Elephant Dropping (9781301895199) (29 page)

They walked
back up the path. Brian a frown of concentration on his face,
stopped. ‘What if I flee the country, get out of here?’

Doug kept on
walking. ‘You will need a passport.’

Brian’s
shoulders slumped. ‘It was in the range rover.’

‘Well, you can
be sure the police have it now.’

*

On Monday
morning Patel was eager to get a copy of the Kenyan daily
newspaper, but the room steward said the papers would not be
available before nine o’clock.

He collected
his new landcruiser, completed the payment and paperwork and drove
straight round to John’s yard. The two of them went over the
modification. John already had the spare tire. Patel got John to
drop him in the centre of town and they arranged to link up at four
that afternoon.

Patel could
hardly contain his excitement as he bought the newspaper from a
vendor. Standing in the street and quickly scanning it, he failed
to find the item and anxiously scuttled into a coffee house to sit
down and look over the paper more thoroughly. He found the item on
the back page under the headline. “Abandoned car at Lugard’s
falls.

“Yesterday a
range rover, belonging to the NNB bank group was found abandoned at
the tourist site of Lugard’s falls in Tsavo East Park. A spokesman
for the Kenya Wild Service said that rangers were investigating the
matter. The car appeared to be in working order, the keys still in
the ignition. It was entirely possible that the occupant or
occupants had met with an accident at the falls, which would
explain this mystery. A member of the NNB bank said the car was
assigned to an employee of theirs, but declined to give the
name.”

Patel was torn
between being elated and the obvious anomaly that the article was
not proof that Nicholls was in fact dead. Ordering a coffee he rang
Kamau in Kenya.

‘Hello Kamau,
it’s Patel.’

‘Oh I didn’t
recognise this number,’ Kamau replied.

‘It’s
temporary. Now I have just read the article in the Nation.’

‘I expected to
hear from you earlier, ’Kamau complained.

‘Yes very good,
but where is the body?’

‘Probably
inside a few fat crocodiles,’ Kamau’s voice rising as he sensed a
difficulty.

‘How can you be
sure of that?’

‘Look, what is
the problem Patel? We did what you asked. The
mzungu
is
finished.’

‘I appreciate
your help, I just wanted to be sure; after all it has cost me a lot
of money.’

‘You wanted a
rush job, and its done. The guy is a professional and the balance
is due. I hope there won’t be a problem with that?’

‘No there will
be no problem. Have you spoken to your contact?’

‘I’m due to
meet him this evening to settle up as per our arrangements. When do
I get the balance?’

‘I will arrange
it now direct to your account.’

‘Good,’ Kamau
was relieved, ‘you don’t mess about with these people. Are we done,
I’m very busy.’

‘Yes thank
you,’ said Patel and rang off. His instincts told him things were
not right, but he did not take Kamau’s warning lightly. With a sigh
he rang the bank in Malindi to arrange the transfer of the money.
The bank clerk was most helpful, until he asked for the password.
Patel puzzled asked. ‘What password?’

‘This account
has to be accessed by your password sir.’

‘Ahhh yes,
damn, sorry I forgot, let me call you back.’

Patel rang off,
furious. That conniving little bitch. He called her up. ‘Hello
Dear, it’s me,’ he said cheerily.

‘Where the hell
have you been and what’s with this new number?’ Azizza
demanded.

‘It’s just a
precaution,’ he replied smoothly. ‘Listen, I need you to do
something urgently.’

‘I’m sure you
do,’ she replied acidly, ‘you had better explain yourself first.
Let’s start with where are you?’

‘I told you I
had urgent business to attend to. Listen, I need you to transfer
money to Kamau at immigration. It’s really urgent. ‘His request met
with silence, the phone clicked off, he called her back.

‘What are you
doing in Tanzania?’ she demanded, having read the number this time
before answering.

‘Checking on
your password,’ he retorted.

She laughed in
delight. ‘Wanted to run away did you?’

He chuckled.
‘How could I bear to leave you my dear?’

‘So? Explain
yourself.’

Patel lowered
his voice. ‘I can’t tell you much on the phone, but I have arranged
for Kamau to do an important job for us and he must be paid today.
I don’t need the password; just the money needs to get to Nairobi
as soon as possible.’

‘And what if I
refuse? You still haven’t told me why you’re in Tanzania and a few
other things it seems.’

