At Gatwick airport, he passed through customs and immigration without a hitch and made his way out to a sea of expectant faces, none of which, thankfully he recognised. He took a taxi into the heart of London to an up-market hotel. Enjoying the deference accorded him with his newfound wealth.
He then went shopping and bought new clothes, walking around the wealthy district with his designer carrier bags. In the afternoon, he went in search of a barber. He picked up a free newspaper on real estate and read it avidly during his haircut and just for good measure had his nails manicured. That evening he called his wife in Birmingham and spoke to his boys, assuring the excited children that he would see them just as soon as he could.
*
Azizza relaxed in the back of the taxi as it headed for Malindi and went over last night’s events in her mind, trying to recall the pleasure, but details evaded her so she made them up as she daydreamed. Inevitably, her thoughts returned to Patel. You had to hand it to him he is a clever bugger.
Scrolling through her phone she decided to call Evans, maybe he knew more about Fimbo’s arrest, though she doubted that Patel would have told him. The phone was off. Frustrated she rang the teller at her bank; she wanted to talk to someone. ‘Morning can you give me the exact balance in my account?
‘No, not that one. The Golden Palm one.’
‘Yes,’ she waited.
The teller came back on. ‘I’m sorry madam did you change the password? I can’t seem to access the account.’
‘No, I have not changed my password, try again.’
‘Madam, the password is not working, it has definitely been changed, if I try again and fail, the account will lock up.’
‘This is ridiculous; there must be a way around it. Has anyone else accessed the account?’ A feeling of dread in her stomach.
‘No madam.’
‘Are you sure Riaz?’
‘Madam, I’m the only one authorised, other than the manager.’
‘You must be able to change the password?’
‘It can be done madam but, only the manager can do it.’
‘Oh, alright Riaz. So, get the manager to do that.’
‘I think you will have to ask him yourself, madam.’
‘Listen to me,’ she said, ‘I’m in a taxi right now and I’m miles from Malindi. You tell the manager to call me at once, otherwise I will be thinking about changing my bank.’ She rang off. ‘Idiots.’
Azizza waited for the call getting wound up as the time passed and thinking about how she was going to tear a strip off him. There was no call, now really angry, she rang again. The teller was apologetic. ‘I’m sorry madam, he was in a meeting I will patch you through.’ She listened to classical music, and waited. The manager came on. Azizza explained what had happened and that she was very unhappy.
‘Yes madam,’ he soothed. ‘I understand, let me find out exactly what the problem is and I will call you back.’
Ten minutes later. ‘Madam, according to our records, apart from a hundred thousand, you emptied the account yesterday.’
Azizza’s mouth fell open, ‘NO! There must be a mistake! I asked the bank to transfer money to an account in Mombasa, but the account still had about four hundred million in it. You remember?’
‘Yes Madam that is correct, but there was another transfer after that and the account was emptied.’
‘What! Where to? Who authorised it?’
‘Let me check.’
Azizza waited, her head reeling, the taxi driver watching her in his mirror, all ears.
‘I’m sorry Madam, I can’t trace where it went, but the account is empty apart from the hundred thousand.’
‘There must be an error.’ Azizza said controlling her voice.
‘Hold on,’ he said. She held the phone pressed up against her ear, cutting out the road noise, her heart beat rapid, she could hear talking in the background and rustling of papers. ‘Madam I’m sorry, we have another complication to do with the Golden Palm.’
‘What do you mean complication?’
‘I have just had a request, e-mailed through from the ministry of security, to seize this account.’
‘What! How can that be?’
‘I’m sorry it’s signed by the minister himself, there is nothing I can do.’ Azizza hung up in shock. She started to retch in fear and shouted at the taxi driver to stop. He pulled over quickly; she opened the door and ran out, throwing up her breakfast in some bushes by the side of the road.
The driver watched her and then reached over the back seat his hand in her purse, he found a wad of notes and fingered out a couple and quickly stuffed them in his pocket. He got out of the car and called out to her. ‘Are you ok?’
