Elephant Dropping (9781301895199) (64 page)

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 to 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.’

‘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.’