African Pursuit

by David Alric

  ‘It looks as though he’s keeping to his side of the bargain he made with you,’ she told Clive, ‘so we’d better get on with ours!’ They all then had a long discussion about the best plan for retrieving the diamond. Clive had assumed that he would be the one to go, but Lucy said that if they could adjust the invisibility robe to fit her it would be better, as she could talk to any guard animals directly.

  ‘In case you’ve both forgotten,’ said Clare after listening to them arguing. ‘We’re in Kinshasa where they speak French. As you’re both hopeless at French, you won’t know if anything useful is being said. I’m the one who should go and Lucy can fix the animals from outside before I go in. Anyway,’ she added with a smile. ‘I’m dying to have a go with that robe at least once.’

  Her logic was unassailable so it was agreed that she should go and they adjusted the robe to fit her. She then rang the ambassador on the home number he’d given Clive to get an exact description of the diamond.

  ‘He’s not getting you to go in there is he?’ the ambassador said in genuine distress. ‘These are vicious ruthless people who’ll stop at nothing.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Clare reassured him. ‘It’s going to be a combined operation.’

  ‘Well, the very best of luck to you,’ said the ambassador. ‘I think you’re very courageous. Oh, and please thank Clive for leaving the fax and tell him that after he left today I rang his parents in Salonga.’

  The next morning Clive and Lucy took a taxi from their hotel and went to a large villa in an affluent suburb. The villa was invisible from the road because it was surrounded by a high wall surmounted with barbed wire. An imposing drive led from the main road up to a guard house adjacent to two massive iron gates. Beyond the gate a cheetah was just visible, sauntering across the drive.

  The taxi door opened.

  ‘Goodbye! Good luck!.’ The door closed. The taxi driver glanced in the mirror before driving off and was astonished to see that there were still two people in the back. Tourists! he thought. Always changing their mind. He was just about to ask where they would like to go instead when the door opened again.

  ‘What about the animals?’ a voice said.

  ‘Gosh, sorry, I forgot all about it!’ Lucy and Clive got out and asked the driver to wait a few moments. They walked up and down as though admiring the gates while a security guard with a heavy automatic weapon eyed them suspiciously. They walked away from the gates to some nearby trees and soon a monkey swung down to sit on a low branch. He seemed very interested in Lucy. After a few moments Lucy spoke – apparently to nobody in particular, as far as the guard could make out.

  ‘Everything’s fine,’ she said. ‘He’s intelligent. In fact he’s going to go in and stick around all the time you’re there. He says the crocs aren’t too bright and may not get it quite right, so it’s best if he’s there.’

  ‘Crocodiles! Nobody said anything about crocodiles!’ said a disembodied voice.

  ‘Well, you were the one who insisted on going.’ replied Lucy. ‘It was a straight choice between speaking French and speaking crocodile and you won the argument.’ Clive smiled at this sisterly interchange. Lucy suddenly grinned.

  ‘Everything’s fine,’ she said. ‘I was only teasing. Good luck!’ She and Clive went back to the taxi as the monkey swung effortlessly over the wall into the villa grounds.

  ‘Were you really teasing?’ said Clive as the taxi moved off. ‘I thought the ambassador did mention crocs, but maybe I didn’t tell you.’

  ‘No, I wasn’t teasing,’ said Lucy with a grin. ‘But she was being a bit of a wimp and I’m sure the monkey’ll see she’s OK.’

  After the taxi had driven off Clare suddenly felt very alone and vulnerable. Her confidence of the night before suddenly seemed to have evaporated. She began to worry what would happen if the robe’s energizer suddenly failed – it didn’t bear thinking about. Even Lucy’s reassurance that she and Clive would soon hear from the animals if anything went wrong didn’t completely assuage her fears.