Azizza held her hand up, to let her be, as she continued to dry retch. Other traffic slowed as it passed them, heads rubbernecking from matatus. With no tissue she used the hem of her dress to wipe her mouth. The taxi driver walked over with a bottle of water, she turned and gratefully took the bottle, sipping rapidly, her eyes streaming from the coughing fit.
‘Something you ate, a bad breakfast?’ He asked.
‘Yes,’ she nodded, ‘a very bad breakfast.’ She took some deep breaths to calm herself. They got back in the taxi. Azizza searched her handbag for a tissue, the driver watching.
She glanced up. ‘Drive,’ looking crossly at him. Her mind working feverishly, the account seized! How could the minister now be involved, was this just another set up by Patel? Only a hundred thousand left? Something does not ring true.
She rang her teller. ‘Riaz, it’s me, Azizza.’
‘Yes,’ a cautious reply, there was no madam this time.
‘Riaz, the manager has told me what happened to the Golden Palm account, but what about my personal account, the one with the two million shillings?’
She could hear a keyboard. ‘That account is still current.’
Azizza let her breath out. ‘Now the Golden Palm account has been seized by who?’
‘Yes the account has been seized by the government,’ the teller told her, anxious to get off the phone.
‘Ok, but can you find out for me who ordered the seizure?’
‘Omollo, the minister of security,’ about to put the phone down.
‘Yes, but who else, who recommended it?’
‘I don’t like these questions, you should ask the manager.’
‘Wait please, the order for the seizure there must be another name, I know how these things work, that’s all I ask of you.’
There was silence. ‘Please Riaz, I’m not a stranger, help me.’
‘It was Njenga, the manager at the NNB branch in Nairobi.’
‘You have no idea where the rest of the money went?’
‘No, I have to go, I don’t want to lose my job.’
‘Thank you,’ Azizza hung up. That bloody Evans must have done something really stupid! Unless this was a set up by Patel. He’s done a deal with the manager and taken my money! She tried Evan’s number, same result, phone switched off.
Frustrated she then tried his secretary. ‘Yes hello. Florence? Listen, I’m trying to get hold of your boss and his mobile is switched off. The police! When? Oh my God, and you haven’t heard from him?’ Azizza abruptly hung up her mind reeling from repeated shocks. This was Patels’ doing. He - bastard had stolen her money, she didn’t know how, but it couldn’t have been anyone else.
Azizza had a cold knot of fear in her stomach turning to hatred, as the reality of his treachery set in. All those questions over what she was going to do with her half, she now saw his sardonic grin, he had planned all of this - had set her up from the very start.
With Evans arrested the cops would now be looking for her. Fimbo was out of the way, Mugo would be left in charge at the police station, she could talk to him, they could work out a deal. A light at the end of the tunnel. Even the two million in her personal account, could be explained as a legitimate savings. All the banking she had done was just part of her job. Even if Evans
said otherwise and fingered her, there was no proof.
‘You bastard,’ she said with feeling, thinking of Patel, ‘I’m going to get you.’ The taxi was now approaching Malindi. ‘Take me to the police station,’ she instructed the taxi driver.
He looked at her frowning in his mirror. ‘The police?’
‘Don’t worry, I will show you the way,’ her reflection was not friendly. As they entered the town the driver pulled over and stopped. ‘I want to go to the police,’ Azizza said angrily.
‘I’m not going, you pay me and go,’ he told her rudely.
She glowered at him defiantly. ‘And if I refuse?’
The driver cursed, got out and yanked her door open. ‘My money,’ he shouted at her.
People stopped to watch, a crowd gathered. She got out, counted out the notes and threw them at him. He picked up the money slammed the door and drove off.
