Elephant Dropping (9781301895199)

by Trzebinski, Bruce

  Taking the canvas hold alls he pushed them into the empty compartments trying them for size, they fitted perfectly. Retrieving the bags he placed them on the ground in front of the rear wheels driving back and forth slowly several times. Azizza came to watch these strange antics. Patel unfolded the canvas bags and examined the interior, the coffee grains now firmly embedded in the fabric.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘I love the smell of ground coffee.’

  ‘You always drink tea.’

  ‘Yes’ he said, ‘but, coffee has a much better smell.’

  Azizza walked over, puzzled. ‘You’re not making any sense.’

  ‘Dogs,’ Patel said, as he busied himself emptying the other spices over the space where the carpet would lie and partially secured the cover to the tank.

  ‘You’re carrying some dogs?’

  ‘No my sweet, customs men employ specially trained dogs, and coffee is the thing they can’t smell through.’

  ‘I see, that’s very clever, I didn’t realise how strange you really are,’ Azizza said, shaking her head.

  Patel smiled and then wiping his hands with a cloth, he turned to her. ‘A strange man with many talents, eh?’

  ‘What’s the point in having the two cars?’

  ‘One is a gift, in fact I haven’t charged you for the expense, you see I’m really a very nice man.’

  Azizza snorted in derision. ‘I’m sure when your mother first saw you she said, “Oh my God, what have I done”.’

  Patel laughed. ‘Actually I was my mother’s favourite.’ He hugged her clumsily as he pushed past her into the house. This rare show of affection unnerved her; she had so yearned to touch him, but had kept her arms by her side in surprise.

  Patel busied himself with the two suitcases, throwing his clothes into them, bunching them up so they took up more room filling each case in turn.

  ‘Are those also gifts, or do you always pack that way?’

  Patel didn’t answer, but concentrated on his task, shutting the cases and snapping the clasps shut. He smiled at her. ‘I’m just popping out to get fuel won’t be long.’

  Azizza watched him drive out, unanswered questions on her mind, what was he really up to? She could hardly bear the thought that in a few days he would be gone, out of her life, acknowledging miserably that she would do almost anything to stay with him.

  Patel pulled into a filling station, despite setbacks everything was going smoothly. Looking at his reflection in the driving mirror he winked and smiled at himself smugly.

  His smile turned to concern as he spotted something in the mirror and spun round. There was Evans’ Mercedes driving slowly past the station, but, it wasn’t Evans driving. It was a white man whom he recognised with a shock was Brian Nicholls! ‘Ayyyyyee,’ Patel exclaimed fearfully as he felt his stomach contract as though in a vice. What in the hell is Nicholls doing in Evans’s car?

  The pump attendant was talking to him. ‘Eh muhindi you ok?’ Patel heard nothing. He glanced at the pump and then handed over the money, started the car and without waiting for change drove slowly out of the station. He couldn’t go back to the house in this state, Azizza would read his fear, and the last thing he wanted was her in a panic. He reached a decision as he drove, but first he needed to check the parameters of the threat before he could map his escape. He pulled off the road and rang Evans.

  ‘Hey Patel, how are you?’ came the cheery response. ‘I haven’t seen you around for a while, everything ok?’

  ‘Yes,’ squeaked Patel. He covered the mouth piece and cleared his throat. ‘Yes, I have been busy. How are you, are you enjoying your car at last?’

  ‘Yea, it’s good to have the car back, except that some fool crashed into it the other night, but I’m getting it repaired.’

  ‘Oh, was there much damage?’

  ‘No, just the rear light and the boot.’

  ‘Let’s meet later at the club, maybe a game of darts?’ Patel listened ears straining for any change in the manager’s voice.

  ‘Yes that would be good, talk to you later.’ Evans rang off. Patel sighed. Evans was still free. Next he rang Fimbo.

  ‘Ahh muhindi, where are you?’

  ‘I’m around, listen I have organised my driver to collect you for the trip to Mombasa. I have booked and paid for your hotel, and arranged for you to see the cars. What time do you want to go?’

  ‘Goody news. Tell you driver to pick me at two at the police station, see you in Mombasa,’ and rang off.