  Just then a large car drove up to the gates and the guard jumped to attention. He spoke to two other heavily armed guards who came through a small door beside the main gates and asked the occupants of the car to get out. They then frisked them and examined the contents of their briefcases, the interior of the car and the boot, before nodding to the guard and standing back and saluting. He then pressed a button and the gates swung open and the car passed through followed closely by Clare. Once inside she felt a surge of adrenaline and confidence. The guard hadn’t taken the slightest notice of her – so the robe was effective, and a cheetah sniffed at her, then nonchalantly strolled away – so Lucy’s instructions to the monkey seemed to be working. She hurried up to the house where the door was open and a maid greeting the visitors who had just arrived. Clare slipped in and followed them into a meeting room. It was thick with acrid tobacco smoke and, she thought, possibly other kinds of smoke and she had to resist a sudden desire to cough. The newcomers sat at the only three remaining vacant spaces at a large ebony table. At the head of the table sat a large, fleshy man with a nose stud and a cruel face. He was dressed in expensive clothes, wore a large Rolex watch and had heavy rings of gold and precious stones on his stubby fingers. To Clare’s horror he started speaking in Lingala, but after a brief statement in this tongue he switched to French and she relaxed.

  ‘Thanks again for coming, and welcome to our syndicate,’ he said. ‘I think our little club is getting so large,’ he continued, ‘we may have to meet in a larger room next month – or even a larger house.’ The group all laughed at this – they all knew there wasn’t a larger property anywhere in Kinshasa. Clare couldn’t believe her luck. She had obviously stumbled in on a meeting likely to provide a great deal of information.

  ‘Anyway, it’s a sign of our continuing success that we are growing in number and I’m pleased to announce that, for the first time since we formed our little business group, our returns this month from the – ahem – personal documents and photographs that have fallen into our possession, has actually exceeded the income from our legitimate gambling saloons and casinos.’ He turned and addressed the three newcomers directly. ‘And I understand that, as a little gesture of goodwill on being invited to join us, you have brought along some new paperwork to add to our little collection.’

  The leading newcomer smiled, nodded, and passed a large folder to the main man. He flicked through the letters and photographs and beamed after looking at one or two in detail.

  ‘Excellent, excellent,’ he murmured and he started to pass examples round to his crew. There were approving noises and grunts as the group perused the documents and several members congratulated the newcomers on the quality of their material. They went on talking for another two hours and Clare was just beginning to wish she hadn’t had that extra coffee after breakfast when, to her intense relief, the chairman called the meeting to a close. He gathered up the new material into a folder, and led the way into a large reception room lavishly decorated with polished hardwood furniture and imported cutlery, glassware and china. Exquisite African carvings filled numerous alcoves and the floor was covered in exotic animal skins. The tusks and horns of various protected and endangered species adorned the walls and the head of a magnificent leopard graced the panelling behind the top of a polished mahogany table which was covered in canapes and cocktails.

  As the group helped themselves to the nibbles and drinks the boss man excused himself for a moment and left through a side door with the folder under his arm, followed closely by Clare. He went along a corridor and out of the house on to a large flagstoned patio which was open on all sides and was covered by a thatched roof supported on wooden beams. On the patio there was a long table covered with delicacies. These were protected from flies by embroidered muslin covers and cooks were preparing a further selection of meats on barbecues and spits. The smell was delicious and Clare began to feel hungry. The man she was following nodded to one of the cooks who immediate
ly picked up a large hunk of raw meat and accompanied him. Still followed by Clare they walked through a small garden, where peacocks strutted, and soon they came to a small lake which was entirely surrounded by a high fence of steel netting. The top of the fence curved outwards and was strung with barbed wire bearing a voltage sign with a skull and crossbones on it, to indicate it was electrified. There was an entrance gate in the fence and from this a concrete causeway led across the water to an island on which stood a small wooden cabin. Along each side of the causeway ran steel grooves. Something moved as the three of them approached and Clare saw that the pool was teeming with crocodiles, three or four of which were basking on the causeway. She made a mental note to deal with Lucy later.

