‘So long as Rubia is where he is, I can almost guarantee that if he finds Nicholls he will have him killed. The British Embassy already knows the Englishman is missing; you can avert a huge diplomatic row. You must stop Rubia as soon as possible.’ Firdus was adamant.
Omollo leaned back in his chair disappointed. ‘Shit,’ he muttered, ‘so Fernandez, what do you expect me to do now? I mean I don’t have that much experience in these matters.’
Firdus leaned forward in earnest and explained to the minister exactly what to do, an old hand with a new pupil. He emerged from the minister’s office ten minutes later giving Katana the thumbs up; the minister did not see him out.
‘Rose, cancel all my appointments for the rest of the day,’ they overheard Omollo instructing, as Katana collected his gun from the security guard.
They walked down the hall towards the lifts, Katana suddenly said. ‘My papers!’ and turned back.
‘Don’t worry about it, they’re in safe hands.’ Firdus said as they reached the top of the stairwell and started the long walk down.
‘I was surprised to see you after the way you spoke to the minister. I was sure he was going to have you thrown in jail.’
Firdus smiled. ‘Yes he would have liked that.’
‘So what happened, what did you say to him?’
‘I gave him a small history lesson. I was head of Special Force when Kenyatta was in power.’
Katana stopped and looked at Firdus in awe.
‘I had no idea. So what happens now, will the British Embassy get the papers?’
‘No,’ Firdus said with a grin, walking down the stairs, ‘that was just a bluff. I should also teach you how to play poker one day.’
Katana laughed. ‘Yes, that would be good, very good sir.’
TWENTY-THREE
When Doug arrived at Antonio’s apartment, Lucy barely looked up from painting her toenails. ‘Is Brian up?’
She scowled and jerked her chin at the stairs.
Doug found him unshaven, working on the computer.
‘How’s it going?’ Doug asked.
‘Been a hell of a night, I’ve only had a few hours sleep.’
‘Yeah, you look like shit. What have you found out?’
‘Not much more than we already know,’ he yawned and switched off the computer. ‘You want a coffee - how was your night?’
‘I got a room at the Tree Lodge in town, slept like a baby.’
‘So is that yes to a coffee?’
‘Black, two sugars. Do you mind if I have it up here, your girlfriend’s not too friendly.’
‘Ok, it might help if you apologised.’
‘Yes,’ Doug agreed, ‘it might.’
Brian went downstairs and reappeared later with two mugs of coffee. Lucy followed, she walked awkwardly, her toes splayed out, the nail polish drying.
‘Lucy I’m sorry for the way I treated you.’ Doug said.
‘Me Somali, gowan, I never forgive you,’ her eyes bulged dramatically and her hand imitated a knife cutting her throat.
Doug shrugged looking at Brian. ‘What’s the plan this morning?’
‘You and Lucy are to follow Azizza when she leaves the bank this morning and see where she takes the money.
Doug snorted. ‘Why do I have to do it with her?’
‘You don’t know what Azizza looks like do you?’
Lucy announced. ‘I no go anywheres with this shit gowan.’
‘I’m bloody tired and I have to be here, on the computer,’ Brian said getting exasperated.
‘Yous says yesterday, you get moneys,’ Lucy complained.
‘It’s not that easy love. We have to wait for the right time.’
‘Mens, all liars,’ she declared.
‘What time do we have to be at the bank?’ Doug asked.
Brian glanced at his watch. ‘You’d better get going, Evans told me Azizza comes in between ten and ten thirty and we can’t afford to miss her. Call me when you see her.’
‘Ok, better get your girlfriend dressed and tone down her attire will you. I’m going to wait in the car.’
Fifteen minutes later Lucy sulkily got in beside Doug, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt.
They sat in the car in pained silence outside the bank from where they could watch the front doors. People came and went; regular traffic in and out of the bank. At ten thirty a white Landcruiser drove in. ‘It’s she,’ Lucy hissed, ‘the harab bitchis, good for you, look looses old bottom.’
Azizza stepped from the vehicle; she studied Evans’s Mercedes for a moment and then went into the bank.
