‘You are welcome sir,’ said Firdus.
*
Firdus waited for the minister’s entourage to leave and then walked over to the gravesite. He stood for a moment and watched the attendants fill in the hole. He then went back to his car and gave the driver instructions on how to get to his nephew’s garage. At the garage he dismissed the driver.
He walked over to where Doug was working on his back under a saloon car and heard him say. ‘Pass me a number seven you lazy bastard, ring spanner, you know one with a hole in it.’
Musa, Doug’s attendant looked up from where he was kneeling beside the car and smiled. Firdus held his finger up to his lips and replied in an African accent. ‘Fuki you, get it yourself.’
Doug scrambled out from under the car. ‘What the hell did you say to me?’ He yelled. ‘Oh it’s you!’ He grinned at his uncle, Musa laughed, Doug glared at him. ‘Now look what you have done, interfering with my staff as usual.’
Firdus smiled and cuffed his nephew on the head. ‘With your attitude you’re lucky you have any staff at all.’
‘Ahh, me and Musa, we go way back, don’t we?’
Musa grinned. ‘Fuki you,’ and walked away laughing.
Doug smiled. ‘Thanks uncle.’
‘I want you to keep up a communication with Katana.’
‘Why?’
‘So you can be there when they bury the man you shot.’
His shoulders slumped. ‘You’re right,’ he sighed.
‘Good,’ nodded Firdus in approval. ‘Come down and stay a few days with me if you like, bring Gem.’
‘Yes, thank you, I need to collect my bike anyway. Thank you for all that you have done Uncle.’
‘You’re welcome,’ said Firdus. ‘Now I must get back to the hotel and clear up a few loose ends.’
‘Ok. Do you want me to run you back there?’
‘No I’m going to walk, I could use the exercise.’
‘Walk? It’s a bit dangerous these days, muggers and those street kids can be very aggressive.’
‘I used to walk this way when you had to watch out for lions and buffalo, not to mention the occasional elephant.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes, very.’Firdus hugged his nephew.
Doug watched his uncle walk away and join the other pedestrian traffic; he kept watching until he rounded the corner up the hill and out of sight. ‘Where’s that number bloody seven?’ Doug yelled out to Musa as he crawled back under the car.
*
Firdus was grateful for the exercise; the walk had cleared his head. He called in to say goodbye to Katana. ‘Congratulations, I met the Minister and he confirmed you were now in charge of this case.’
‘Yes thank you sir, he called me and told me he had spoken to the British Ambassador about Brian. What should I do sir?
‘Do as you’re told. When those guys get involved in their diplomatic games, don’t try to second guess them.’
‘Yes sir. I’m flying down to Dar tomorrow with a team to look for Patel’s car.What do I do about Azizza and Evans?’
‘You don’t have enough evidence to charge them. They can claim they were only following Patel’s instructions; any two-bit lawyer will take that stance. Unless you catch Patel - you can’t prove anything - after all the payments stopped with his disappearance.’
Katana took notes. ‘And Evans, Sir?’
‘That’s up to his boss. The bank has the title deeds to the land. If the government tries to recover them, the bank will sue them for allowing the deeds to fall into the wrong hands. The litigation could take years; in the meantime the value of the land will only go up. The bank could do very well out of it in the long term.’ Firdus snorted. ‘It would be wiser for them to keep Evans on as an important material witness, imagine that?’
‘And the original applicants of the land?’
‘They are the real victims. Their only recourse is to sue the government but those plots will remain undeveloped which will mean the Government can reclaim them, leading to a further wrangle with the Bank.’
Katana looked puzzled. ‘Sir, just supposing I do find the money, what happens then? Can the bank claim the money?’
‘No. Technically the money belongs to the land owners - unless they default on their payments - which they will because of the fraud, in which case the bank holds onto the title deeds as security.’
‘If that’s the case then what’s the point in arresting Patel?’ Katana looked truly puzzled.
