Elephant Dropping (9781301895199) (44 page)

They followed
her at a discreet distance, the Landcruiser stopping at the CNB
bank.

Doug rang
Brian. ‘She has just entered the other bank.’

‘Excellent,
come back to the flat now.’

Lucy got out of
the car and made to cross the road.

‘Where are you
going?’ Asked Doug.

She snarled at
him. ‘Go fuck yous gowan,’

‘Fuck you too,’
he said as he drove off, back to the flat.

Doug found
Brian in the office staring at the computer muttering incoherently
to himself.

‘What is
it?

‘There’s a
password on the account, I can’t get in.’

‘Which
account?’ asked Doug.

‘Golden Palm,’
Brian pointed at the computer.

‘What do you
mean a password?’ said Doug.

Brian said
slowly with emphasis. ‘The Golden Palm bank account has a secret
password on it and I can’t get in.’

‘I see, so
that’s fucked it up, hasn’t it.’

‘Yes, unless I
find the password, we’re dead in the water.’

‘Can you not
get around it?’ asked Doug.

I might be able
to later, but I’m tired.’ He switched off the computer. ‘Where’s
Lucy?’

‘I left her at
the bank.’

‘You had better
go back and collect her don’t you think.’

‘What I think,
is inappropriate,’ muttered Doug.

‘What?’

‘I said, go and
get her yourself,’ Doug replied.

‘Look I’ve been
up all night, help me out a little here.’

‘Ok, I will go
and look for her, happy now?’

‘Thanks mate,’
Brian sat lost in thought and as he heard the Landrover driving
away, powered up the computer.

Doug looked for
Lucy. She was nowhere to be seen. He waited for a few minutes
outside the bank, then getting impatient drove back to the
apartment.

Lucy was
upstairs with Brian when he got there. ‘She made it back on her
own,’ he said peering at the screen with Lucy watching
intently.

‘Yes I can see
that,’ said Doug dryly.

‘Jesus,’
muttered Brian and then tapping some figures into a desk
calculator, he swore as he read the figure. ‘Fifty million
shillings has gone from the account,’ Brian moved the cursor and
tapped out numbers on the keypad, ‘it went to a bank in
Mombasa.’

‘I thought you
said there was a password?’

Brian sat back.
‘There is, it doesn’t prevent me looking at the account; I just
can’t make any adjustments. Azizza must have done the transfer when
she was in there.’

He turned to
Lucy. ‘Did you wait for the Arab woman to come out of the
bank?’

She nodded.

‘How long was
she in there?’

‘A longi time,’
Lucy replied, frowning at Doug.

He ignored her
and asked Brian. ‘How did you know how much was in the account
yesterday?’

‘I read it off
Evan’s computer.’ Brian replied.

‘So how much is
left now?’

‘About six and
a half million dollars.’

Lucy jumped up
and down. ‘Ahh, sooo muchi money, let’s get it,’

Brian smiled.
‘Not so easy.’

‘Shit, do you
think Evans said anything to her?’ Doug asked.

‘I doubt it,
he’s not that stupid surely? Maybe they’re getting ready to do a
runner, the money was transferred in dollars,’ Brian patted Lucy’s
behind as she nestled in his lap. She whispered in his ear - Doug
forgotten.

He got the
message. ‘I’m going to go and call my uncle.’

*

Azizza
completed her banking at the CNB bank, arranging Patel’s money
transfer. She then went to the house.

He was on the
phone when she walked in; he smiled at her as he hung up. ‘All ok
my sweet?’

‘Yes, I have
done your transfer to the bank in Mombasa. The manager was alarmed
at the amount, but I explained that it was aid money for the NGO
organisation.’

‘Very good,’ he
rubbed his hands together.

‘I saw Evans
this morning,’ she told him.

‘Oh how is he?’
Patel asked with little interest

‘Odd,’ she
replied, ‘and he has already crashed his car.’

‘Hmmm, such a
fool.’

‘He mentioned
Nicholls and asked after you.’

Patel was now
listening. ‘And?’

‘It was just
strange, the way he was looking at me like he knew something I
didn’t,’ she surmised.

‘So what did he
say about Nicholls?’

‘Nothing
really, he asked if there was any news.’

‘Hmmm, your
intuition says what my dear?’

‘Odd is all,
but another thing, that Somali
malaya
, Lucy, the one that
Nicholls rescued from the police, was hanging about outside the CNB
bank when I came out.’