Doug rang Brian. ‘She’s at the bank.’
Evans was also watching for Azizza and hurried into his office to wait for her. ‘Morning Azizza,’a smirk on his face, ‘you have some more loans?’ He said unnecessarily as she sat down and handed him the forms. ‘How is our friend Patel?’
‘He is fine. I see you have crashed your car?’ She said mildly.
‘Not me! A fool last night, but he will pay.’
‘Oh good,’ she said returning his smirk.
‘You heard about my boss Nicholls?’
‘Heard what?’
‘Oh, he is still missing,’ a glint in his eye.
Azizza frowned and pointed at the forms unattended on the desk. ‘Is there a problem?’
‘No, no problem,’ Evans signed each one with a flourish.
Azizza rose to go.
‘Are you going to pay me my money soon?’ he asked.
‘Of course, you know you will get it.’
‘Yes I do,’ he said with a smile.
Azizza completed her payments with the teller and took the remaining cash in a large brown envelope.
‘Here she is,’ Doug said as Azizza emerged from the bank.
‘Ahh,’ Lucy gasped, ‘look the bag, much money!’
They followed her at a discreet distance, the Landcruiser stopping at the CNB bank.
Doug rang Brian. ‘She has just entered the other bank.’
‘Excellent, come back to the flat now.’
Lucy got out of the car and made to cross the road.
‘Where are you going?’ Asked Doug.
She snarled at him. ‘Go fuck yous gowan,’
‘Fuck you too,’ he said as he drove off, back to the flat.
Doug found Brian in the office staring at the computer muttering incoherently to himself.
‘What is it?
‘There’s a password on the account, I can’t get in.’
‘Which account?’ asked Doug.
‘Golden Palm,’ Brian pointed at the computer.
‘What do you mean a password?’ said Doug.
Brian said slowly with emphasis. ‘The Golden Palm bank account has a secret password on it and I can’t get in.’
‘I see, so that’s fucked it up, hasn’t it.’
‘Yes, unless I find the password, we’re dead in the water.’
‘Can you not get around it?’ asked Doug.
I might be able to later, but I’m tired.’ He switched off the computer. ‘Where’s Lucy?’
‘I left her at the bank.’
‘You had better go back and collect her don’t you think.’
‘What I think, is inappropriate,’ muttered Doug.
‘What?’
‘I said, go and get her yourself,’ Doug replied.
‘Look I’ve been up all night, help me out a little here.’
‘Ok, I will go and look for her, happy now?’
‘Thanks mate,’ Brian sat lost in thought and as he heard the Landrover driving away, powered up the computer.
Doug looked for Lucy. She was nowhere to be seen. He waited for a few minutes outside the bank, then getting impatient drove back to the apartment.
Lucy was upstairs with Brian when he got there. ‘She made it back on her own,’ he said peering at the screen with Lucy watching intently.
‘Yes I can see that,’ said Doug dryly.
‘Jesus,’
muttered Brian and then tapping some figures into a desk calculator, he swore as he read the figure. ‘Fifty million shillings has gone from the account,’ Brian moved the cursor and tapped out numbers on the keypad, ‘it went to a bank in Mombasa.’
‘I thought you said there was a password?’
Brian sat back. ‘There is, it doesn’t prevent me looking at the account; I just can’t make any adjustments. Azizza must have done the transfer when she was in there.’
He turned to Lucy. ‘Did you wait for the Arab woman to come out of the bank?’
She nodded.
‘How long was she in there?’
‘A longi time,’ Lucy replied, frowning at Doug.
He ignored her and asked Brian. ‘How did you know how much was in the account yesterday?’
‘I read it off Evan’s computer.’ Brian replied.
‘So how much is left now?’
‘About six and a half million dollars.’
Lucy jumped up and down. ‘Ahh, sooo muchi money, let’s get it,’
Brian smiled. ‘Not so easy.’
‘Shit, do you think Evans said anything to her?’ Doug asked.
‘I doubt it, he’s not that stupid surely? Maybe they’re getting ready to do a runner, the money was transferred in dollars,’ Brian patted Lucy’s behind as she nestled in his lap. She whispered in his ear - Doug forgotten.
