Elephant Dropping (9781301895199)

by Trzebinski, Bruce

  Brian shook his head staring at her. She sat down and shut the file, a small photo of him was pinned on the corner of the cover - she studied his face for a moment. John settled in a chair just behind him.

  ‘John has explained to you why you are here?’ She asked pleasantly.

  ‘Something to do with the Foreign Office?’

  ‘Yes that’s right. Your sister has made quite a fuss about your alleged disappearance and we are asked to verify that you are alive and well. Would you care to fill us in on the missing details.’

  Brian found himself, for the second time that morning, wearily describing what had happened to him, although this time he left out all the details of the bank, Lucy and Evans.

  The Ambassador listened, professional concern on her face.

  ‘I see and these thugs that were after you, you say were Kenyan policemen?’

  ‘Yes they were, at least that is what I have been told by Firdus.’

  ‘I’m sorry who is Firdus?’

  Brian was surprised at the question. ‘He is Doug’s uncle. We hid out on his farm and later he flew to Nairobi to make arrangements for us to be rescued.’

  John Sandifer interjected. ‘Mr Fernandez Ma’am.’

  ‘Ah yes, go on,’ she urged Brian pleasantly.

  ‘Here I am alive and kicking as you can see.’

  ‘Yes and a very good thing that is,’ agreed the envoy. ‘Now our other concerns are the security issues in this county. Did you ever have the chance to meet the head of the anti-terrorism unit, a Mr Rubia?’

  Brian shook his head. ‘No.’

  ‘Unfortunately the poor man is dead, a heart attack apparently, but we have reason to believe that the police officers who were trying to do away with you were from his unit. You’re not engaging in any terrorist activities are you Mr Nicholls?’

  Brian started. ‘What? No, of course not.’

  ‘It’s alright Brian,’ she smiled, ‘we have to ask these questions. So why do you think these people were after you, could it be anything to do with your job?’

  ‘I have no idea, maybe it’s a mistaken identity,’ he said helpfully.

  ‘Yes they thought you were Bolton could that be it?’ She responded as helpfully, with steel in her gaze.

  Brian’s blood ran cold. ‘That was a long time ago.’

  ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘turning over a new leaf are we Nicholls, or would that be a tea leaf?’

  ‘Listen, you asked me here because I had been reported missing,’ Brian said colouring up. ‘I have had policemen in this county trying to kill me; surely you should be questioning whoever is in charge, instead of dragging up my past.’

  ‘Yes,’ she agreed pleasantly, ‘and you have had quite an ordeal. We are most concerned when the anti-terrorism unit of our host country pursues one of our nationals. But, before I take this matter up officially with the Minister I need to be sure of my footing and that is why you are here Mr. Nicholls. I need to be assured, that you have not been engaging in any activities that could later prove to be an embarrassment to us, or her Majesty’s government, you understand?’

  Brian took a deep breath. ‘I understand your concern. Listen, I came out to Kenya to start a new life. I was enjoying my job I have nothing to hide and I have no idea why these horrible people were hunting me. I would like to put the whole thing behind me.’

  ‘Yes we would very much like that too, Mr. Nicholls. But forgive us if we are a little puzzled as to why you had to have this awful experience.’

  Brian shook his head. ‘No idea.’

  ‘Not the teeniest idea, even remote? Nothing to do with a girl, is it? Been arousing jealousy perhaps?’

  ‘No nothing like that.’

  Marjory stared at him. ‘I think you’re lying through your teeth,’ she said conversationally, ‘but I’m not here to prove or disprove your story. I will make my protests heard to Minister as is my diplomatic right and there the matter rests, but I would advise you to tread a careful line from now on.’

  Brian said nothing.

  ‘That concludes our interview, you may go.’ She dismissed him. Opening his file and making notes.

  Brian remained seated. ‘What about my passport?’

  She looked up without interest. ‘Your passport?’

  ‘The Kenyan Minister of Security has my passport, and I’m due to fly to England today to do with my job at the bank.’

  ‘Why does the Minister have your passport?’

  ‘It was taken from my briefcase when my car was recovered, when I went missing.’