‘Probably just
a coincidence and maybe you’re just nervous. Do you plan to move
your money?’ he asked pointedly.

‘Yes, and no
don’t ask. By the way,’ she went on, ‘what about Evan’s share?’

‘What share?’
Patel asked.

‘He asked me
about it - when, and how do we pay him?’

‘You can pay
him my dear,’ Patel answered.

‘What, not
likely,’ she retorted.

‘I feel the
same way,’ he smiled at her.

She laughed.
‘What do you think will happen to him?’

‘I haven’t
given it much thought, but if I were you I would get out of
Malindi.’

‘I have distant
relatives in Madagascar, perhaps I will visit them.’ She searched
his face.

Patel turned
away. ‘Good idea,’ he advised. ‘Now listen. I need both cars this
morning I have work to do on them.’

‘I’m expected
to walk?’ Stung by his indifference.

‘You’re a rich
woman, buy yourself a nice car dear.’ Picking up the car keys he
stepped outside. ‘See you in a while.’

His mobile
rang; it was Farook the new owner of his plastic factory. ‘Oh
hello,’ answered Patel warily.

‘Are you in
Malindi?

‘No,’ he lied,
‘what’s up?’

‘Something very
strange has happened. The police picked up my man Dogra, the new
manager from the factory and took him to Nairobi. They weren’t just
any police; they claimed to be an anti- terrorism unit.’

Patel listened
frowning. ‘Anti-terrorism?’

‘Yes, he says
you called him and said there was a problem with his work permit
and if the police came he should say he was you.’

‘What? That’s
crazy.’

‘Yes that’s
what I said, anyhow he gets to Nairobi, they find out he is not you
and he is released. He gets mugged by street kids and left for dead
on the side of the road until a good Samaritan picks him up and
takes him to hospital.’

‘What a story,’
replied Patel. ‘Was he hit on the head?’

‘So you didn’t
call him?’

‘No, of course
not, where did you get this rocket from Farook, he sounds mad.’

‘It’s a crazy
story I agree, but why would the anti-terrorism police be looking
for you?’

‘Me? Come on my
friend, who the hell has ever heard of a police anti-terrorism
unit? Your man has been duped.’

‘Yes you’re
right, I just want to check with you, as you know the police quite
well in Malindi. Can you ask what happened?’

‘Of course my
friend, sorry you have had this trouble.’ Patel consoled him. ‘Call
me if you hear anything else, speak to you soon.’

Patel was
anxious when he drove to the town square and waited for Fimbo.
There was a tap on the passenger side window, he opened the door
and Fimbo climbed in. ‘Drive,’ waving his baton. A few hundred
yards later he spoke again. ‘Stop here. My money?’

Patel handed
over the agreed balance in an envelope; the cop glanced inside,
grunted and put it in his pocket.

‘Your passport
muhindi
,’ he held out his hand.

‘Do you really
need that?’

‘Don’t waste my
time,’ he growled, ‘hand it over.’

‘And when do I
get it back?’

‘When I get my
car.’

Patel handed
over another envelope holding onto one end as the inspector reached
for it. ‘Now don’t you lose this,’ he cautioned still holding on as
Fimbo tugged, he then let go.

‘No problem,’
Fimbo pocketed the envelope in a hurry, looking about him as he got
out of the car, his business concluded. ‘Call me on Saturday after
lunch about your driver.’

The mechanics
Patel had arranged earlier were waiting for him at the gate when he
drove back to the house, bags of tools by their feet. He showed
them what he wanted done to his cars. ‘It shouldn’t take you long.’
They nodded.

‘How much will
you pay?’ One of them asked.

‘If you finish
today, I will give you two thousand each, ok?’

‘Two-five,’ the
older mechanic said.

Patel said.
‘Let’s see how well you do the job.’

‘I always do
good work, you know me.’

‘Yes but this
time I want better work.’ He returned to the house as the mechanics
began the job of transferring the modified fuel tanks from the
Tanzanian vehicle, into Patel’s usual Landcruiser.

Azizza, busy
filling out loan forms barely glanced at him.

He got on the
phone and rang the car showroom in Mombasa arranging a viewing of
Fimbo’s choice of cars on Saturday afternoon. ‘I don’t care if you
close at noon,’ he said rudely, ‘do you want to sell these cars or
not? Good, I thought so; make sure they are clean and well
polished.’