Firdus chuckled. ‘If Patel is arrested then the whole case becomes much clearer. His fraudulent acquisition of the title deeds clears the government of some responsibility and they can then claim the title deeds back from the bank, in which case the bank would then be the loser.’
‘So the bank had better hope we don’t arrest Patel?’
‘Yes, now you can see how crafty he has been.’
‘I don’t care,’ said Katana, ‘I’m going to get him. He stole that land from poor and landless Kenyans!’
‘Yes he did, and you must keep reminding the Minister of that fact.’ Good luck in Dar-es-Salaam tomorrow.’ They shook hands warmly. ‘You know where to find me.’
FORTY-TWO
Patel stretched out luxuriously on the king size bed. He ordered breakfast then had a shower. Later, he decided soberly that to go to his family now was not such a good idea. His original escape plan in tatters, he knew intuitively that the authorities were bound to pick up Azizza.
He could not afford to take that risk; he had plenty of money from the sale of his factory, as well as money he had transferred legitimately for the purposes of educating his children. He weighed up all the facts and then called his wife.
‘Are you here?’ She asked excitedly.
‘No my dear, I’m still in London. Listen I have been thinking, it’s time we had a holiday.’
‘Holiday? What do you mean?’
‘I want you and the boys to come to London.’
‘To London? But they have school Jugdish,’ she protested, ‘the end of term is eight weeks away.’
‘Never mind, I want to take you and the boys on a trip round Europe, this is a far better way to get an education,’ he fiddled distractedly with the desk drawer and took out a brochure, ‘we can all go to Euro Disney,’ he enthused.
‘What? This is all so sudden, why don’t you come home first, we can discuss it and make proper plans. The boys are about to leave for school, I have to get them ready.’
‘No,’ he said firmly, ‘I have made up my mind, they are not to go to school today. I want you to get on a coach, one that goes direct to Heathrow airport. You don’t need to pack very much, just the essentials and don’t forget the passports.’
‘But this is madness, we can’t just get up and leave just like that! All my friends are expecting to meet you, what will I say to them?’
‘Friends?’ Patel grimaced at the idea. ‘Sweetheart, I have been working so hard, this is an adventure, surely you wouldn’t want to spoil my surprise would you?’
‘No, but Jugdish.’
‘If we think about it too much, we will find reasons not to go, just see it as a safari, it will be so much fun. I only want to spend time with you and the boys. Come on my dear you can do it,’ he encouraged her.
‘But Jugdish, you could have told me yesterday.’
‘I could have but I had not thought of it then my dear.’
‘What about the boy’s school? They won’t just let them leave like that. They are very strict about things like that.’
‘So don’t tell them then my dear,’ he laughed.
‘Oh, you are such a rogue,’ she laughed with him.
‘That’s better my dear, you have forgotten that life is about freedom, this little trip will be a good reminder, eh?’
‘How long will we be away?’
‘Oh at least ten days,’ he said breezily, ‘and I have another wonderful surprise for you.’
‘Oh what is it?’
/>
‘Aha, you’d better get packed and get on that coach if you want to find out sweetheart.’
‘Where do I catch this coach from,’ she asked in a panic.
‘The coach station, just order a taxi and at the ticket office ask for the express to Heathrow airport. Stay on the bus until you get there. It’s easy, I will meet you, don’t worry.’
‘Ok, we had better hurry there’s lots to do.’
‘Yes my dear and don’t tell anyone where you’re going.’
‘Why what’s wrong?’
‘Nothing, I’m just thinking it will be more of an adventure, leave them all wondering.’
‘Oh sometimes you’re so silly.’
‘Yes but that’s why you love me isn’t it my dear?’
‘Yes, it is. Ok I had better go, the boys will be surprised!’
‘Good, see you in a few hours, my love.’ Patel finished his coffee and went downstairs to a travel agents office in the foyer. He explained what he wanted and over the next thirty minutes, they worked out a travel package for him and his family. Three days at Euro Disney in Paris, then overnight by train to Zurich for one night, where he planned to open a bank account and then on to Venice by coach for two nights, then a short flight to Barcelona, putting up in a medium hotel for another three nights.