  ‘So, can I suggest you ask him for it?’

  ‘Can you not help?’

  ‘Don’t try my patience Nicholls. If the truth be known, I have helped you enough. If you have lost your passport through your own misadventures and don’t recover it, you can apply for a new one using the correct channels of my good office. Now if you don’t mind I’m very busy.’ She looked beyond him to Sandifer, a nod of her head.

  Sandifer put a hand on Brian’s shoulder. He shrugged it off angrily. ‘I have to fly tonight it’s urgent, can you give me travel papers at least?’ Sandifer opened the door and stood beside it expectantly.

  ‘I have already given you my answer, now would you be so good as to leave my office.’ Her blue eyes bored into his. ‘I’m sure you don’t want to be frog marched out of here.’

  Brian got up and opened his mouth to say something. Her eyes narrowed dangerously. He pursed his lips, turned his back on her and followed Sandifer out.

  At his flat he picked up the phone and booked a ticket on British Airways to London. It had been quite a morning; on top of everything else the pills were now making him feel nauseous. He decided to go through the motions and packed his suitcase anyway. He had just finished when the phone rang; it was Njenga. ‘Brian I have good news. I have spoken to the Minister and he has agreed to release your passport, it’s being sent here to the bank. It should be here by four.’ Brian sat on the edge of his bed and then lay back on it with relief, thank God he was now getting out of here.

  He needed to move that money as soon as possible. Even if the police picked up Antonio’s computer, it would take a skilled technician to uncover the deeply embedded information in the hard drive. Once he was out of the country he was going to disappear to go somewhere warm he mused, Spain or even Australia.

  FORTY-ONE

  Firdus started typing out his report for the minister on a computer keyboard. He checked a few facts with Katana and made adjustments, typing slowly with one finger. ‘Are you any good at this?’ he asked, pointing at the keyboard.

  Katana grinned. ‘No faster than you.’

  Firdus laboured on doggedly. He reached the end and read over his report. Satisfied, he printed out three copies, one for the detective another for his files and the third he sealed in an envelope. He handed this to the detective and told him to give it to the driver. ‘He must deliver it to the Minister himself,’ Firdus instructed.

  When the detective returned Firdus looked up and smiled.

  ‘So what happens now sir?’ Katana asked.

  Firdus got up and walked over to the sideboard, poured himself a glass of water and sat down. ‘Detective, as you can see from my report I have recommended that you continue with the case and pursue these criminals. I’m sure once the Minister has read his copy, he will back you up with whatever resources you need. For example, starting with a trip to Malindi to interview Azizza, or Lucy, you can have them picked up and brought here, or you can go direct to Dar-es-Salaam and chase up the lead on Patel.’

  Katana looked puzzled. ‘But what about you sir, what are you going to do?’

  ‘Hopefully after I have seen the Minister, I’m going back to my ranch,’ he said gently, aware of Katana’s concern. ‘I have seen the way you work detective and I have no doubt that you are more than capable; besides, this is a wonderful opportunity to get promoted. With Rubia gone there is a vacuum, until Omollo appoints someone new. As I explained to you befo
re, I only came in on this to help my nephew out of a very sticky situation. With your help I have achieved that and I want to take this opportunity to thank you detective it has been a pleasure working with you.’

  ‘I’m not sure about this sir. Won’t you wait until we catch Patel?’

  Firdus smiled. ‘Catch Patel? I doubt very much that you will pin down that tricky bugger. I have had more than my fair share of Patels in the past. Professional criminals like him thrive on whatever systems are put in place. They always manage to find and exploit the loopholes and with corruption on the rise it’s getting easier for them to do so. Every day you read about teachers in schools getting caught with their hands in the till. What kind of example are they setting to the children under their care?

  I could go on and on about it, but what can we do when a former headmaster comes into power by default and he and his dearest loot the country with impunity. Who could blame someone - poorly educated like Evans - for using his place of work in an attempt to do the same? As the saying goes, the fish always rots from the head, and I’m tired of the smell.’

  Katana grimaced. ‘You make it all sound so hopeless sir.’