He got the message. ‘I’m going to go and call my uncle.’
*
Azizza completed her banking at the CNB bank, arranging Patel’s money transfer. She then went to the house.
He was on the phone when she walked in; he smiled at her as he hung up. ‘All ok my sweet?’
‘Yes, I have done your transfer to the bank in Mombasa. The manager was alarmed at the amount, but I explained that it was aid money for the NGO organisation.’
‘Very good,’ he rubbed his hands together.
‘I saw Evans this morning,’ she told him.
‘Oh how is he?’ Patel asked with little interest
‘Odd,’ she replied, ‘and he has already crashed his car.’
‘Hmmm, such a fool.’
‘He mentioned Nicholls and asked after you.’
Patel was now listening. ‘And?’
‘It was just strange, the way he was looking at me like he knew something I didn’t,’ she surmised.
‘So what did he say about Nicholls?’
‘Nothing really, he asked if there was any news.’
‘Hmmm, your intuition says what my dear?’
‘Odd is all, but another thing, that Somali malaya, Lucy, the one that Nicholls rescued from the police, was hanging about outside the CNB bank when I came out.’
‘Probably just a coincidence and maybe you’re just nervous. Do you plan to move your money?’ he asked pointedly.
‘Yes, and no don’t ask. By the way,’ she went on, ‘what about Evan’s share?’
‘What share?’ Patel asked.
‘He asked me about it - when, and how do we pay him?’
‘You can pay him my dear,’ Patel answered.
‘What, not likely,’ she retorted.
‘I feel the same way,’ he smiled at her.
She laughed. ‘What do you think will happen to him?’
‘I haven’t given it much thought, but if I were you I would get out of Malindi.’
‘I have distant relatives in Madagascar, perhaps I will visit them.’ She searched his face.
Patel turned away. ‘Good idea,’ he advised. ‘Now listen. I need both cars this morning I have work to do on them.’
‘I’m expected to walk?’ Stung by his indifference.
‘You’re a rich woman, buy yourself a nice car dear.’ Picking up the car keys he stepped outside. ‘See you in a while.’
His mobile rang; it was Farook the new owner of his plastic factory. ‘Oh hello,’ answered Patel warily.
‘Are you in Malindi?
‘No,’ he lied, ‘what’s up?’
‘Something very strange has happened. The police picked up my man Dogra, the new manager from the factory and took him to Nairobi. They weren’t just any police; they claimed to be an anti- terrorism unit.’
Patel listened frowning. ‘Anti-terrorism?’
‘Yes, he says you called him and said there was a problem with his work permit and if the police came he should say he was you.’
‘What? That’s crazy.’
‘Yes that’s what I said, anyhow he gets to Nairobi, they find out he is not you and he is released. He gets mugged by street kids and left for dead on the side of the road until a good Samaritan picks him up and takes him to hospital.’
‘What a story,’ replied Patel. ‘Was he hit on the head?’
‘So you didn’t call him?’
‘No, of course not, where did you get this rocket from Farook, he sounds mad.’
‘It’s a crazy story I agree, but why would the anti-terrorism police be looking for you?’
‘Me? Come on my friend, who the hell has ever heard of a police anti-terrorism unit? Your man has been duped.’
‘Yes you’re right, I just want to check with you, as you know the police quite well in Malindi. Can you ask what happened?’
‘Of course my friend, sorry you have had this trouble.’ Patel consoled him. ‘Call me if you hear anything else, speak to you soon.’
Patel was anxious when he drove to the town square and waited for Fimbo. There was a tap on the passenger side window, he opened the door and Fimbo climbed in. ‘Drive,’ waving his baton. A few hundred yards later he spoke again. ‘Stop here. My money?’
Patel handed over the agreed balance in an envelope; the cop glanced inside, grunted and put it in his pocket.
‘Your passport muhindi,’ he held out his hand.
‘Do you really need that?’
‘Don’t waste my time,’ he growled, ‘hand it over.’
‘And when do I get it back?’
‘When I get my car.’
