Elephant Dropping (9781301895199) (65 page)

‘If that’s the
case then what’s the point in arresting Patel?’ Katana looked truly
puzzled.

Firdus
chuckled. ‘If Patel is arrested then the whole case becomes much
clearer. His fraudulent acquisition of the title deeds clears the
government of some responsibility and they can then claim the title
deeds back from the bank, in which case the bank would then be the
loser.’

‘So the bank
had better hope we don’t arrest Patel?’

‘Yes, now you
can see how crafty he has been.’

‘I don’t care,’
said Katana, ‘I’m going to get him. He stole that land from poor
and landless Kenyans!’

‘Yes he did,
and you must keep reminding the Minister of that fact.’ Good luck
in Dar-es-Salaam tomorrow.’ They shook hands warmly. ‘You know
where to find me.’

FORTY-TWO

Patel stretched
out luxuriously on the king size bed. He ordered breakfast then had
a shower. Later, he decided soberly that to go to his family now
was not such a good idea. His original escape plan in tatters, he
knew intuitively that the authorities were bound to pick up
Azizza.

He could not
afford to take that risk; he had plenty of money from the sale of
his factory, as well as money he had transferred legitimately for
the purposes of educating his children. He weighed up all the facts
and then called his wife.

‘Are you here?’
She asked excitedly.

‘No my dear,
I’m still in London. Listen I have been thinking, it’s time we had
a holiday.’

‘Holiday? What
do you mean?’

‘I want you and
the boys to come to London.’

‘To London? But
they have school Jugdish,’ she protested, ‘the end of term is eight
weeks away.’

‘Never mind, I
want to take you and the boys on a trip round Europe, this is a far
better way to get an education,’ he fiddled distractedly with the
desk drawer and took out a brochure, ‘we can all go to Euro
Disney,’ he enthused.

‘What? This is
all so sudden, why don’t you come home first, we can discuss it and
make proper plans. The boys are about to leave for school, I have
to get them ready.’

‘No,’ he said
firmly, ‘I have made up my mind, they are not to go to school
today. I want you to get on a coach, one that goes direct to
Heathrow airport. You don’t need to pack very much, just the
essentials and don’t forget the passports.’

‘But this is
madness, we can’t just get up and leave just like that! All my
friends are expecting to meet you, what will I say to them?’

‘Friends?’
Patel grimaced at the idea. ‘Sweetheart, I have been working so
hard, this is an adventure, surely you wouldn’t want to spoil my
surprise would you?’

‘No, but
Jugdish.’

‘If we think
about it too much, we will find reasons not to go, just see it as a
safari, it will be so much fun. I only want to spend time with you
and the boys. Come on my dear you can do it,’ he encouraged
her.

‘But Jugdish,
you could have told me yesterday.’

‘I could have
but I had not thought of it then my dear.’

‘What about the
boy’s school? They won’t just let them leave like that. They are
very strict about things like that.’

‘So don’t tell
them then my dear,’ he laughed.

‘Oh, you are
such a rogue,’ she laughed with him.

‘That’s better
my dear, you have forgotten that life is about freedom, this little
trip will be a good reminder, eh?’

‘How long will
we be away?’

‘Oh at least
ten days,’ he said breezily, ‘and I have another wonderful surprise
for you.’

‘Oh what is
it?’

‘Aha, you’d
better get packed and get on that coach if you want to find out
sweetheart.’

‘Where do I
catch this coach from,’ she asked in a panic.

‘The coach
station, just order a taxi and at the ticket office ask for the
express to Heathrow airport. Stay on the bus until you get there.
It’s easy, I will meet you, don’t worry.’

‘Ok, we had
better hurry there’s lots to do.’

‘Yes my dear
and don’t tell anyone where you’re going.’

‘Why what’s
wrong?’

‘Nothing, I’m
just thinking it will be more of an adventure, leave them all
wondering.’

‘Oh sometimes
you’re so silly.’

‘Yes but that’s
why you love me isn’t it my dear?’

‘Yes, it is. Ok
I had better go, the boys will be surprised!’