  At the entrance to the gate was a security panel. The man lifted the flap on this and inserted a key from a gold chain around his neck. He then gave another nod to the cook who lifted the flap on a small aperture in the fence and threw the meat he had brought into the pool. There was a thrashing of tails as the crocodiles fought to reach the snack and the animals on the causeway immediately slid into the water to join the fray. As soon as they had all gone the man turned the key and two metal fences arose from the grooves alongside the causeway. He turned and made a dismissive gesture to the cook, who returned to his duties.

  The man then tapped out a code on the security pad. Clare was now standing right beside him and memorized the six-digit code. As soon as he pressed the last button the gate slid open and he now had a clear path to the cabin door, the steel fences on either side of the causeway protecting him from the crocodiles. He moved quickly across the causeway, followed by Clare and went into the cabin using the same code. There were three rooms inside: a large office, a kitchenette and, much to Clare’s relief, a toilet. The office contained a table with a phone, a filing cabinet with three drawers, and a computer. The top drawer of the filing cabinet was labelled (in French) “Syndicate accounts”; the second drawer, “Letters and photos”; and the bottom drawer,“Items”. The man put his folder on the table and took out the material the newcomers had given him. He opened the second drawer, put the documents in a file marked “unsorted” and closed it. The cabinet was unlocked, somewhat to Clare’s surprise, then she reminded herself that the entire crocodile enclosure was, in effect, one large walk-in safe.

  The man went to the door, keyed in the same code as before, and returned across the causeway. Once the far gate had closed behind him he took the golden key from his neck and stuck it into the security console. Seconds later the causeway rails retracted into their seatings and within moments some crocodiles had hauled themselves out onto the causeway again for a sunbathe. The man hurried back to join the pre-lunch reception and, after a quick trip to the loo, Clare set to work. The top drawer of the filing cabinet contained accounts related to the restaurants, bars and casinos run by the syndicate and seemed straightforward and non-incriminating. They were obviously documents concerned with the legitimate front of the organization and would, no doubt, be the only ones submitted for perusal by auditors and tax officials. The second drawer was much more interesting. It contained, in addition to the ‘unsorted’ file, a meticulously labelled set of envelopes, each with a name and address on it. Clare opened one which contained a letter of a highly personal nature and a photograph, which Clare suspected, the owner would dearly love to have back in her possession. She flicked through some of the other envelopes; all contained similar documents. Some bore the titles and addresses of people who were prominent officials – either on the outside envelope or on the material within. All the letters and papers contained information about which the original owners were obviously being blackmailed. Clare knew that the names and addresses on the envelopes would be in the computer and every week or month an address label and letter would be generated with a request for a monetary payment. If the payment didn’t appear, the secret material in the cabinet would be made public – a risk none of those being blackmailed could possibly afford to take.

  Clare remembered what she had come for and opened the bottom drawer. It was the most fascinating section of all, containing a vast and motley range of items: cuff-links, scarves, wristwatches, brooches, knives, a handgun, theatre tickets, a nightclub cloakroom tag, and various articles of clothing including a pair of slippers and, bizarrely, a single shoe. Each item was tagged neatly with a name and address and a note as to where it had been obtained. As she gazed at the apparently innocuous pile of assorted objects she realised that every one of them, because of the circumstances in which it had been found or stolen, was so compromising to its original owner that he or she was prepared to pay a fortune to the blackmailers in order to protect themselves from exposure. She felt physically sick as she thought of the ongoing mental anguish and torment that the contents of the cabinet represented for the hundreds of victims of the extortionists. At the bottom was a box covered in maroon felt bearing the British royal coat of arms and Clare knew without examining the label that she had found what she sought. She opened the spring lid with a click and gasped in wonder as she saw the exquisite stone nestling in its bed of finest satin. Clare had brought under her robes a large bag. She had expressed surprise at its size when Clive had produced it, for she already knew from the ambassador the modest dimensions of the lost diamond box.

