Elephant Dropping (9781301895199) (17 page)

‘Oh, and what
does she pay you for the title deeds?’

‘Why should I
tell you?’ the man asked belligerently.

‘Ahh, just
talking, my name is Evans,’ holding out his hand.

The man looked
at the hand and then reluctantly took it. ‘My name is Hassan.’

‘Hassan, you
want another beer?’

‘Yes, but have
you got a match?’

‘No, but I can
get you one,’ Evans quickly stepped out and bought a box of matches
from a passing hawker. ‘Here you go,’ he handed them over.

‘Thanks
bro.’

‘No problem,
two more beers,’ Evans called out. ‘Let’s sit at that table,’
pointing to the corner, ‘it will be more comfortable.’

Hassan was
reluctant to move, but the sight of two full bottles of beer
stirred him on. It became apparent as he stood up that he was well
into his cups. He wavered, leaning over at an angle, Evans sure he
would fall, but he rallied and shuffled forwards. He sat down in
the plastic chair with a thump. ‘Ahhh, ashtray!’ He called out
pointing his unlit cigarette at the barmaid. He then struggled to
light his cigarette, tipping matchsticks on the floor as he opened
the box upside down. ‘Damn,’ he muttered.

Evans waited
for him to light up before returning to his original question. ‘So
you know that woman, the Arab?’

‘Yes, but she
won’t fuck me,’ Hassan complained. ‘We do good business together,
why can’t she sweeten the deal? She has a nice body,’ he winked
confidentially.

Evans grunted
his commiserations, pressing on. ‘So how much does she pay you for
those title deeds?’

‘Why do you
want to know?’

‘She brings
them to my bank to take out loans. If I know much she pays, perhaps
I could charge her more, and you and I can make beer money,’ Evans
suggested.

‘You say I
can’t pay for my beer?’ Hassan squinted at him.

‘No I’m sure
you can, I’m just suggesting a little extra. After all, your title
deeds are ending up in my bank. We are already partners in a way,’
Evans reasoned.

Hassan was not
so drunk as to give his game away. ‘You do your job, and I do mine.
How much do you lend out on the title deeds?’

Evans could see
this idea was not going in his favour. ‘You’re right, we should
keep our jobs separate,’ he agreed.

‘Ha!’ Hassan
growled. ‘You don’t want to tell me, but you expect me to tell you,
you think I’m a fool? I can knock you out with one punch you shit,
think I can’t buy my own beer. A
maskini
civil servant,
while you, you big fat Mr. Manager, think I’m scared of you?’

Evans decided
it was time to leave. He stood up. Hassan also got to his feet.
‘You think you’re so tough?’

‘No, look I’m
sorry, I did not mean to offend you,’ Evans, hurriedly backed away.
Hassan made a grab for the manager and missed, falling across the
table, knocking bottles and glasses flying.

Evans put money
on the bar top, and hastily exited the bar.

Hassan yelled
at him from the floor. ‘Motherfucker shit, come back here I will
fix you!’

Evans was
shaken. ‘Jesus that guy is mad.’ He rang Azizza as he made for the
parked car, only to spot her emerging from a shop, directing two
men carrying a desk.

‘Oh Evans, what
brings you here?’ she asked.

‘Was meeting a
client,’ he muttered.

She could smell
the beer on his breath. ‘Oh a client?’

‘Yes, Nicholls
wants to know when he can meet you?’

‘Well, when is
he coming back to Malindi?’

‘I don’t know,
he wants me to tell him when you can meet.’

‘I see, we
should have the office ready, so tell him Wednesday.’

‘Office?’

‘Yes we are
opening a new office for Golden Palm.’

‘Really,
where?’

‘There.’ Azizza
pointed across the square.

‘When did this
happen?’

‘Not long ago,
Patel has just got back from Nairobi and he wants to talk about
your car, we meet at our usual spot this evening.’

Hassan emerged
from the bar and called loudly across the square startling
everyone. ‘Azizza I love you, my darling! And you stay away from my
woman,’ he yelled at Evans.

Evans made a
hasty retreat round the other side of the car. Azizza waved at
Hassan and stared at Evans. ‘A client eh?’She quickly got into the
car and drove off, smiling in Hassan’s direction.

*

Evans arrived
late at the nightclub and was pleased to see Patel’s Landcruiser
parked alongside his Mercedes. He ran his fat fingers across the
silver sedan’s roof possessively. He joined Patel and Azizza at
their usual table. Shaking hands with Patel and nodding at Azizza,
he sat down. ‘So what’s this about an office?’