  Patel felt calmer now, his mind working furiously he started the car and drove back to the house. He would have to convince Azizza to travel with him to Mombasa, she could easily do the transfer by phone from there tomorrow, and more to the point, he could make sure she didn’t run off with his half of the money. Having made this decision, he realised they would have to move fast.

  *

  As Brian parked the Mercedes, Alphonse gave him the thumbs up. ‘Good car sir,’ he said.

  ‘Yes,’ replied Brian distractedly, walking to the apartment. The door was open and he went upstairs. ‘Lucy?’

  ‘Yessy,’ came a reply from one of the bedrooms, she had a huge red suitcase open on the floor, and was busy going though Antonio’s wardrobe, selecting items of clothing.

  ‘What on earth are you doing?’ Brian asked.

  ‘I’m ready Nairobi,’ she held up a red T-shirt, ‘thissy your size.’

  ‘You can’t do that; those things don’t belong to us.’

  Lucy gave him an exasperated look. ‘We go Nairobi?’

  ‘Yes, but you can’t just help yourself to those clothes, I thought you said you were going shopping.’

  She kicked the giant suitcase in answer. ‘It’s good, big eh?’

  ‘Lucy you can’t do this, it’s stealing.’

  She looked puzzled. ‘The man he not here he no need thisy clothes, in Nairobi cold.’

  ‘Those are not our clothes we won’t be coming back here.’

  Lucy nodded in agreement. ‘Yessy so there is no problem,’ she continued to go through the wardrobe.

  ‘Listen, I can always buy you clothes in Nairobi.’

  ‘Oh good,’ she said undaunted, on with her selection.

  Brian didn’t know what to do; the last thing he wanted was an argument. ‘It’s not right,’ he said weakly and went downstairs.

  Doug was out by the pool and Brian joined him.

  ‘I see you got the car, no problems?’ asked Doug.

  ‘Yes it went well, Evans is happy, however I have another problem,’ and described the scene upstairs.

  Doug couldn’t resist a grin. ‘So Miss Malindi is a thief?’

  ‘No, I wouldn’t use that word; I think she is a little confused. What should I do? I offered to buy her clothes in Nairobi.’

  He scratched his head, more to stop a caustic comment than to appear as though he was thinking. ‘Go and tell her it’s bad luck.’

  ‘To do what, take the clothes?’

  ‘Don’t say it’s bad luck for her, say it’s bad luck for you. Just go upstairs, give her that message and then leave.’

  Brian went back. ‘Listen Lucy,’ she looked up. ‘Don’t pack any clothes for me.’

  ‘You don’t want clothees?’

  ‘No it’s bad luck,’ he said flatly.

  Her eyes widened. ‘Bady luck?’

  He left her with a small frown on her face.

  ‘All done?’ Doug asked.

  Brian shrugged unconvinced. ‘It didn’t seem to bother her.’

  ‘Wait, you will see. I spoke to my uncle. The car should be here around three o’clock tomorrow afternoon. It’s being delivered to the airport and we should get out of Malindi as soon as possible. He will be sending a team down to arrest Evans, Azizza and Patel.’

  ‘So what do we do about the Mercedes?’

  ‘Leave it here. Take the keys with us, after all it’s part of the evidence against Evans, he won’t be able to explain how he could afford
a car like that, will he?’ Doug smiled.

  ‘You’re right,’ agreed Brian, as he watched Lucy saunter over towards the pool. She crooked her finger at him and he smiled.

  ‘Looks like she is done with her packing.’

  Brian didn’t hear and started towards her.

  ‘Hey mate?’ Doug said loudly.

  ‘ Yes,’ Brian turned and stopped, ‘what is it?’

  ‘Before you pursue the light of your life, shall we go over the plan for tomorrow?’

  ‘You’re getting the car, and we are leaving.’

  ‘Yes I’m just wondering if there is anything we have overlooked before I leave you love birds in peace.’

  Brian looked abashed. ‘I don’t think there is anything else, later might take another crack at the computer.’

  ‘Ok good luck with that, see you tomorrow,’ Doug said as he left.