‘Listen, we
don’t have time to argue. Refusing to do the transfer would be a
very silly thing to do,’ he replied, mildly, ‘all our hard work
down the drain.’

‘A drain, oh,
you mean like Lugard’s falls?’

He laughed. ‘My
dear, it’s only three hundred thousand.’

‘You’re a bad
man, Mr Patel. Why should I trust you now?’

‘Trust the
money.’

‘Oh I do, but
I’m not sure I want to share it with you anymore, I might end up
swimming with crocodiles.’

Patel grinned.
Boy this chicka is tough! ‘Now Azizza my dear don’t be cross now,
this is a cause for celebration that silly expatriate is now out of
our way. I will be back in a few days and will explain everything.
You will see how brilliant I am; after all I’m trusting you with
your password aren’t I?’

She scoffed.
‘Brilliant, like this stupid NGO organisation. What are we going to
do with that now?’

‘My dear we are
still on course, the NGO organisation makes it easier for us to
move money around, have I ever let you down?’

‘Ok maybe, but
you must not do this disappearing act again.’

‘I wouldn’t
dream of it dear. See you soon.’

Azizza breathed
a sigh of relief. Patel was still on the hook, he still needed her
password. When she read about the incident at the falls, she knew
intuitively he had something to do with it, and was under no
illusions that he could make her ‘disappear,’ if she gave him
reason enough. By the same token she realised that if he had
disclosed his true intentions to her, she would have resisted the
idea of doing away with Nicholls. Now it was done, distasteful as
it was, it was a brilliant solution to the over talkative
Evans.

She was
reminded of what a good team they made, and the fact that he wasn’t
too upset about the password was an emotional affirmation to her
that she was needed. She arranged the transfer. The clerk informed
her of Patel’s request. ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘he was just forgetful, no
problem.’

Patel still in
Dar-es-Salaam as Shah, arranged the rest of his day, including
meetings with some transport companies at the port. After a light
lunch he returned to the hotel for an afternoon nap before his
meeting at four with John.

He hailed a cab
and went to check on his car. Inserting his hand and arm into each
of the tanks, feeling around, they were quite dry. ‘Good,’ he
muttered.

‘See no leaks,
I told you,’ said John.

‘Yes and you
were right,’ agreed Patel.

‘Good, can we
settle your bill in the office,’ John said.

Patel did not
answer but went round to the front of the car and turned on the
ignition. ‘The fuel gauge doesn’t register.’

‘No, we had to
remove it in order to accommodate the partition, you’ll have to
keep topping up the tank,’ John said over his shoulder as he strode
towards his office.

‘I see,’ Patel
sighed and followed him across the yard.

He drove out of
Dar-es-Salaam getting into Tanga after dark, topped up the tank and
pressed on to the Kenyan border on a dirt road. The big 4x4 held
the road well. At the border as Noordin Shah, he paid a three-month
fee to the Kenyans in order to cross in his Tanzanian registered
vehicle. The customs man was sleepy and drunk and waved him though
with an impatient grunt. Patel got into Mombasa before midnight and
booked himself into a hotel. Tired, he crawled into bed and slept,
glad to be back in Kenya.

THIRTEEN

In the evening
Kamau sat in the bar in Nairobi and waited for Rubia. He had
collected Patel’s funds from the bank and the cash was now in the
boot of his car. Ill at ease, he fidgeted as he watched the car
park from his barstool. ‘Mr Kamau?’ A well-dressed man walked up
and spoke to him.

‘Yes. Who are
you?’ Kamau asked.

‘Sir, I’m from
the counter terrorism office, my name is Daniel. I have been
ordered to collect you and take you to an appointment with Chief
Inspector Rubia.’

‘Really, and
why didn’t he tell me you were coming?’

Daniel
shrugged. ‘Those are my orders. If you have his number you can
confirm it.’

Kamau, thumbed
through his mobile. ‘Hello Joe, yes, there’s a guy called Daniel
here, says I’m to go with him to meet you?’

Rubia answered.
‘Yes sorry about that, but I’m on a stake out and can’t come to you
right now.’

‘Why don’t I
give the package to him?’ Kamau suggested.

‘It’s not that
simple I need to talk to you, I need your help with an immigration
matter.’

‘I’ve had a
long day, we can talk tomorrow.’

‘No, I need to
see you now it won’t take long.’ Rubia hung up.

