Elephant Dropping (9781301895199) (63 page)

Read Elephant Dropping (9781301895199) Online

Authors: Bruce Trzebinski

Tags: #murder, #kenya, #corruption of power, #bank theft

Brian fiddled
with a pen on his desk. ‘There is a way I could get the software. I
have contacts in England, not for a complete upgrade you
understand, but enough to patch up this problem and with the right
upgrade I can re-set the system.’

‘You can?
Excellent! You could get them to DHL it right away, use my phone,’
Njenga enthused.

Brian smiled.
‘It’s not that easy sir. My contacts don’t do this sort of thing
for nothing, besides I would have to explain what the problem is
and help them write the software.’

‘So, what do
you propose?’

‘I could fly to
England and be back here in a few days.’

Njenga digested
this information and made a decision. ‘Ok Nicholls, so be it. How
soon can you leave - today?’

‘I could Sir if
I had my passport but it’s being held by the Minister of Security.
The police found my briefcase and handed it in to him.’

‘That should be
no problem, just ask the Minister for it.’

‘Yes I could
sir,’ agreed Brian, ‘but in view of the urgency I thought maybe you
could help, it might speed things up.’

‘I see,’ Njenga
looked uncertain, ‘I don’t know the Minister well, but I suppose I
could ask him, what do you think?’

‘I think it’s a
matter of urgency Sir, I mean if it could happen to our bank, then
other banks here will be vulnerable.’

‘God Forbid!’
The thought galvanised Njenga into action.

Brian got up,
they shook hands. ‘I had better book my ticket and get organised to
get on a flight tonight.’

‘Stay in touch,
good luck and thank you,’ Njenga said, a worried look on his
face.

‘Don’t worry
sir, we will have this problem sorted in no time.’

*

At the
apartment Brian emptied the wardrobe onto his bed. He then went to
the phone to book his ticket, it rang as he reached for it and he
held his hand back in surprise. Who could be calling me. He picked
it up warily. ‘Hello?’

‘Hello is that
Mr. Brian Nicholls?’ A man’s voice asked.

‘Yes,’ replied
Brian.

‘Ah good this
is the British Embassy, my name is John Sandifer. I’m the assistant
attaché, if it’s not too much trouble the ambassador would like to
see you as soon as possible.’

‘Oh, what
about?’

‘You have been
reported as missing and the Foreign Office is very anxious that we
interview you.’

‘Well, I’m no
longer missing and I’m fine. Thank you for your concern.’

‘It’s not quite
that simple old chap. Though I’m very pleased to hear that you are
well, I must insist that you come down to the embassy and talk with
the ambassador.’

‘It’s not that
convenient.’

‘Yes I’m sure,
these things never are, but be a good chap and do the right thing.
Would you like me to send a car, a problem of wheels is it?’

‘No I have a
car, we can do this tomorrow? I’m very busy.’

‘It won’t take
long. Listen to make things easier, I’m going to send a car for
you.’

‘It’s ok I have
a car,’ Brian protested.

‘Stay where you
are there’s a good chap, the car will be there in a few minutes,
see you soon.’ The phone went dead.

Instinctively
Brian grabbed his car keys and hurriedly made for the door. At the
top of the stairs he saw a black saloon car with diplomatic plates
pull up to the gate. ‘Oh fuck,’ he swore. He went back to his
apartment, he would bloody well make them wait and belligerently
started to pack his suitcase, the phone rang. It was the askari on
the gate telling him a driver was there to collect him.

Brian grabbed
his jacket and made his way out. ‘Bloody officials,’ he swore as he
walked down to meet the driver.

The car pulled
up at the gate to the British Embassy, the driver leaned back over
the front seat. ‘I’m sorry Sir, you will have to walk from here, a
matter of security.’ Brian got out and was frisked expertly by a
guard before removing his keys, phone and pen, then walking through
a metal detector.

‘OK,’ the guard
pointed to a door, ‘go through there, they are expecting you.’

Brian opened
the door and walked up a short flight of carpeted stairs, he heard
the door lock behind him. At the top he found himself in a
reception area with a pleasant looking man leaning on a desk. He
stepped forward, holding out his hand in greeting. ‘Brian Nicholls?
I’m John, John Sandifer, we spoke on the phone, good of you to
come.’

