.’

  ‘Great, now it’s my turn, I need to leave a message for my uncle.’

  TWENTY

  Dogra sat and shivered with cold as the car made its way up the last few hills into the outskirts of Nairobi. Cyrus and his companion were oblivious to his plight. They chewed miraa and tossed the stalks out of the open windows. Loud rap music blared on the radio, they had forgotten about him.

  Twice they had been forced off the road by on-coming lorries in a race to the coast, each near miss adding to his fear and misery. The two in the front getting high, viewed it only as a game, cheering and grinning at each close encounter. He wished he had never come to this country; it was all so wild and dangerous. As soon as he saw Patel, he was going to resign from this job and insist he be sent back home. Holding this thought, strengthened his resolve and took the edge off his fear.

  Soon they were driving through the city. Cyrus had hardly slowed his highway pace and all but ignored the traffic lights as they hurtled recklessly through intersections and roundabouts. Eventually they turned off into a leafy tree-lined suburb and came to a halt outside a double story non-descript house; there was no gate.

  ‘Ok Patel, time to meet the boss. Cold eh?’ Cyrus said, as he noticed Dogra shivering and unlocked the handcuffs. They went into the house where a uniformed policeman was lying half asleep across the reception counter.

  ‘Is the Boss in?’ Cyrus asked in greeting. The cop waved his finger at the stairs.
‘Keep an eye on this one,’ Cyrus pointed at Dogra as the two of them went up. ‘Put him in the interview room,’ he called back over his shoulder, ‘and make us some tea.’

  The cop got up wearily. ‘Follow me,’ he said to Dogra and led him down a passageway into a small windowless room. A few scattered plastic chairs and a table were all the room contained. ‘Sit.’

  Rubia was on the phone as Cyrus and his companion knocked and went in. He put the phone down, smiling. ‘You made good time. So tell me all your news.’

  Cyrus related all the events that had taken place over the last few days, interrupted now and then by Rubia as he clarified a point.

  ‘Very good,’ Rubia congratulated them, ‘and this Patel fellow, he was no trouble?’

  ‘None at all,’ they agreed.

  ‘Ok, I can take it from here, you two must be tired.’

  Cyrus got up. ‘Sir, do you know where I can get hold of Titus? I haven’t heard of him for the past few days and there is some mystery over how Loda got himself shot.’

  ‘Yes, it’s a shame about Loda, now you can see how ruthless these terrorists can be. Patel will have answers for me I’m sure. As to Titus, I told you on the phone, he is on another secret assignment.’

  ‘Ok, very good Sir,’ Cyrus said as he left.

  Rubia stretched luxuriantly in his chair as he waited for the sound of the car to leave. He rubbed his hands together in eager anticipation. He went to the door and yelled down the stairs. ‘Sergeant! The muhindi, bring him to my office.’

  ‘Ok Sah!’

  Rubia went back to his desk and sat down. There was a knock on the door and Dogra, followed by the sergeant, walked in. ‘Ahh Patel, I have been looking forward to our meeting.’ Rubia waved the sergeant away. ‘I don’t want to be disturbed. So, Patel, you have led us a merry dance, eh?’

  Dogra held his hands between his knees and shivered. ‘Is this the imm immig..ration depart…ment ..?’ he stammered.

  ‘Immigration,’ Rubia laughed, ‘no, no, no, my friend, this is anti-terrorism, and you are in a lot of trouble.’

  Dogra looked confused. ‘And Patel, he said he..he..he, he would meet me here in Nairobi..’

  ‘Patel, what is this shit? You want to play games with me?’

  Dogra his head nodding up and down said, ‘No sir, I was told there was a problem...m..m with my work permit.’

  ‘What who told you that?’

  ‘Patel … s..sir.’

  Rubia scowled at him, suspiciously. ‘What is your name?’

  The Indian looked fearfully at the scowling face. ‘Patel, no, I mean, yes. My name is Jayant Dogra,’ he finished miserably.

  ‘What!’

  ‘I was told by Patel to say I was Patel because of a problem with my work permit. Patel said he would meet me here, and sort it all out,’ his voice trailing off and head nodding from side to side.

  ‘Do you have any ID on you?’

  ‘Yes sir,’ Dogra fished out his work permit from his pocket and handed it over the desk, hand trembling.

  Rubia read the details. ‘Let me get this straight,’ he put his fingertips together. ‘You are Dogra. You have just started work at the Pollycans factory in Malindi. And Patel told you there was a problem with your work permit, and you must say your name is Patel.’

  ‘Yes sir.’

  ‘Well what does Patel look like?’ asked Rubia.

  ‘I-I-I have not met him sir.’

  Rubia leant back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. Suddenly he leaned forward and shouted. ‘Fucking Fimbo!’

  Dogra jerked back in alarm.

  ‘You Patel, Dorga whatever you name is, when you were arrested, was there a big policeman with a stick?’

  ‘YesI..I, there was one,’ Dogra fingered his face.

  ‘Right,’ Rubia clenched his fists, eyes bulging in frustration. ‘Fuck off.’ He pointed at the door.

  ‘Pardon sir,’ Dogra said, looking confused.

  ‘I said fuck off, get out of my sight, now!’

  Dogra got up and gingerly reached for his papers.

  ‘No!’ Rubia rounded his desk and manhandled him roughly all but throwing him down the stairs. ‘Sergeant, take this man away.’

  The sergeant held Dogra by the wrist. ‘The interview room sir?’

  ‘No, throw him out, I don’t want him here.’