Kamau frowned
at Daniel. ‘Where is this place, is it far?’

‘No, not far
Sir.’

‘Ok, but I’m
taking my car,’ Kamau was adamant.

‘No problem
sir, just follow me.’ He made his way to a large black 4 x 4 with
heavily tinted windows.

As Kamau looked
at the car, a sense of foreboding came over him. He climbed into
his own vehicle and followed Daniel down the highway. The black car
travelled at a leisurely pace and Kamau began to relax, after all
it was a useful thing to be working with a powerful man like Rubia.
The 4 x 4 turned on a roundabout and headed for the road out of
town towards Naivasha. Kamau rolled up his window to the cold air
as the two vehicles climbed towards the escarpment road. He
switched on his radio and fantasized over what he would spend his
money on, maybe a farm, nothing too big, a few cows and a
retirement patch for his old age. Lost in these pleasant thoughts
in the warmth of the car he did not notice a second car join the
entourage and keep pace following them.

The indicator
light went on and the big car pulled over. Kamau followed it onto
the grass verge, the other car pulled up behind and drove up close
- too close - its headlights blazing into his car. Suddenly the 4 x
4 aggressively backed up boxing Kamau’s vehicle in. The lights went
out. Kamau sat in his car unsure what to do. He rolled down the
window. ‘Hey, what’s happening?’

‘Evening
Kamau,’ Rubia said pleasantly, his breath vaporizing in the cold
air as he stood beside the window.

‘Oh it’s you,’
Kamau said and made to get out of his car.

Rubia held the
door shut. ‘Switch your engine and lights off,’ he instructed.
Kamau did as he was told the radio going silent. Rubia leaned in
the window, his deep voice loud in the inky blackness. ‘Where’s the
money?

‘In the
boot.’

‘Keys?’

He held them
up. A hand, not Rubia’s took them. He shivered and it wasn’t just
the cold air. ‘You’re on a stake out’- the immigration man asked in
the uncomfortable silence - hinges squeaking the noise of the boot
opening was sinister, ‘it’s all there,’ Kamau said.

‘I’m sure,’
Rubia said, his so face close to the immigration man’s, he could
smell booze on his breath. Rubia turned away from the window.
‘Count it,’ he ordered into the darkness. A pen light flashed on
behind the car.

‘So you want
help with immigration?’

‘Yes, I need to
know who hired you,’ Rubia said evenly.

‘I can’t tell
you that.’

‘You can’t tell
me, or you won’t?’

‘It’s not
right,’ protested Kamau weakly.

A voice called
out. ‘It’s all here Sir.’

‘Good. Kamau,
my friend, it’s not for you to know what is right or wrong, just
tell me who the client is and you can go home.’

The immigration
man revealed all he knew about Patel as Rubia quizzed him
closely.

‘Now I told you
we were on a stakeout. The traffic is blocked behind and ahead, we
have word gangsters are going to lay an ambush on this road. So
what you need to do is take the old road to Naivasha.’ Kamau was
startled as his passenger door opened and Daniel lit by the
interior light climbed in beside him. ‘Daniel will accompany you,
he is armed and has a radio, so don’t worry.’

‘Naivasha at
this time, why can’t I drive back down the road?’

‘Not possible.
You will be safe with Daniel.’

‘I need to call
my wife,’ said Kamau stalling.

‘No time!’ He
slammed his palm on the car roof. ‘Now go! Get out of here, the
gangsters are coming!’ The 4 x 4 made room for him and Kamau turned
towards the escarpment road. He was shaking with fright.

‘This is a
dangerous road,’ he said to Daniel.

‘No problem
Sir, it’s not safe for you to stay on this main road, there could
be some shooting.’

‘Really, who
are the gangsters?’

Daniel did not
answer, instead, he thumbed his two-way radio and spoke a few brief
words in a dialect that Kamau did not understand. Kamau
concentrated on driving, slowing down and swerving round potholes.
At one point he made to pull over. ‘I need to call my wife,’ he
explained.

Daniel urged
him on. ‘Keep going Sir, it’s not safe to stop here, you can call
her from Naivasha, it won’t be long.’

They continued
in silence with only the occasional hiss and crackle from Daniel’s
radio. About half way down the escarpment, they rounded a corner to
find a huge lorry jack-knifed across the road, headlights blazing.
‘Blast,’ Kamau said. ‘Now what do we do?’