‘Yes, we have
taken office space in the Malindi Square, because of your friend
Nicholls.’ Patel grinned. ‘By the way, do you know when he is due
back in Malindi?’

‘I called him,
he is planning to drive down on Sunday.’

‘Driving? In
what car?’

‘The bank’s
car, it’s a Range Rover.’

‘Do you know
the car’s registration number?’

‘No,’ admitted
Evans, ‘but I can find out.’

‘Good, and
whilst we are on the subject of cars,’ he handed over some official
looking documents, ‘congratulations, the Mercedes is now in your
name.’

Evans eagerly
scanned the papers, beaming a thank you and tucking them into his
jacket. ‘And the keys?’

Patel shook his
head. ‘You can’t have the car yet.’

‘Why not?’
Evans demanded.

‘Because of
Nicholls.’

‘It’s none of
his business what car I’m driving,’ his voice rising.

Patel said
evenly. ‘Really Evans, stop being difficult, we have already had
this conversation. How could someone on your salary afford a car
like that?’

‘My wife could
have bought it for me, what does it matter?’

‘Azizza has
told me about your wife. I’m going to lend you my Landcruiser, so
you will have wheels.’

‘Oh, thank you,
but when do I get the Mercedes?’

‘Once we have
completed this project.’ Patel slid over the keys to the
Landcruiser.

‘And when will
that be?’ Evans pocketed the keys.

‘In about six
months. As you can see, the car is in your name, it’s not a gift.
Payment will come from your cut.’

Evans, although
pleased to have the Landcruiser, was annoyed; he had assumed the
game had shifted in his favour with the signing of the papers. ‘Six
months, that’s far too long.’

‘Mr. Manager
wake up. It’s very important that you keep a low profile, be
patient.’ Evans nursed his beer looking disgruntled.

‘We would like
to know what you were doing talking to Hassan this afternoon.
Azizza tells me Hassan doesn’t like you. What have you been telling
him?’Patel probed.

Evans frowned.
‘Nothing, I went in there for a beer. Hassan was drunk and told me
he worked at the land office. I had no idea until he saw Azizza,
then he told me she was giving him money.’

Patel was
watching him closely. ‘You stay away from Hassan that is Azizza’s
department. You have no business communicating with him, is that
clear?’

‘Look, it was
just a coincidence, the man was drunk.’

‘Well don’t
make another “meeting a client” coincidence like that one.’ Azizza
rebuked him.

Evans
retaliated and shot back. ‘He says he loves you.’

‘He had better
get in line.’ She pouted in satisfaction.

Patel grinned.
‘How do you do it my dear?’ he teased.

‘It’s my hot,
Arab blood,’ she said, ‘it’s irresistible.’

Patel drained
his beer. ‘It’s been a long day,’ he announced standing up, ‘I’m
off to bed, Evans drive carefully it’s a big car.’

Azizza and
Evans sat in awkward silence. Evans studied the bubbles in his
beer, while Azizza watched the dancers. She was the first to break
the silence. ‘So you now have two cars, happy now?’

Evans nodded.
‘Listen, about that maneno with Hassan, until he told me. I really
didn’t know who he was.’

Azizza
shrugged. ‘Bad luck then. Hassan gets very aggressive when he is
drunk. Was there anyone else in the bar?’

‘No, just the
barmaid.’

She stood up.
’What do you want to do about the car? Want me to follow you back
to your house?’

‘No, I’m not
ready to leave. I was going to order some food, will you join me?’
Azizza shook her head.

Evans smiled.
‘Bring the Landcruiser to the bank tomorrow, I can get my wife to
give me a lift to work.’ He handed her the keys.

‘Ok.’ She said,
leaving her drink. ‘See you tomorrow.’

Evans watched
her walk away, the slight sway of her hips entrancing him. He
grinned to himself, that poor bugger Hassan! He tipped the remains
of Azizza’s beer in his glass. Calling a waiter over, he ordered
roast meat and another beer.

*

Lucy sitting up
at the bar, had been keenly observing the three of them as they had
their meeting, recognising Evans when he entered the nightclub. She
wondered who the Arab woman was and the Indian. Adept at reading
body language, she worked out the hierarchy. The Indian was very
much the leader, as he left she followed and watched him climb into
the Mercedes. Later she followed the woman and watched her drive a
white Landcruiser.

Lucy waited
until Evans was alone and tucking into his plate of food, before
approaching the table and addressing him in Kiswahili. ‘Hey you,
handsome, do you remember me?’