  ‘Very good sir,’ he dragged Dogra behind him and then pushed him out of the door into the car park.

  Dogra hesitated in confusion. ‘Please,’ he began.

  ‘Get lost muhindi, before my boss changes his mind.’

  Dogra looked about wildly. ‘I don’t know where I am. I must get to the Indian embassy,’ he pleaded.

  The sergeant said. ‘Follow that road and you will get to your embassy,’ he went back into the building and shut the door.

  Dogra fought back tears as he stumbled down the road. It was bitterly cold and dark, he held out his hands in supplication to a passing motorist, but the car swerved around him and drove on.

  He stood and bit onto his shirtsleeve to quieten his teeth and listened intently. In the distance he could hear traffic and the sky through the trees was lighter. He was so cold he could hardly think straight, as he doggedly headed in that direction. He reached a cross road lit by a single street lamp, the noise of traffic now louder, he continued on the road and stopped to listen, he had a feeling he was being followed. Was that a padding noise he could hear behind him as he quickened his pace?

  He took a few quick steps and stopped. The padding noise also stopped, a tad slower, only this time it was closer. In a panic he started to run, an animal was after him, maybe a wild dog or even a lion! His shoes slapped the tarmac loudly as he rounded a dimly lit corner. He could make out the highway, cars and lights at last he was safe. Suddenly he was struck viciously on the head from behind. He stumbled to his knees, lightning quick little hands emptied his pockets and removed his shoes as he knelt there trying to comprehend what was happening to him, and then they were gone, three street children merging into the inky blackness of the forest. Dogra lay on the tarmac and groaned, tears pouring down his cheeks. Eventually shoeless and bleeding from the head, he stumbled onto the edge of the highway, and passed out.

  TWENTY-ONE

  The car park at the nightclub was full so they parked outside just off the road. Brian and Doug sat in the Landrover. ‘This plan with Evans, how do we know once we make the initial approach, that he won’t do a bunk or go to the police and expose us?’ Brian asked.

  ‘We don’t, so we must get into the bank tonight.’

  ‘Tonight! What if he doesn’t have the keys?’

  ‘He will have,’ assured Doug, ‘he is the manager, right?’

  ‘Yes, but I hadn’t thought we would move so fast.’

  ‘You want to give him time to think about it?’

  ‘No no, it’s not that,’ Brian tailed off. ‘I guess I never quite saw myself in this criminal role.’

  Doug chuckled. ‘They say cops are just frustrated thieves.’

  ‘I’m not a cop, I’m an analyst.’

  ‘Hang on here, I will go and see what Miss Malindi has been up too.’ Doug walked through the gate and spotted a sleek Mercedes, he turned and gave the thumbs up to Brian. The club was loud and crowded. Along with the noise, the smell of sweat and beer pervaded the atmosphere. He found Lucy sitting by the bar looking discontented with a pair of other wallflowers.

  She got up when she saw him. ‘Where you been?’ she shouted angrily in his ear. ‘Where Birin!’

  ‘He’s outside, don’t yell at me sister,’ warned Doug.

  She sneered at him. ‘I no your sister, gowan.’

  ‘Damn right, is the man here?’ He asked.

  Lucy inclined her head at a corner table. ‘With thoses girls.’

  ‘Wait here,’ Doug said and walked over for a closer look. Evans, tie half-undone held court with two women. Judging by the amount of bottles on the table he was planning to make a night o
f

  it. Doug made his way back to Lucy. ‘What time did he get here?’

  She shrugged. ‘One hours.’

  ‘Did you try to talk to him?’

  ‘No, he with those two malayas,’ she said scornfully.

  ‘Do you know them?’

  ‘No theys uglys,’ she said.

  Doug watched the table. ‘He looks like he is getting pretty drunk, go and see if you can get his attention.’

  She resisted. ‘How? Those two will give me shit.’

  ‘Have a go, as you said, they are ugly and you are beautiful.’

  ‘Yes I know.’ She walked over and waded straight in, leaning over a chair and tugging at Evans’s tie. ‘Hey mister, you remember me?’

  Evans startled, adjusted his glasses and peered at the hand holding his tie. Then he looked up. ‘You!’ He said recognising her. ‘The little liar, have you just got out of jail again?’

  One of the women seized Lucy’s hand. ‘Hey!’ she shouted. The two fought a small silent battle with Evan’s tie, as he in turn tried to pull away. Eventually Lucy let go.

  ‘Are you going to get me a drink?’ Lucy demanded from Evans, glaring a warning at the other woman.

  The woman stood up and pushed Lucy. ‘Piss off, get lost.’

  Evans cackled in delight. ‘Yes you heard her, piss off.’

  Lucy turned and snarled at her. ‘He doesn’t pay! You will find out,’ and walking away from the table made her way back to Doug, the women staring after her.

  ‘That went well,’ said Doug to the fuming Lucy.

  ‘Where Birin? I don’t want this shits anymore.’

  Doug followed Lucy outside. ‘Is that his Mercedes?’ he asked as they crossed the car park.

  She nodded. ‘Where’s Birin?’

  ‘We parked by the road,’ Doug replied.

  Lucy spotted the Landrover and strode past him. ‘Birin,’ she called out. ‘I don’t want this shits, let’s go back to the house,’ she reached in the door and put her arm possessively round his neck.

  ‘Let’s go home,’ she said pouting, ‘thisis place full of stupids.’

  ‘In a moment,’ Brian smiled and gently disengaged her arm.