A passing tuk-tuk had stopped, she climbed in. Changing her mind she gave him the address of the CNB bank. She withdrew the two million shillings from her personal account. Back in the tuk-tuk she told the driver to take her to the police station. An hour later Azizza left on foot, a little less angry now that she had temporarily cleared her name and implicated Patel. Mugo - for a reasonable amount of cash - had written down her statement in detail and then let her go. ‘Don’t leave town,’ he warned. Now, it was about her sole survival. She made a decision, and waved down a tuk-tuk. At home she had a shower and changed out of her western dress into a traditional Muslim bui-bui and packed a small suitcase. She went to the bus station and bought a ticket to Dar-es-Salaam. It would arrive late at night, but she didn’t care. An hour later, as she was about to board a dishevelled old man called out to her.
‘Madam Azizza?’ She looked up fearfully, her way on to the bus prevented by other boarding passengers. The man got to her before she could get to the steps. ‘Madam Azizza, you remember me?’ She recognized the askari from the house. ‘Where is Patel? Something terrible has happened.’
Azizza stepped away from the bus entrance trying to defer other’s idle curiosity. ‘What do you want,’ she hissed at him.
The askari said. ‘You don’t know what happened?’
‘No, what are you talking about?’ she said in a low voice, looking about her nervously.
‘When you left that day with Patel, a man came to collect his other car and I was just shutting the gate when a big lorry drove up full of men. I tried to stop them, but they came in and took everything out of the house, they said that Patel had sold the house and that I should leave immediately. I wanted to call the police but they got very rough with me and threw me out. Today they started to knock the house down and I have no money and nowhere to live.I lived there for forty years. I have no family, I am all alone.’
Azizza reached into her purse, took out a five hundred shilling note and handed it to him.
He took it and looked at her aghast. ‘What can I do with this?’ he demanded.
She took it back. ‘Ok, you don’t want it, it’s not my problem,’ and walked towards the bus.
He said. ‘Ok, I’ll take it,’ he snatched the money back, turned away from her wordlessly and shuffled off. Azizza took her seat on the bus.
THIRTY-NINE
Firdus found Doug and Gem having a late breakfast in the dining room, sunlight streamed in from open doorways leading to an inner garden courtyard, weavers and sunbirds flitting about, making nests and feeding on flowers. Doug and Gem were laughing together, eyes-a-sparkle in love. ‘Hello you two lovebirds,’ greeted Firdus, as he walked over.
Gem spontaneously got up and hugged him. ‘Thank you so much for bringing my man back to me. You should have seen his face!’
Firdus held her easily around the waist as they both looked at Doug. ‘I hope he appreciates you. I can’t for the life of me think what an angel like you sees in him.’
Gem laughed delightedly. ‘He has me under a spell Uncle.’
Firdus joined them at the table. Doug looked better, contented and smiling easily. ‘Can I borrow your man for a while? I have to talk shop to him for a bit.’
‘Yes, I have finished my breakfast.’ Getting up she put her hand on Doug’s shoulder. ‘See you back in the room.’
‘By the way Gem,’ Firdus said, ‘at some point you will have to come and talk to Katana, he just needs your version of the story to tie up the loose ends.’
‘Ok,’ she gave a little skip as she walked off.
Doug watched her, a smile on his face as Firdus watched him. ‘She is a good one, I wouldn’t be looking anywhere else.’
‘I’m not,’ Doug said with a big grin.
Firdus put his fingers together, elbows on the table. ‘Now down to business. Can you tell me what happened after I left you in Malindi? I need to know all the facts.’ Doug gave a full account as Firdus listened prompting him now and then.
‘Tell me again what happened in Mtito Andae?’
He relayed the story.
‘Do you think Brian was really sick, or had he set this up to get rid of the girl?’
Doug was shocked. ‘No his distress seemed genuine. I think he intended to keep her with him. What will happen now?’
Firdus sat looking at birds in the garden. ‘My main concern was your safety, it’s the only reason I got involved in this mess at all. Now that we can clear your name, I’m going to wind up my conclusions for the minister, it’s up to him on how to proceed and hopefully he will release me so I can get back to my ranch.’
‘Yes,’ agreed Doug, ‘I need to find out what that lazy mechanic of mine has been doing in my absence. Thank you for everything.’