Evans looked up
from his plate, recognising her from the police station and he
scowled. ‘What do you want ehh?’ He asked rudely.

‘Nothing, was
just saying hello. Is that a crime?’ She smiled provocatively at
him.

‘So hello, and
goodbye,’ Evans retorted.

‘Hey, I’m
hungry, don’t be so mean,’ she pouted.

‘I’m not your
father to feed you. Get lost.’

‘All alone, by
yourself are you a
shoga
? You don’t look like one,’ Lucy
decided pulling up a chair and sitting down.

‘Watch your
mouth, that chair is taken. My girlfriend is coming back in a few
minutes, you better move,’ he warned.

‘I could be
your girlfriend,’ Lucy offered. ‘You look like you need a fuck.’
She wiggled in her chair, pushing her hips out towards him.

Evans couldn’t
help looking. ‘Hey sister, I’m not a
shoga
and I’m not
looking for any action, so don’t waste your time. Ok.’

‘Ok, buy me a
beer then,’ Lucy countered.

‘If I buy you a
beer, will you leave me in peace?’

‘Maybe,’ she
said running her tongue over her lower lip, and smiling at the
reaction on his face. She reached out and pinched a cube of meat
off his plate. She put this between her teeth and winked at him.
‘Mmm nice taste what will you do with all that energy? Your wife I
suppose,’ arching her eyebrows.

‘Don’t do that
again,’ Evans warned waving a fork at her, ‘how do you know I’m
married?’

‘Handsome,
prosperous man like you, must have a wife. How about that beer, you
bull.’

Evans grinned.
He knew the game but was charmed by her cheek. ‘Alright, one beer
then you go, ok?’

‘Thanks, Mr
Handsome. What is your name? Mine is Lucy.’

Evans ordered a
beer, his eyes watching Lucy lustily, as he finished his food.

‘No name? Ok I
will call you Bull. Where is that
mzungu
you were with, that
day from the police? Birin.’ She asked.

‘He is in
Nairobi.’

‘He is your
boss, he liked me. He paid my fine at the police station, a kind
man, eh?’

‘Yes, he is a
nice man.’

‘Do you have
his mobile number?’

‘I wouldn’t
give it to you,’ Evans stated, picking his teeth.

‘What would you
like to give me then, Mr Bull?’ Lucy asked, stroking her thigh, her
dress riding up, a glimpse of white panties.

‘I told you,
I’m not interested,’ repeated Evans.

Lucy got up and
moved to a chair next to Evans. ‘The music,’ she breathed in his
ear, ‘is so loud. What did you say you’re interested in?’Her hand
fell casually onto his lap.

Evans said.
‘The deal was one beer, and then you go.’

She leaned
forward so he could look over the top of her dress at her breasts.
‘Ahh, a bull man like you, not interested in a beautiful woman like
me,’ she pushed her hand into his crutch squeezing a response from
him.

He leaned
forward his eyes glazing. ‘Stop that,’ he gasped.

‘Let’s go to
your car,’ licking her lips. ‘You do have a car?’

Evans aroused,
wanted her, despite his resolve. ‘What are you going to charge?’ he
spluttered.

Lucy moved away
from him, confident she now had him. ‘You know what I want, that
phone number.’

‘I can’t give
out my boss’s number to strangers.’

Lucy, sucked on
the end of her beer bottle. ‘I’m not a stranger; he likes me, like
you. I can tell.’

‘I can give you
money,’ Evans offered.

Lucy shook her
head, crossing her legs and moving her body away from him.
‘No.’

Evans
capitulated. ‘Listen, if I give you the number, will you promise
not to tell him who gave it to you?’

‘Of course,’
she smiled confidently.

‘Ok, let’s go
to my car.’

‘I haven’t
finished my beer,’ Lucy said swaying to the music, ‘how do I know
you will give me the right number?’

‘You want to
call him right now?’ Evans asked frowning.

‘Sure, just to
hear his voice, so I know you’re not cheating me.

Come on you
bull don’t waste time.’ She put her hand back on his crutch. ‘Just
give me the number.’

Evans was torn
and he hesitated, and then took out his mobile phone. ‘Do you have
a pen and paper?’

Lucy whipped
out her mobile from her bag. ‘Read it out to me.’ She called, the
number rang twice and then switched over to an answer machine. She
strained to hear, and smiled as she heard Brian’s voice. She
clicked off. ‘Heh, Birin,’ she said in satisfaction.