Patel handed over another envelope holding onto one end as the inspector reached for it. ‘Now don’t you lose this,’ he cautioned still holding on as Fimbo tugged, he then let go.
‘No problem,’ Fimbo pocketed the envelope in a hurry, looking about him as he got out of the car, his business concluded. ‘Call me on Saturday after lunch about your driver.’
The mechanics Patel had arranged earlier were waiting for him at the gate when he drove back to the house, bags of tools by their feet. He showed them what he wanted done to his cars. ‘It shouldn’t take you long.’ They nodded.
‘How much will you pay?’ One of them asked.
‘If you finish today, I will give you two thousand each, ok?’
‘Two-five,’ the older mechanic said.
Patel said. ‘Let’s see how well you do the job.’
‘I always do good work, you know me.’
‘Yes but this time I want better work.’ He returned to the house as the mechanics began the job of transferring the modified fuel tanks from the Tanzanian vehicle, into Patel’s usual Landcruiser.
Azizza, busy filling out loan forms barely glanced at him.
He got on the phone and rang the car showroom in Mombasa arranging a viewing of Fimbo’s choice of cars on Saturday afternoon. ‘I don’t care if you close at noon,’ he said rudely, ‘do you want to sell these cars or not? Good, I thought so; make sure they are clean and well polished.’
He then rang the Royal Hotel and spoke to the manager. ‘David, this is Patel from Malindi. I have some VIPs coming to stay at your establishment over the weekend. No, one double. Your suite is available? Good, and I want the mini bar well stocked with cold beers and bottles of wine, no not champagne, spirits, a bottle of brandy, whisky, gin, the usual. Thank you, see you this weekend.’
Azizza was watching him. ‘Having a going away party?’
‘Something like that,’ he muttered, peering out of the window at the mechanics.
‘You look nervous,’ she o
bserved.
He looked at her in surprise, making an effort to relax.
‘You’re hiding something,’ she concluded.
Patel took a risk and told her about Farook’s phone call and the incident involving Dogra.
She listened, her mouth opened. ‘Anti-terrorist police?’
‘It’s ok,’ he reassured her, ‘I have paid Fimbo off.’
‘Oh my God,’ she breathed, ‘we are being hunted. That’s why that girl was at the bank. You knew all this was going on and didn’t tell me,’ her voice rising, ‘had me go out there like everything was normal this morning, you bastard.’
‘Hey, leave out the name calling. Why would they be looking for me?’ He asked. ‘Tell me?’
‘Someone has told them about the money, that’s why.’
‘No,’ Patel waved his hands at her. ‘My dear, calm down, you’re being paranoid. Fimbo is in our pocket. Who ever heard of an anti-terrorist force? They were just ordinary cops looking for Nicholls because he is missing, don’t you see? Come now my dear,’ he soothed, ‘be reasonable. If they were onto us, Evans would not have let you do those loans this morning,’ he put his hand on her arm in a rare gesture of affection. ‘If Evans was odd, surely it’s only because he has crashed his new car, don’t you think?’
She pulled her arm away. ‘You are such a liar. I have no idea what else you have done. Thank god I put that password on the account. You’re making such a mess - we are supposed to be partners.’
‘Mess, what mess?’ Patel said. ‘You banked another hundred thousand this morning, you call that a mess?’
A tear rolled down her cheek. ‘You just don’t understand.’
‘Understand what,’ genuinely bemused, holding his hands out.
‘I’m just scared,’ she said, as she wiped the tear away.
‘Scared of what? You’re not making any sense.’
‘It doesn’t matter, you wouldn’t understand,’ she sniffed.
‘Come on my dear,’ he patted her on the shoulder awkwardly like a strange child, ‘there is nothing to be scared of I have thought of everything, we only have a few more days left. You’re going to be free and a very rich woman, that’s nothing to cry about.’
She looked at him, eyes brimming and stood up pushing him away, before running to the bathroom and shutting the door behind her.
Patel sat puzzled. He could find no fault in his plans that Azizza could possibly get this upset about, what on earth had got into her? He shrugged his shoulders and then went out to check on the mechanics.
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