‘Yes,’ replied
Brian woodenly.

John smiled
professionally. ‘The Ambassador will see you now.’ He opened a door
and waved Brian through into another office, stepping in after
him.

Brian was
surprised to see a middle-aged woman at a large desk reading a file
through half glasses. She stood up and smiled briefly at him a
glint of steel in blue eyes. ‘Ah Mr Nicholls, I’m Marjory
Bannister.’ They shook hands and she waved him to a chair. ‘Can I
get you a cup of coffee or water, perhaps?’

Brian shook his
head staring at her. She sat down and shut the file, a small photo
of him was pinned on the corner of the cover - she studied his face
for a moment. John settled in a chair just behind him.

‘John has
explained to you why you are here?’ She asked pleasantly.

‘Something to
do with the Foreign Office?’

‘Yes that’s
right. Your sister has made quite a fuss about your alleged
disappearance and we are asked to verify that you are alive and
well. Would you care to fill us in on the missing details.’

Brian found
himself, for the second time that morning, wearily describing what
had happened to him, although this time he left out all the details
of the bank, Lucy and Evans.

The Ambassador
listened, professional concern on her face.

‘I see and
these thugs that were after you, you say were Kenyan
policemen?’

‘Yes they were,
at least that is what I have been told by Firdus.’

‘I’m sorry who
is Firdus?’

Brian was
surprised at the question. ‘He is Doug’s uncle. We hid out on his
farm and later he flew to Nairobi to make arrangements for us to be
rescued.’

John Sandifer
interjected. ‘Mr Fernandez Ma’am.’

‘Ah yes, go
on,’ she urged Brian pleasantly.

‘Here I am
alive and kicking as you can see.’

‘Yes and a very
good thing that is,’ agreed the envoy. ‘Now our other concerns are
the security issues in this county. Did you ever have the chance to
meet the head of the anti-terrorism unit, a Mr Rubia?’

Brian shook his
head. ‘No.’

‘Unfortunately
the poor man is dead, a heart attack apparently, but we have reason
to believe that the police officers who were trying to do away with
you were from his unit. You’re not engaging in any terrorist
activities are you Mr Nicholls?’

Brian started.
‘What? No, of course not.’

‘It’s alright
Brian,’ she smiled, ‘we have to ask these questions. So why do you
think these people were after you, could it be anything to do with
your job?’

‘I have no
idea, maybe it’s a mistaken identity,’ he said helpfully.

‘Yes they
thought you were Bolton could that be it?’ She responded as
helpfully, with steel in her gaze.

Brian’s blood
ran cold. ‘That was a long time ago.’

‘Yes,’ she
said, ‘turning over a new leaf are we Nicholls, or would that be a
tea leaf?’

‘Listen, you
asked me here because I had been reported missing,’ Brian said
colouring up. ‘I have had policemen in this county trying to kill
me; surely you should be questioning whoever is in charge, instead
of dragging up my past.’

‘Yes,’ she
agreed pleasantly, ‘and you have had quite an ordeal. We are most
concerned when the anti-terrorism unit of our host country pursues
one of our nationals. But, before I take this matter up officially
with the Minister I need to be sure of my footing and that is why
you are here Mr. Nicholls. I need to be assured, that you have not
been engaging in any activities that could later prove to be an
embarrassment to us, or her Majesty’s government, you
understand?’

Brian took a
deep breath. ‘I understand your concern. Listen, I came out to
Kenya to start a new life. I was enjoying my job I have nothing to
hide and I have no idea why these horrible people were hunting me.
I would like to put the whole thing behind me.’

‘Yes we would
very much like that too, Mr. Nicholls. But forgive us if we are a
little puzzled as to why you had to have this awful
experience.’

Brian shook his
head. ‘No idea.’

‘Not the
teeniest idea, even remote? Nothing to do with a girl, is it? Been
arousing jealousy perhaps?’

‘No nothing
like that.’

Marjory stared
at him. ‘I think you’re lying through your teeth,’ she said
conversationally, ‘but I’m not here to prove or disprove your
story. I will make my protests heard to Minister as is my
diplomatic right and there the matter rests, but I would advise you
to tread a careful line from now on.’

Brian said
nothing.