‘That should do nicely,’ said Patel.
‘Yes sir what about your return trip?’
‘Oh don’t worry about that, I have other plans.’
‘Very good sir and how will you be paying for this?’
Patel handed over his credit card with a smile.
*
Brian collected his passport from the bank and caught the overnight flight to London. He landed at Heathrow on time and joined a line going through immigration.
‘Mr. Nicholls?’A voice called out. Brian looked round to see two men looking at him. One of them was holding what looked like an oversize mobile phone with an aerial. ‘I think you need to come with us sir,’ the man said pleasantly.
‘Who are you?’ Brian asked.
‘I’m Detective Hardy and this is PC Watkins from immigration.’ Hardy’s light coloured eyes, pupils disconcertingly small, like pin pricks, bored into Brian’s.
‘What do you want with me?
Hardy laughed nastily. ‘Ok games up Nicholls. We are taking you to the police station at the airport.’
‘Why? What am I being charged with?’
‘Would you care to put these on,’ the detective handed over a set of handcuffs. ‘I’m sure you know how they fit.’
Brian looked at the proffered cuffs. ‘I don’t think so,’ he said, not taking them, ‘I need to talk to my lawyer.’
‘Sir, I’m not asking you.’ He held out the cuffs.
Hardy led the way to an unmarked car where a driver sat waiting. The detective opened the back door and guided Brian in, he slid in beside him. ‘Ok, let’s go,’ Hardy told the driver.
‘You can’t do this, I know my rights,’ said Brian.
‘All I know is that my missus was ready to give it to me when I got the call to come and look for you. If that were not bad enough, I also missed my breakfast, so I couldn’t give a shit what happens to you, so save it for the next poor sod who has to deal with you.’
*
Marjory Bannister in her office liked to read her mail first thing. The letter she now had in her hand had her angry and confused. She read it again, trying to make sense of it. She pressed her intercom and spoke to the secretary. ‘Is John Sandifer in yet?’ Putting the letter to one side she continued to read her other mail. Presently there was a discreet knock on her door and John put his head round. He still looked half asleep. ‘You wanted to see me ma’am?’
‘Yes come in, shall I order you coffee?’ Not waiting for an answer she rang the secretary. She turned to him. ‘Late night?’
He sighed, avoiding her stare.
‘What do you make of this?’ She handed him the letter.
Sandifer read it through quickly. ‘Strange,’ he commented and handed it back to her; they were interrupted by the arrival of the coffee and tea, John gratefully took his cup, his hand trembling.
Marjory frowned as she saw the shake. ‘Nicholls caught the flight to London last night?’
‘Yes we had someone at the airport who confirmed he went through immigration,’ John agreed nodding emphatically, his coffee almost slopping over the rim of the cup.
‘So he had his passport, which makes this letter seem very odd indeed,’ she tapped it with a bright red fingernail.
John stared at the finger and the letter as though he would read an answer. ‘Yes rather odd,’ he offered nervously.
‘Why would the Minister hand back his passport and then demand from us that he be extradited from Britain?’
‘I wasn’t privy to your conversation with the Minister at the funeral,’ said Sandifer a little defensively.
‘That’s not true; I told you in the car what we had discussed. The Minister had agreed to let Nicholls go, assuming we would pick him up in London to answer to an embezzlement charge.’
‘Yes Ma’am, is that what you want us to do, pick him up?’
‘Why don’t you hurry up and do that, so we can make sense of this conversation?’ He returned after a few moments, clutching papers in his hands.
‘The flight is about to land, what do you want them to do?’
‘Good, hold him until we decide how to play this,’ she waved the letter. Sandifer hesitated and took in the Ambassador’s glare and raised eyebrows.