He then rang
the Royal Hotel and spoke to the manager. ‘David, this is Patel
from Malindi. I have some VIPs coming to stay at your establishment
over the weekend. No, one double. Your suite is available? Good,
and I want the mini bar well stocked with cold beers and bottles of
wine, no not champagne, spirits, a bottle of brandy, whisky, gin,
the usual. Thank you, see you this weekend.’

Azizza was
watching him. ‘Having a going away party?’

‘Something like
that,’ he muttered, peering out of the window at the mechanics.

‘You look
nervous,’ she observed.

He looked at
her in surprise, making an effort to relax.

‘You’re hiding
something,’ she concluded.

Patel took a
risk and told her about Farook’s phone call and the incident
involving Dogra.

She listened,
her mouth opened. ‘Anti-terrorist police?’

‘It’s ok,’ he
reassured her, ‘I have paid Fimbo off.’

‘Oh my God,’
she breathed, ‘we are being hunted. That’s why that girl was at the
bank. You knew all this was going on and didn’t tell me,’ her voice
rising, ‘had me go out there like everything was normal this
morning, you bastard.’

‘Hey, leave out
the name calling. Why would they be looking for me?’ He asked.
‘Tell me?’

‘Someone has
told them about the money, that’s why.’

‘No,’ Patel
waved his hands at her. ‘My dear, calm down, you’re being paranoid.
Fimbo is in our pocket. Who ever heard of an anti-terrorist force?
They were just ordinary cops looking for Nicholls because he is
missing, don’t you see? Come now my dear,’ he soothed, ‘be
reasonable. If they were onto us, Evans would not have let you do
those loans this morning,’ he put his hand on her arm in a rare
gesture of affection. ‘If Evans was odd, surely it’s only because
he has crashed his new car, don’t you think?’

She pulled her
arm away. ‘You are such a liar. I have no idea what else you have
done. Thank god I put that password on the account. You’re making
such a mess - we are supposed to be partners.’

‘Mess, what
mess?’ Patel said. ‘You banked another hundred thousand this
morning, you call that a mess?’

A tear rolled
down her cheek. ‘You just don’t understand.’

‘Understand
what,’ genuinely bemused, holding his hands out.

‘I’m just
scared,’ she said, as she wiped the tear away.

‘Scared of
what? You’re not making any sense.’

‘It doesn’t
matter, you wouldn’t understand,’ she sniffed.

‘Come on my
dear,’ he patted her on the shoulder awkwardly like a strange
child, ‘there is nothing to be scared of I have thought of
everything, we only have a few more days left. You’re going to be
free and a very rich woman, that’s nothing to cry about.’

She looked at
him, eyes brimming and stood up pushing him away, before running to
the bathroom and shutting the door behind her.

Patel sat
puzzled. He could find no fault in his plans that Azizza could
possibly get this upset about, what on earth had got into her? He
shrugged his shoulders and then went out to check on the
mechanics.

Azizza sat on
the loo and quietly sobbed to herself. ‘Bloody man,’ she said
wiping her eyes, ‘is he so blind?’ She stood up and looked at her
reflection in the mirror. ‘What’s wrong with him, I’m an attractive
woman, does he expect me to throw myself at him? He is so cold.’
Tears welled up as she thought of the few days they had left
together and it was painful. She suddenly felt so lost and
afraid.

She wiped her
eyes and blew her nose. ‘Come on,’ she told herself, ‘you don’t
need him, you can have any man, to hell with him,’ she flushed the
loo noisily as though banishing him from her existence. ‘I’m not
interested in him anymore and never was,’ she told the mirror,
glossing her lips.

Patel was
engrossed at the computer when she emerged. ‘Listen,’ I need you to
do another transfer to my bank in Mombasa.’

‘What? But I
have already done one and it wasn’t so easy.’

‘Offer a better
rate. You did buy dollars didn’t you?’

‘The manager
was already reluctant to move such a large amount, I doubt he will
agree now,’ she looked at her watch.

‘Try him my
sweet, these people are in business. A better rate should help him
to agree. I would do it myself, but your password is preventing
me.’

‘Ok, I will
remove the password,’ she said belligerently.

He smiled at
her. ‘That suits me just fine.’

‘In your
dreams,’ she retorted, ‘how much this time?’