‘Good, see you
in a few hours, my love.’ Patel finished his coffee and went
downstairs to a travel agents office in the foyer. He explained
what he wanted and over the next thirty minutes, they worked out a
travel package for him and his family. Three days at Euro Disney in
Paris, then overnight by train to Zurich for one night, where he
planned to open a bank account and then on to Venice by coach for
two nights, then a short flight to Barcelona, putting up in a
medium hotel for another three nights.

‘That should do
nicely,’ said Patel.

‘Yes sir what
about your return trip?’

‘Oh don’t worry
about that, I have other plans.’

‘Very good sir
and how will you be paying for this?’

Patel handed
over his credit card with a smile.

*

Brian collected
his passport from the bank and caught the overnight flight to
London. He landed at Heathrow on time and joined a line going
through immigration.

‘Mr.
Nicholls?’A voice called out. Brian looked round to see two men
looking at him. One of them was holding what looked like an
oversize mobile phone with an aerial. ‘I think you need to come
with us sir,’ the man said pleasantly.

‘Who are you?’
Brian asked.

‘I’m Detective
Hardy and this is PC Watkins from immigration.’ Hardy’s light
coloured eyes, pupils disconcertingly small, like pin pricks, bored
into Brian’s.

‘What do you
want with me?

Hardy laughed
nastily. ‘Ok games up Nicholls. We are taking you to the police
station at the airport.’

‘Why? What am I
being charged with?’

‘Would you care
to put these on,’ the detective handed over a set of handcuffs.
‘I’m sure you know how they fit.’

Brian looked at
the proffered cuffs. ‘I don’t think so,’ he said, not taking them,
‘I need to talk to my lawyer.’

‘Sir, I’m not
asking you.’ He held out the cuffs.

Hardy led the
way to an unmarked car where a driver sat waiting. The detective
opened the back door and guided Brian in, he slid in beside him.
‘Ok, let’s go,’ Hardy told the driver.

‘You can’t do
this, I know my rights,’ said Brian.

‘All I know is
that my missus was ready to give it to me when I got the call to
come and look for you. If that were not bad enough, I also missed
my breakfast, so I couldn’t give a shit what happens to you, so
save it for the next poor sod who has to deal with you.’

*

Marjory
Bannister in her office liked to read her mail first thing. The
letter she now had in her hand had her angry and confused. She read
it again, trying to make sense of it. She pressed her intercom and
spoke to the secretary. ‘Is John Sandifer in yet?’ Putting the
letter to one side she continued to read her other mail. Presently
there was a discreet knock on her door and John put his head round.
He still looked half asleep. ‘You wanted to see me ma’am?’

‘Yes come in,
shall I order you coffee?’ Not waiting for an answer she rang the
secretary. She turned to him. ‘Late night?’

He sighed,
avoiding her stare.

‘What do you
make of this?’ She handed him the letter.

Sandifer read
it through quickly. ‘Strange,’ he commented and handed it back to
her; they were interrupted by the arrival of the coffee and tea,
John gratefully took his cup, his hand trembling.

Marjory frowned
as she saw the shake. ‘Nicholls caught the flight to London last
night?’

‘Yes we had
someone at the airport who confirmed he went through immigration,’
John agreed nodding emphatically, his coffee almost slopping over
the rim of the cup.

‘So he had his
passport, which makes this letter seem very odd indeed,’ she tapped
it with a bright red fingernail.

John stared at
the finger and the letter as though he would read an answer. ‘Yes
rather odd,’ he offered nervously.

‘Why would the
Minister hand back his passport and then demand from us that he be
extradited from Britain?’

‘I wasn’t privy
to your conversation with the Minister at the funeral,’ said
Sandifer a little defensively.

‘That’s not
true; I told you in the car what we had discussed. The Minister had
agreed to let Nicholls go, assuming we would pick him up in London
to answer to an embezzlement charge.’

‘Yes Ma’am, is
that what you want us to do, pick him up?’

‘Why don’t you
hurry up and do that, so we can make sense of this conversation?’
He returned after a few moments, clutching papers in his hands.

‘The flight is
about to land, what do you want them to do?’

‘Good, hold him
until we decide how to play this,’ she waved the letter. Sandifer
hesitated and took in the Ambassador’s glare and raised
eyebrows.