  ‘Ah detective don’t take the words of a cynical old man like me to heart,’ he put his hand on Katana’s shoulder. ‘There’s always hope, I’m just tired and jaded.’

  ‘I don’t think I can do this on my own Sir.’

  ‘Of course you can. Listen, you can always consult me, unofficially that is.’

  ‘Will you not reconsider your position sir?’

  ‘I’m sorry, the truth is I’m not up to it anymore, but I have hopes for you detective, let’s not get maudlin about it.

  Katana seemed to rally to the challenge. ‘I thought I would chase up the information on Patel’s car in Dar-es-Salaam.’

  ‘Good idea,’ agreed Firdus, standing up and walking towards the door. ‘I‘m going to get lunch and then have a lie down before I go to Rubia’s funeral. I will see you this evening detective.’

  *

  Firdus arrived at the cemetery once the ceremony had started. He reasoned that he would not see Omollo until after the burial and hung about near the cars and waited. The funeral was well attended, with most ministries sending their secretaries to represent them, as did the envoys, though he was surprised to see the British Ambassador there. The Minister, Omollo, was giving a speech at the gravesite, Firdus could hear the occasional word - ‘a brave son of Kenya,’ - and similar statements. The congregation bowed their heads as a priest read out the final prayers, and the crowd began to filter back towards their cars.

  As the funeral ended, Marjory Banister made sure she was standing at Omollo’s elbow. They exchanged the usual diplomatic banalities as they walked away.

  ‘I wonder if I could have a word in your ear?’ Marjory asked.

  ‘Yes of course,’ said the Minister pleasantly as a light drizzle began to fall. The ever-attendant Sandifer snapped open an umbrella to shield her. Marjory took the brolly and invited the minister to join her as she stepped away from John leaving him standing in the rain; he followed dutifully a few paces behind.

  ‘That was a fine speech you made,’ she began.

  ‘Thank you, he was a fine man,’ agreed Omollo.

  ‘A pity most of it wasn’t true.’

  Omollo stopped.

  ‘Fine he may have once been, but our sources say different,’ she went on evenly.

  ‘Ah yes, your sources,’ agreed Omollo with a wry smile, ‘the ever-present post colonial guiding hand.’

  ‘No not colonial Minister, it is our duty to protect our nationals on foreign soil.’

  ‘Yes, Mr. Nicholls has been found, none the worse for his encounter,’ he smiled at her.

  ‘Yes we are much relieved. Apparently you are still holding onto his passport, would you care to explain why?’

  ‘You are mistaken. My ministry handed over his passport over this afternoon. It seems your sources are not so well informed,’ it began to rain a little harder forcing the two closer together.

  Sandifer walked a few paces behind now getting very wet, she turned to him. ‘It’s alright John, wait in the car,’ she instructed dismissing him.

  Omollo’s assistant arrived with a garden sized multi-coloured parasol. The Minister took it from him, it over lapped hers, but now they each had their own territory. ‘Her Majesty’s government is now obviously very concerned over who you will now appoint to head the anti-terrorism unit.’

  ‘That is a matter for my Ministry and you will be informed when we have a replacement for the unfortunate Rubia.’

  ‘Rubia’s activities were of some concern to us, especially when it seems he was running an extra judicial hit squad.’

  Omollo towered over her. ‘I thought it was bad luck to talk ill of the dead.’

  ‘It seems Rubia’s luck ran out at Pathway House.’

  Omollo waved his hand impatiently. ‘This is neither the time nor the place to discuss matters of national security, do you need to be reminded that as an independent nation we may employ different methods from yours?’ he warned her.

  Unfazed she went on. ‘Yes that difference has us very concerned about Nicholls, principally about his safety. It would be most unfortunate if anything else were to happen to him.’

  Omollo leaned out from under his cover, forcing his face closer to the ambassador’s, his shoulders in the rain.

  ‘Different or not, the Kenya government takes a very dim view of foreign nationals who exploit poor and underprivileged girls. At this moment we are seriously considering either issuing a deportation order or an arrest warrant on your beloved Mr. Nicholls.’ He moved back under his parasol, point made.