  TWENTY-SIX

  Patel stood waiting for the milk to boil, carefully going over his next few moves, he would have to be convincing or Azizza would smell a rat. Putting the cups on a tray, he poured the boiling milk into the teapot, adding a little masala to the tea leaves, just the way she liked it. He carried the tray through and set it on the table. ‘Here you are sweetheart.’

  Azizza looked up from the computer and scanned his face. He poured her tea, and sat down with a wistful sigh. ‘This has been fun my dear, hasn’t it?’

  She watched him over the rim of her teacup, as she sipped. ‘Mmm, masala, good tea.’

  ‘My dear, I have been thinking. I have never had a partner with whom I have worked so well with. Now that this project is coming to an end, I’m nervous.’

  ‘Nervous, about what?’

  ‘I don’t know quite how to say this,’ Patel looked at the floor, and then noisily sipped his tea. ‘You see my dear,’ his eyes open wide and said almost in a whisper, ‘I’m nervous about leaving here. I’m, going to miss you.’

  Azizza’s heart skipped a beat. ‘Yes I will miss you too.’

  Patel smiled like a little boy. ‘We have worked well together haven’t we?’

  ‘Yes we have,’ she said, intrigued. What is he up to?

  ‘You know, things have been hectic perhaps we are being a bit hasty, closing down this operation so fast.’

  Azizza puzzled. ‘You said it was getting dangerous?’

  ‘Yes, it seemed that way with those police and other things, but in reality it’s gone quite smoothly. It’s quite possible that we only need to take a break for a while to get a bigger picture.’

  ‘A break, what do you mean?’

  ‘As you know I’m planning to go down to Mombasa. While I was filling the car, I realised that once I had left, I would not see you again, and it felt all wrong.’ He put his hand on her arm. ‘I have got so used to working with you.’

  Azizza moved away, confused and excited. ‘You’re not making sense, what do you mean by a break?’ She repeated.

  ‘I don’t know,’ his voice faltered. ‘Why don’t you come to Mombasa for a few days, we can leave this,’ he waved his arms around. He stopped talking and sighed blinking rapidly and then took a deep breath. ‘Listen, I’m sorry, of course we can’t continue. I don’t know what came over me.’

  Azizza quickly took up the slack. ‘You think if we went away for a few days, we could see what happens and if all goes well we could just keep submitting more loan application. Is that what you’re trying to say?’

  ‘Yes,’ he nodded eagerly, ‘I mean Nicholls is out of the way, and I have got Fimbo in my pocket, why pack it in now, just when everything is working so well?’

  Azizza asked. ‘So where would we go?’

  ‘Anywhere we like. We could go to Dar-es-Salaam, or even Madagascar and visit your relatives,’ he enthused.

  ‘What about the loan applications, and the daily interest?’

  ‘Oh don’t worry about that. I can call Evans and explain the delay, so he can cover the interest payments until we get back.’

  ‘You think he would agree?’

  ‘If he doesn’t, the scheme will come crashing down around him.’

  ‘That’s what worries me. Can we trust him?’

  ‘Maybe not, but we will be miles away if he screws up. Come on my dear, don’t you think this is a great idea?’

  ‘Are you serious about going to Madagascar?’ She inserted a roadblock. ‘I thought you wanted to be with your wife and kids.’

  He waved himself through. ‘I’m working my dear and if I can make more money, then I will be even more welcomed home. And yes, I have always wanted to go to Madagascar.’

  Azizza poured herself another cup of tea, her hand trembling in excitement. ‘You know you’re right as usual. We have nothing to fear, it does seem silly to wind this up now. A break is a good idea, but what about the cops who were looking for you?’

  ‘Ah those clowns can’t tell one muhindi from another, besides, as I say, I have Fimbo nicely sewn up.’

  ‘Ok, so if we go, when do you want to leave?’

  ‘Now today, as soon as possible.’

  ‘Today! I haven’t packed anything.’

  ‘Ahh you don’t need much, besides, you’re a rich woman you can buy new clothes. Take my Landcruiser and get your things. I will tidy up here,’ he jangled the car keys at her.

  Azizza took them, excited. ‘It’s a brilliant idea I won’t be long,’ and she hurried out the door.