‘Ma’am? I have something from the Ministry of Agriculture. You had better read it, it’s quite long,’ he handed over the papers. Her nose wrinkled as she got a whiff of his late night. She read the letter, it was to do with a British aid project, some fifty tractors and farm equipment that England had agreed to donate for rural communities around the country; and copies of temporary work permits for six British nationals employed by H.M Government to implement the projects.
These tractors were due in the port city of Mombasa in three days time. But Omollo from the Ministry of Security had instructed the agricultural ministry that they should not be allowed to land on Kenyan soil, until the British Government had fulfilled obligations requested by his good office.
What an earth were they talking about? She asked to be put through to Omollo and read the letter again as she waited.
‘Hello, Rupert Omollo.’ He announced himself.
‘Yes Mr. Omollo this is Marjory Bannister.’
‘Ah hello, and what can I do for you Ambassador?’
‘I have your letter regarding Nicholls here on my desk.’
Omollo chuckled. ‘Yes ambassador we now have evidence from a seized computer that Mr. Nicholls has stolen funds from a valid client of the bank in which he worked in Malindi and,’ he paused, ‘we want the money back.’
‘I see,’ replied Marjory, there was a moment of silence.
‘And you want to have Nicholls extradited?’
‘If we have to, yes, we will demand that that be the case,’ he replied smoothly.
‘I see,’ there was steel in Marjory’s voice, ‘and this other letter from the Ministry of Agriculture is also to do with Nicholls’ extradition.’
‘Exactly, that’s the ticket,’ the Minister agreed chuckling.
‘Minister Omollo this is tantamount to blackmail. One thing has nothing to do with the other.’
‘Those are harsh words Ambassador, blackmail? No, in our culture, traditionally it’s known as insurance, if you like,’ he laughed long and loud. She held the phone away from her ear distastefully and waited for him to stop.
‘You can’t be serious. You’re holding up an aid project - a gift from our government to your people, to improve their lives - in order to try to force us to extradite Nicholls?’
‘Yes,’ he agreed happily. ‘Now you will have noticed that we have not cc’d the letter to your Agricultural Minister - not yet anyway - and while you sit on
your self-righteous pedestal, this so called gift of yours to us poor Africans, is nothing more than recycling taxes to promote and pay for the manufacture of tractors in your own country, as well as create employment for your own nationals - who you will later tax once more. I’m sure if I send a copy of this letter to your Ministry, there will be an immediate reaction with significant embarrassment to your good office.’
Marjory took a deep breath. ‘Mr. Omollo my government takes a very dim view of any attempts at blackmail, call it what you will, that is what it amounts to. Now I presume that, having carefully thought about it, you have found a more amenable solution to this pending brouhaha?’
‘Yes I can shed light on your dim view. It’s very, very simple. Get the money that Nicholls stole back to us and all will be forgiven, at least from our side.’
‘I see, but I’m not sure that this can be done, after all how can we be sure that Nicholls is guilty? And if so - and we do find the money - what guarantee is there that money will be returned to its rightful owners?’
‘Guarantee? You have a nerve Ambassador, this money is not yours to distribute. It’s been stolen by one of your own nationals, and it must be returned to Kenya.’
‘So Minister, you want the stolen money returned?’
‘Correct.’
‘And what about your orders for an extradition?’
‘Yes, if you don’t get the money to us, we will have to persuade Nicholls to come clean here. I’m sure your more civilised methods would be more effective.’
‘And if we comply with your wishes, this aid Project will go ahead as planned?’
‘Of course, you have my word on that. As I said, it’s all very simple, like us Africans.’
‘It’s a very irregular request Minister, but I will see what I can do,’ Marjory replied over politely.
‘Good. Now my dear Ambassador, I will expect a positive answer from you by the end of this working day; and just so you don’t dally, I’m sure you wish to enjoy that retirement home you have recently bought on the shores of Lake Naivasha, rather than be a persona non grata in this beautiful country of ours. Are we all done? I’m a busy man.’
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