by Terry Morgan
CHAPTER 19
Mitchell was pleased he had finished his work for the day. It had started badly with Mr Moses and the boxes full of nothing but newspapers, but the delivery of the live chickens had gone without a hitch with only one chicken found dead on arrival. As usual he reversed the truck into his allocated space next to the concrete block headquarters of Mambolo Transport Enterprises and jumped out.
In a line next to his truck were the three small vans that made up the rest of the fleet, but he was surprised to find the three van drivers, Samson, Big Saidu and George, sat together on a pile of wooden pallets outside. With the exception of Mr Suleiman himself, Mitchell was normally the last to leave.
"What's up my man," he said to the three.
"You must go to airport," said George.
"Why? I was there this morning."
They looked at one another. It was Big Saidu who spoke. "Big problem. Mr Moses from Rocki Supplies came here this afternoon. Sampson saw him."
"Yah," said Sampson. "Big argue-ation. Moses very vexed. Suleiman come out, seem very gladdy and say to him, 'Ow du boddy?' - polite like - but Moses ala man, he stat to shout too much. Say Suleiman is big teef. Say cost him fifty tousin dollah. No much fun, Mitchell. I see every ting with mine eye. Then Moses he show big knife and come to Suleiman, but Suleiman brave man. He stop, say let me alone, I not big teef. Suleiman stand tall. Say come in office, sid dan, tock man to man."
"Yah. I warned Mr Suleiman," Mitchell said. "Mr Moses is trouble. Suleiman says Moses is a big teef and a skimmer. But Moses thinks I, Mitchell, am the big teef. I told Mr Suleiman. Where is Mr Suleiman?"
"He went to airport," said George. "He want you go there. Check things out. See what happen."
"OK, I'll go now. But you got any watta, man?" Mitchell asked, resigning himself to an extension to his day. "I gave all my watta to chicken but bastad still die."
Mitchell then raced to Lunghi airport, hoping Mr Suleiman was still there and thinking all the while about the old cargo warehouse he'd been to that morning. It was small, too small and many pallets and boxes were often left standing outside, even in the rain. No wonder they made mistakes.
"Disorganised mess," said Mitchell to himself as he drove. "And that bloody man Tamba - people like him only make things worse - drinking poyo, fucking around when he have job to do."
Mitchell was right because he knew about warehouses. He visited them nearly every day. But the old warehouse at Lunghi was not secure. There was nothing for cold storage, dangerous goods or even weighing and many airlines refused to carry goods due to the lack of security checks. But, somehow, Mitchell's consignment of two hundred boxes had arrived and so, it would seem, had two hundred boxes containing Italian newspaper instead of water purifiers. He stopped his truck at exactly the same spot as that morning and saw Mr Suleiman and Granville, the manager, sitting on chairs just inside the warehouse entrance.
"Ah, here is my driver," Suleiman said. "We will ask him...... Now then Mitchell, please sit......OK, no more chair, then you must stand...... Are you sure that all the boxes contained newspaper and not water purifiers?"
"I don't know, I didn't check all two hundred. Mr Moses was still checking when I left."
"OK, listen. There is too much confusion here. Still sitting in the warehouse behind us are two hundred boxes. Granville and I just checked them. They all contain water purifiers. The paperwork says they are for Daisy Children's Charity and they come from Freeways Freight Forwarding in Milan. But there is no Daisy Children's Charity in Sierra Leone. And Mr Granville cannot find Freeways Freight Forwarding in his book. That is why these boxes are still here.
"But Mr Granville received a telex from Freeways Freight Forwarding admitting an error in the paperwork and asking that the boxes be released to Rocki General Supplies. Mr Granville did not know what to do because Daisy Children's Charity is in Liberia not Sierra Leone. And also something was changed on the documents that were faxed. Mr Granville said it smelled like old fish.
"Then the new consignment of two hundred boxes arrived by Swiss Air also addressed to Daisy Children's Charity with a Post Office Box address but with no consignee's name. Contents of boxes shown as water purifiers. Correct, Mr Granville? I will now ask the warehouse manager, Mr Granville, to explain."
Granville coughed. "This is very bad. I do not know what is happening here."
"Thank you, Mr Granville. That is a very clear conclusion and very honest."
"Now then, Mitchell. Please tell Mr Granville that I once told you that Moses from Rocki General Supplies is a fraudster and one big-time skimmer."
"Yes, sir." Mitchell then looked down to where Granville sat, shaking and scratching his head. "It is true. My boss warned me that Moses is a teef and a big-time skimmer, Mr Granville."
"You see?" said Suleiman. "He is up to no good. It is well known in Freetown, but people are scared to say. They keep quiet because Moses has a big silver Mercedes and a driver with a gun and knows the Government and the Ministers and they think he has other big friends with important jobs. But I am not afraid."
Mitchell raised his hand as if wanting to offer something new. He did.
"Mr Suleiman, sir. Please do not forget that I delivered fifty six boxes that according to the paperwork contained three hundred second hand laptop computers to Mr Moses last week. These were for a charity called School Aid but I delivered them to Mr Moses. Do you think you should also check if there is a charity called School Aid? And I also took many boxes from Mr Moses all the way to Sulima. It took me four days. It was for a company called Sulima Construction but Sulima Construction was like an empty garage, Mr Suleiman. And I saw labels with Daisy Charity on these boxes also."
"This is good thinking, Mitchell," he turned to Granville. "There is something going on here. I smell bad fish and dead rats. Mr Mitchell is my best driver, Granville. He is the eyes and the ears of Mambolo Transport Enterprises Maybe he will become a manager one day."
"So what will you do?" Granville asked.
Suleiman beckoned Granville to sit forward. "Mr Moses pull a knife on me but I never pull a knife. I pull rugs. I pull carpet. Moses is not the only one with friends. I pull strings."