  Patel sat down, a smile of satisfaction as he heard the car leave. Looking around the office, he went and emptied the floor safe. Judging the wad of money with a practiced eye, it would certainly come in useful if there were any last minute hitches. He wistfully fingered the last of the un-submitted land titles before putting them in a wastebasket.

  He then pulled down the charts on the wall, tearing at them ineptly, finally scrunching them into a ball, and stuffing it on top of the certificates. Next he undid the back of the computer and yanked out the hard drive. He threw it on the floor and then jumped on the soft metal case. Flicking open drawers, he removed any pieces of paper that had details on them of the operation. He was aware that he could not clear all the evidence in the amount of time left, but at least he could make it harder for any investigators. He made a call as he walked around, and booked two rooms at the Royal Hotel in Mombasa. ‘Yes and I don’t want them adjoining. Do you have one on the first floor and one on the fourth? Yes, that will be perfect.’

  When Azizza returned she found him in the car park, tending a small fire. ‘What are you burning?’ She asked frowning.

  ‘Just the most obvious stuff,’ he said.

  ‘What obvious stuff?’

  ‘The charts, we can always make new ones. It’s just in case someone comes here while we are away - you know if Evans screws up - no point in giving away the whole scheme.’

  ‘Is there something you’re not telling me?’ She challenged.

  Patel looked astonished. ‘No my dear of course not, I’m just being cautious. Are you ready? I have booked the hotel. I think we should leave, I don’t like being on that Mombasa road in the dark.’

  She made to go into the house. He stopped her. ‘It’s locked.’

  ‘The money in the safe?’ Turning to him suspiciously.

  ‘In with my bags, there on the step,’ he pointed and added a final stick to the fire. He collected his bags and walked to the car.

  Azizza got in beside him. ‘What about the other one?’ She pointed at the Tanzanian registered vehicle.

  ‘My driver will collect it tomorrow and drive to Mombasa with Inspector Fimbo.’

  ‘Fimbo, what’s going on with him?’

  ‘I told you, he is in my pocket, besides he has my passport.’

  ‘Your passport?’ She asked incredulous.

  ‘Yes, don’t worry my dear it’s all under control.’

  For one awful moment she wondered if Fimbo’s arrival in Mombasa would coincide with another mysterious disappearance - hers. She shivered and then dismissed the thought. Be
sides, she still had control of the money, that was her insurance and she allowed herself a little smile. ‘Are you sure you haven’t overlooked anything?’

  ‘Come on I feel like I need a holiday,’ he smiled at her, gunning the large four by four down the drive, a last word with the gate keeper, and they turned onto the main road, heading away without a backward glance.

  Azizza surreptitiously studied him as he drove. After the misery she had been feeling at their imminent separation, she could hardly believe she was leaving Malindi with him and hardly dared to think about the circumstances; lest she break the delicious spell.

  As they crossed a bridge half way through the journey, Patel asked ‘What’s going on in that clever little mind of yours?’

  ‘I was thinking about going to Madagascar with you.’

  ‘Ha! On holiday already. I was thinking what Evans will do when he finds out we have gone.’

  ‘I thought you said we were only taking a break?’

  ‘Yes, that’s true, but you know me I like to look at all the angles.’

  ‘Ok, so tell me what happened with Fimbo?’ She slanted in, watching him.

  ‘Oh that? Some idiot cops in Nairobi wanted to ask questions.’

  ‘Yes?’ She waited.

  ‘It was nothing to do with Golden Palm, more like the tax people wanting their cut of my factory sale. I spoke to Farook about it and he smoothed things over in Nairobi, but you know how Fimbo is, he could smell an opportunity, so I agreed to give him a present in Mombasa and he held onto my passport as insurance. Anyhow let’s think forward now not backwards.’ He turned and gave her a sly look. ‘Tell me, what you are going to do with your money,’

  She chuckled, and shook her head. ‘Maybe in Madagascar I will reveal all, until then, don’t ask.’

  They reached Mombasa just before dark. Patel drove through town to the Royal Hotel and parked round the back.

  He turned to Azizza, as they walked to the reception. ‘I have booked you a room. I think you are on the fourth floor.’

  Her step momentarily faltered. ‘Yes I would hope so,’ her voice a little loud. ‘And where is your room?’