‘You’re welcome. Why don’t you and Gem come down and spend time with me on the ranch.’
‘Yes we will, anyhow I have to collect my bike.’
‘Oh I thought you were leaving that with me as a gift.’
Doug laughed at the idea. Firdus got up and ruffled Doug’s hair affectionately. ‘You forget I used to race those things in Nakuru.’
‘Yeah, yeah,’ grinned Doug, ‘I know. When do you want me to see the detective again?’
‘No need, I’ve got the story. Just tell Gem to come and give her statement and then you’re free to go.’
Firdus walked into the conference room. Katana was sitting looking puzzled. ‘I’ve just got off the phone with Njenga from NNB bank. Omollo called him this morning and authorised him to seize The Golden Palm account at CNB Malindi, he also told him that Evans was a prime suspect and had been arrested.’
Firdus raised his eyebrows. ‘So why did Njenga call you?’
‘Omollo told him we were heading up the investigation, Njenga wants to talk very badly to Evans. But sir, why would the minister go ahead without consulting us first?’
‘That’s a good question detective, and maybe there will be an answer later, but let’s stick to the task in hand. I presume Patel and Azizza have flown the coup?’
‘No there’s more,’ said Katana wearily. ‘Azizza handed herself into the Malindi police station this morning and made a statement.
Mugo e-mailed it to me,’ he slid the printed copy over.
Firdus read it. ‘Azizza’s been arrested?’
‘No, Mugo let her go.’
Firdus sucked in his breath. ‘So according to this, Patel has escaped to Dar-es-Salaam, posing as N.J Shah?’
‘Yes and no. Azizza claimed Patel had gone to Dar but Mugo found an alias, a passport of N.J. Shah in Fimbo’s office.
‘Bloody idiot, get him to arrest Azizza immediately.’
‘I tried that sir. Mugo now says he can’t find her.’
‘That’s convenient,’ muttered Firdus. He wrote quickly on a legal pad and signed his letter with a flourish. ‘Can you copy this and e-mail it immediately.’ Katana read it, eyes wide and then scanned the document.
‘Njenga also wants Nicholls to come to the bank to help them trace the missing money.’
‘Probably the right man for the job.’
‘Check with the airlines, international and local and the border post for any sign of him, and get hold of your counterpart in Dar to see if they can find Patel’s Tanzanian landcruiser. Azizza may have been lying about his escape route. When does Nicholls get here?’
Katana glanced at his watch. He should be here now.’
‘Good this is going to be interesting, watch and learn detective,’ Firdus said grimly. A clean-shaven Brian Nicholls put his head round the door. ‘Come in Brian.’ Firdus called.
He walked into the room, confident, and dressed in a suit and tie. Firdus waved him to a chair. ‘How are you this morning, would you like some coffee?’
Brian smiled at Katana and met Firdus’s eye. ‘Yes I would.’
‘Did you manage to see a Doctor?’
‘Yes. There was a clinic at my local shopping centre, he has put me on antibiotics,’ Brian said simply.
‘Good, good that should do the trick.’
They waited for the coffee to arrive. Katana still on the phone and Firdus, sitting on the edge of the table went back to reading his file. Katana rang off and shook his head at Firdus. ‘Ok, try the flights out of Nairobi last night.’
Firdus went back to his reading.
Brian cleared his throat. ‘Firdus you wanted to see me?’
He looked up and nodded in Katana’s direction. Brian’s foot began tap the floor quietly. He shifted uneasily in his seat.
‘Negative sir, there is no record of any Patel flying out of Nairobi,’ Katana said.
‘Ok, that’s not conclusive though, they might have not bothered to look,’ Firdus closed the file, crossed his arms and looked directly at Brian. ‘Can you tell us what happened in Malindi, after you left my ranch?’
Speaking clearly, in a carefully thought out speech, he told them what had happened. Firdus and Katana listened without interrupting. ‘Pity about Lucy,’ said Firdus, ‘though I quite understand. Do you think she will have gone back to Malindi?’
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