  Marjory taken aback; her foot slipped in the mud and she steadied herself looking down. ‘What evidence do you have of this?’

  ‘We have enough and also suspect that he has hoodwinked his boss and stolen a large amount of money as he has a previous criminal record. Something you are no doubt aware of?’

  ‘If this is true then why give him back his passport? If you have evidence of criminal intent then you need to prosecute him.’

  ‘And have you breathing down our necks with your high handed perception of our lack of human rights?’ He laughed pleasantly.

  ‘We can always co-operate. I can send a team from Scotland Yard if you’re worried, to monitor his arrest.’

  ‘I have a better idea,’ said the minister seizing his opportunity, ‘as you have little or no faith in our judicial system, I would suggest that you have Nicholls picked up once he is on home soil, we can then discuss how to best to prosecute him.’

  ‘We can’t do that without any evidence. Suspicion alone in our country is not enough. Surely it would be better to let our team conduct their investigations, they could help with other unresolved issues, co-operating with yours of course.’ It had stopped raining; she folded and shook her umbrella, looking about her brightly.

  The Minister handed his parasol over to his assistant who stepped forward a few paces and took it. Omollo gave her a big smile. ‘Could you imagine me suggesting I send a team to overlook your judicial system, your arrogance astounds me, now if you don’t mind Ma’am, I have lots of work to do.’

  She smiled graciously in return. ‘Thank you for your valuable time, do let us know how we can be of any help.’

  Omollo chuckled as he walked with her to her car, pointing at the wet union jack hanging limply from the front fender.

  The car drove off. Marjory turned to Sandifer, indicating with her hand that she wanted to talk to him. He pressed a button and a glass panel slid up between them and the driver.

  ‘Bloody man,’ she said.

  ‘What did you talk about?’

  ‘Nicholls, they suspect that he has stolen some money.’

  ‘Really? Are they going to arrest him?’

  ‘No they want us to do that. Apart from the money, he has been indulging himself in the African flesh pots, and they are threatening t
o make an issue of it.’

  ‘Flesh pots in Kenya, that’s not hard to do,’ Sandifer smiled, not reading her mood.

  She glared at him. ‘Nevertheless it can be made into an issue, but what can one do when you men think with your pricks.’ Sandifer shifted uncomfortably. ‘When we get back to the Embassy organise a watch on Nicholls, he has his passport and is flying home tonight.’

  ‘Yes Ma’am. Which flight is he on?’

  ‘He is flying to London I already told you. Do I have to do all your thinking for you?’

  ‘You’re going to have him arrested?’

  ‘Certainly not, I won’t be dictated to by some jumped up third world bully. Make sure Nicholls catches that flight and someone confirms his arrival in London.’

  ‘Yes Ma’am thank you,’ said Sandifer not quite understanding, but not daring to ask any more questions.

  *

  Firdus waited for his moment. He watched the exchange with the British envoy and intercepted the Minister walking to his car. ‘Sir?’

  ‘Ah Fernandez good: that was an excellent report you wrote.’

  ‘Thank you sir.’ They shook hands.

  ‘Still no news on Patel?’

  ‘No sir, not yet.’

  ‘Nicholls has been taken care of.’ He jutted his chin at the departing Ambassador’s car.

  ‘Very good sir, I know that Katana will be pleased.’

  ‘Katana, ah yes your second in command. A good man?’

  ‘Yes, the best sir,’ agreed Firdus.

  The Minister hesitated. ‘Are you sure you won’t reconsider, and stay on the case.’

  Firdus shook his head. ‘I want to get back to my ranch.’

  ‘I could force you, you know,’ the Minister smiled.

  ‘Yes you could, but an unwilling dog is a lazy dog.’ Firdus said returning his smile.

  ‘You’re right there, but would it be alright if I consult you from time to time? I have welcomed your help so far.’

  ‘Yes of course sir.’

  ‘Excellent work Fernandez. How do I contact you?’

  ‘Best way is though Katana,’ Firdus answered.

  Omollo held out his hand, they shook again. The Minister held onto his hand. ‘Thank you Fernandez, one day I might come down to your ranch and visit you.’