  ‘I just think you may find it comes in useful,’ Clive had said enigmatically and now, as she looked at the files in front of her, she knew what he had meant. First she took the jewel box, then she took all the contents of the document and photograph file. There wasn’t much room left in her bag but she took some of the smaller items from the bottom drawer and squashed them in. Then she walked to the door and prayed that the security code didn’t change according to a protocol every time it was used. She tapped in the code she had memorized and the cabin door slid back. She saw the crocodiles scattered across the causeway and faltered, but then, on the meshed roof of the enclosure, she saw Lucy’s monkey calmly sitting grooming himself and felt reassured. She wedged the door open with a chair then returned to the filing cabinet and threw the remaining contents of the items drawer into the pool. The shoe and slippers and pieces of clothing were instantly swallowed or torn to bits by the crocodiles. The inedible items sank into the soft muddy bottom and disappeared.

  She then went back and pushed the computer over so that its cooling grilles were uppermost. The cabin had several torches and oil lamps for use during the frequent powercuts and she poured oil from the lamps into the computer grille until it started seeping out at the bottom through joints in the casing. She then lit the wick from one of the lamps and placed it on the floor in the pool of oil leaking from the computer. As the oil began to burn she rapidly took the syndicate accounts from the top drawer of the filing cabinet and stuffed them under her arm. They stuck out a bit through the invisibility robe but she didn’t worry – she wasn’t taking them far. The computer was now engulfed in flames and she hurried across the causeway, stepping carefully between the recumbent crocodiles, opened the gate in the fence with the code and wedged it open with a large stone. She glanced around to check all was clear, then slipped off her robe and looked at the monkey. She pointed at the crocodiles and then pointed through the garden to the outside dining area. The monkey didn’t react, so she repeated the gesture and mimicked eating. Suddenly the monkey twigged and swung down the side of the enclosure to speak to the reptiles. Soon they were waddling across the garden towards the barbecue. The peacocks scattered, letting out harsh cries of fear. The cooks took one look and ran for cover as the crocodiles fell upon the roasted meats. Two or three of the reptiles clambered onto benches and then on to the table and commenced to clear the delicacy-laden boards of everything edible. At that very moment the syndicate and their guests emerged to have their lunch. Smoke from the burning cabin was now beginning to curl over the trees and drift slowly towards the house.

  Clare, hidden once again in her robe and clutching her bag and the syndicate files, slipped past the guests, fore
going the pleasure of seeing their faces, and went back to the conference room where she stuffed the syndicate accounts file into the briefcases of the visitors. If the security was as strict on the way out as it was on the way in, she thought, the newcomers were going to have a great deal of explaining to do and would fall under instant suspicion for the whole operation. She walked down to the gate, past several cheetahs, and picked up a large stone with which she banged hard on the gate. The security guard looked up from his lunch and looked out. She banged the gate again and rattled it. The guard came out, peeped through from side to side and shook his head in puzzlement. As he turned back to the guard house he noticed that his lunch had disappeared. The gate rattled again and looking back he saw his lunch scattered on the driveway outside the bars of the gate. Some birds were already hopping towards it. Then he noticed that his hat and a large bunch of keys had also been pushed through the bars of the gate. He called to the back of the guard house and the two security men appeared. One of them unslung his gun and held it at the ready as the guard pushed a button and the small side door slid open. The security officer went out cautiously, weapon at the ready, looking nervously from side to side before retrieving the hat and keys and retreating hurriedly back inside. He was unaware of Clare sidling past him. The side door closed. The monkey appeared on top of the wall and was joined by another from a nearby tree. They came to the ground and sniffed until they located Clare. They then set off along the roadside path, turning back to look at where they knew Clare to be. Their intention was unmistakable and she followed them immediately. After a mile or so they came to a small deserted sideroad with a taxi parked in it. The driver was smoking and reading a comic while Lucy and Clive strolled about admiring the trees and tropical flowers. Suddenly they seemed to feel that they had seen enough of nature and got back into the taxi. The doors shut and Clive leaned forward to the driver.