‘Ma’am? I have
something from the Ministry of Agriculture. You had better read it,
it’s quite long,’ he handed over the papers. Her nose wrinkled as
she got a whiff of his late night. She read the letter, it was to
do with a British aid project, some fifty tractors and farm
equipment that England had agreed to donate for rural communities
around the country; and copies of temporary work permits for six
British nationals employed by H.M Government to implement the
projects.

These tractors
were due in the port city of Mombasa in three days time. But Omollo
from the Ministry of Security had instructed the agricultural
ministry that they should not be allowed to land on Kenyan soil,
until the British Government had fulfilled obligations requested by
his good office.

What an earth
were they talking about? She asked to be put through to Omollo and
read the letter again as she waited.

‘Hello, Rupert
Omollo.’ He announced himself.

‘Yes Mr. Omollo
this is Marjory Bannister.’

‘Ah hello, and
what can I do for you Ambassador?’

‘I have your
letter regarding Nicholls here on my desk.’

Omollo
chuckled. ‘Yes ambassador we now have evidence from a seized
computer that Mr. Nicholls has stolen funds from a valid client of
the bank in which he worked in Malindi and,’ he paused, ‘we want
the money back.’

‘I see,’
replied Marjory, there was a moment of silence.

‘And you want
to have Nicholls extradited?’

‘If we have to,
yes, we will demand that that be the case,’ he replied
smoothly.

‘I see,’ there
was steel in Marjory’s voice, ‘and this other letter from the
Ministry of Agriculture is also to do with Nicholls’
extradition.’

‘Exactly,
that’s the ticket,’ the Minister agreed chuckling.

‘Minister
Omollo this is tantamount to blackmail. One thing has nothing to do
with the other.’

‘Those are
harsh words Ambassador, blackmail? No, in our culture,
traditionally it’s known as insurance, if you like,’ he laughed
long and loud. She held the phone away from her ear distastefully
and waited for him to stop.

‘You can’t be
serious. You’re holding up an aid project - a gift from our
government to your people, to improve their lives - in order to try
to force us to extradite Nicholls?’

‘Yes,’ he
agreed happily. ‘Now you will have noticed that we have not cc’d
the letter to your Agricultural Minister - not yet anyway - and
while you sit on your self-righteous pedestal, this so called gift
of yours to us poor Africans, is nothing more than recycling taxes
to promote and pay for the manufacture of tractors in your own
country, as well as create employment for your own nationals - who
you will later tax once more. I’m sure if I send a copy of this
letter to your Ministry, there will be an immediate reaction with
significant embarrassment to your good office.’

Marjory took a
deep breath. ‘Mr. Omollo my government takes a very dim view of any
attempts at blackmail, call it what you will, that is what it
amounts to. Now I presume that, having carefully thought about it,
you have found a more amenable solution to this pending
brouhaha?’

‘Yes I can shed
light on your dim view. It’s very, very simple. Get the money that
Nicholls stole back to us and all will be forgiven, at least from
our side.’

‘I see, but I’m
not sure that this can be done, after all how can we be sure that
Nicholls is guilty? And if so - and we do find the money - what
guarantee is there that money will be returned to its rightful
owners?’

‘Guarantee? You
have a nerve Ambassador, this money is not yours to distribute.
It’s been stolen by one of your own nationals, and it must be
returned to Kenya.’

‘So Minister,
you want the stolen money returned?’

‘Correct.’

‘And what about
your orders for an extradition?’

‘Yes, if you
don’t get the money to us, we will have to persuade Nicholls to
come clean here. I’m sure your more civilised methods would be more
effective.’

‘And if we
comply with your wishes, this aid Project will go ahead as
planned?’

‘Of course, you
have my word on that. As I said, it’s all very simple, like us
Africans.’

‘It’s a very
irregular request Minister, but I will see what I can do,’ Marjory
replied over politely.

‘Good. Now my
dear Ambassador, I will expect a positive answer from you by the
end of this working day; and just so you don’t dally, I’m sure you
wish to enjoy that retirement home you have recently bought on the
shores of Lake Naivasha, rather than be a persona non grata in this
beautiful country of ours. Are we all done? I’m a busy man.’