‘That concludes
our interview, you may go.’ She dismissed him. Opening his file and
making notes.

Brian remained
seated. ‘What about my passport?’

She looked up
without interest. ‘Your passport?’

‘The Kenyan
Minister of Security has my passport, and I’m due to fly to England
today to do with my job at the bank.’

‘Why does the
Minister have your passport?’

‘It was taken
from my briefcase when my car was recovered, when I went
missing.’

‘So, can I
suggest you ask him for it?’

‘Can you not
help?’

‘Don’t try my
patience Nicholls. If the truth be known, I have helped you enough.
If you have lost your passport through your own misadventures and
don’t recover it, you can apply for a new one using the correct
channels of my good office. Now if you don’t mind I’m very busy.’
She looked beyond him to Sandifer, a nod of her head.

Sandifer put a
hand on Brian’s shoulder. He shrugged it off angrily. ‘I have to
fly tonight it’s urgent, can you give me travel papers at least?’
Sandifer opened the door and stood beside it expectantly.

‘I have already
given you my answer, now would you be so good as to leave my
office.’ Her blue eyes bored into his. ‘I’m sure you don’t want to
be frog marched out of here.’

Brian got up
and opened his mouth to say something. Her eyes narrowed
dangerously. He pursed his lips, turned his back on her and
followed Sandifer out.

At his flat he
picked up the phone and booked a ticket on British Airways to
London. It had been quite a morning; on top of everything else the
pills were now making him feel nauseous. He decided to go through
the motions and packed his suitcase anyway. He had just finished
when the phone rang; it was Njenga. ‘Brian I have good news. I have
spoken to the Minister and he has agreed to release your passport,
it’s being sent here to the bank. It should be here by four.’ Brian
sat on the edge of his bed and then lay back on it with relief,
thank God he was now getting out of here.

He needed to
move that money as soon as possible. Even if the police picked up
Antonio’s computer, it would take a skilled technician to uncover
the deeply embedded information in the hard drive. Once he was out
of the country he was going to disappear to go somewhere warm he
mused, Spain or even Australia.

 

 

 

 

FORTY-ONE

 

Firdus started
typing out his report for the minister on a computer keyboard. He
checked a few facts with Katana and made adjustments, typing slowly
with one finger. ‘Are you any good at this?’ he asked, pointing at
the keyboard.

Katana grinned.
‘No faster than you.’

Firdus laboured
on doggedly. He reached the end and read over his report.
Satisfied, he printed out three copies, one for the detective
another for his files and the third he sealed in an envelope. He
handed this to the detective and told him to give it to the driver.
‘He must deliver it to the Minister himself,’ Firdus
instructed.

When the
detective returned Firdus looked up and smiled.

‘So what
happens now sir?’ Katana asked.

Firdus got up
and walked over to the sideboard, poured himself a glass of water
and sat down. ‘Detective, as you can see from my report I have
recommended that you continue with the case and pursue these
criminals. I’m sure once the Minister has read his copy, he will
back you up with whatever resources you need. For example, starting
with a trip to Malindi to interview Azizza, or Lucy, you can have
them picked up and brought here, or you can go direct to
Dar-es-Salaam and chase up the lead on Patel.’

Katana looked
puzzled. ‘But what about you sir, what are you going to do?’

‘Hopefully
after I have seen the Minister, I’m going back to my ranch,’ he
said gently, aware of Katana’s concern. ‘I have seen the way you
work detective and I have no doubt that you are more than capable;
besides, this is a wonderful opportunity to get promoted. With
Rubia gone there is a vacuum, until Omollo appoints someone new. As
I explained to you before, I only came in on this to help my nephew
out of a very sticky situation. With your help I have achieved that
and I want to take this opportunity to thank you detective it has
been a pleasure working with you.’

‘I’m not sure
about this sir. Won’t you wait until we catch Patel?’

Firdus smiled.
‘Catch Patel? I doubt very much that you will pin down that tricky
bugger. I have had more than my fair share of Patels in the past.
Professional criminals like him thrive on whatever systems are put
in place. They always manage to find and exploit the loopholes and
with corruption on the rise it’s getting easier for them to do so.
Every day you read about teachers in schools getting caught with
their hands in the till. What kind of example are they setting to
the children under their care?

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