Wizard of the Crow (48 page)

“Machokali … were he and Nyawlra acquainted?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“But Machokali used to call you at your office?”

“Yes.”

“And all his calls went through the receptionist.”

“Sometimes. But he also called me direct. I would say most times.”

“Did Machokali ever visit you in your office?”

“Yes, but not often. Only when passing through this side of Santa-maria. Eldares is a big city, you know. Several towns in one, if you ask me.”

“And so if Machokali and Nyawlra had made private arrangements to meet elsewhere in this city, which, as you say, contains multitudes, you would not know, would you?”

“That is right, but I somehow don’t think they ever met outside my office.”

“But if they did, you would not know?”

“That’s right.”

“When was Machokali’s last visit to Santamaria?”

Tajirika hesitated. He could not remember whether their last encounter was supposed to be a secret or not. But he decided to err on the side of truth. Besides, deep down he did not mind showing this police officer that he, Tajirika, was well connected, that Machokali was his friend.

“He came to see me just before he and the Buler left for the USA.”

“He came to the office?”

“No. We met at the Mars Cafe.”

“So he did not come to the office to say good-bye to Nyawlra?”

“I think that Nyawlra had fled by then.”

“But you have already admitted that if they had made secret plans to meet, you would not know?”

“I really and honestly don’t think they met.”

“How can you be so sure? Did you know where Nyawlra was then hiding?”

“No.”

“And you were not with the minister all the time, everywhere?”

“No.”

“No to what?”

“To the suggestion that I might have been with the minister the whole day. We met at the Mars Cafe, and after our talk he left me there.”

“So all that you can say is that you never saw them meet?”

“Yes, but that does not mean that I believe that they did,” Tajirika continued assertively, sensing a trap.

“But you cannot swear in a court of law that they never met on that or any other day?”

“That I cannot swear,” Tajirika hastened to say, alarmed at the mention of a law court.

“What was the purpose of his visit? Why did he want to meet with you?”

“He came to say good-bye.
We are friends.”

“Nothing else?”

“Nothing.”

“Let’s go back to your illness. You say that you were taken to a witch doctor for a cure. Who took you there?”

“My wife, Vinjinia.”

“How did she come to know of the witch doctor?”

“The secretary told her about him.”

“Nyawlra?”

“Yes. Nyawlra.”

“So in everything, be it your business or personal and family matters, this Nyawlra was somewhere in the background? A chief personal and family adviser?”

“Please spare me the name. Were I, with all that I now know, to catch that Nyawlra woman, I …”

“… would wring her neck until she was dead,” Elijah Njoya finished the sentence as if echoing him in mockery. “I know exactly what you would do powered with hindsight, and I commend you for it. Now, Mr. Tajirika, let’s be serious. I want to assure you that you have been very helpful and that if you continue cooperating with us you will see a change in your circumstances. The only thing I would warn you against are lies.
Remember? Only the truth shall make you free.
Are you sure that you have told me everything?”

“I have told you all the truth I know.”

“There is nothing you are holding back, a little detail, anything?”

“Nothing.”

“And by the way, what is the name of the sorcerer who cured you?”

The question caught him unawares. He was about to say the name, Wizard of the Crow, when the implications of revealing it suddenly struck him. Money. The three bags of money. What if the diviner revealed the existence of the three bags of Burl notes and,
worst of all, that they were “visiting cards” from those who hoped for later gains from Marching to Heaven? The last thing Tajirika wanted anybody else to know was that he had already pocketed money from a scheme involving the Ruler. The three bags of Burl notes must remain a secret buried forever in the innermost recesses of his head.

“I don’t know his name.”

“Are you sure? You don’t know the sorcerer’s name?”

“A diviner is simply known as Diviner. I am not alone in this. Many who visit these healers don’t bother to remember their names. A diviner is not exactly someone you would have over for a party or a tete-ä-tete in your office.”

Njoya laughed at this.

“You have a sense of humor, Tajirika.”

“Thank you, Mr. Officer …”

“Call me Elijah. Your friend.”

“Elijah, my friend,” said Tajirika. “Can I go now?”

“Why not? Let me see about your
transportation. Good luck,
Mr. Tajirika.”

At first Tajirika felt a sudden depression at being left alone. But as he reviewed the encounter, he felt relief and even triumph as he realized that not only had he deftly thwarted all attempts to link him to NyawTra, the queuing mania, and Machokali’s supposed plots, he had also avoided telling details of his illness, had gotten away with lying about the name of the Wizard of the Crow, and, most important, had not revealed anything about the three bags of money. Besides, he had won Njoya over and turned him into a friend and by tomorrow he would be lying in his own bed in Golden Heights.

But his new friend Njoya did not come back that night or the next or any other, for that matter, until Tajirika stopped trying to measure the passage of time. And then one day they came for him and blinded him as before, and when later they removed the blindfold he found himself seated in the lone chair in an otherwise empty room, amid a
circle of light. All else was darkness. At the edges of the circle of light he saw what looked like traces of fresh and dried blood, confirming his worst fears. They were going to do to him what they had done to countless others, whose blood on the cement floor attested to their menace. He got up and wandered into the darkness in a daze. The spotlight followed him, and out of still more darkness came a voice.

“Who told you to get up?”

“Who are you?” Tajirika asked in terror, stopping dead in his tracks.

“I am Superintendent Kahiga, Peter Kahiga.”

“Where is Njoya, Superintendent Njoya? He promised me … What happened to my transportation?”

“That all depends on your answers to my questions.”

“I have already told you all that I know. What have I left unsaid?”

“Only you can tell us. And I want you to know that I am hardly as understanding as Njoya. I am not easily swayed by tears. I am as hard as a rock. If you fool around, your feet will soon be hanging from the roof.”

What do you want from me?” Tajirika asked, getting an eerie feeling as he addressed the disembodied voice.

“Back in your chair,” the voice demanded.

Engulfed by light, Tajirika did as he was told.

“Answer all my questions, even the least. Why did you really go to the witch doctor?”

“You mean the diviner? I told Njoya that I had gone there because I was ill.”

“How would you say you felt after he healed you?”

“At peace. Happy”

“So you were elated by the person who healed you?”

Would you be sad after being healed?”

“I ask the questions around here, do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“And, now, Tajirika, having been healed so well that you felt so good, so peaceful, so happy, were you not even mildly curious about the person who had wrought such wonders? Not curious enough at least to learn his name?”

Tajirika felt pushed into a tight corner. He had lied about not
knowing the name of the man who had healed him for what he then thought were good reasons. But now he started questioning the wisdom of his lies. It seemed as if the unseen Kahiga knew something about the diviner. Had his wife, under threat of torture, told about the money? No matter what, Tajirika would stick to his story.

“I just forgot his name. Everybody forgets things sometimes.”

He had not expected the blow, and so when it came, a full and forceful slap across his face, Tajirika saw a thousand stars in the darkness of his mind. His instinct, when the dizziness subsided, was to rise and fight, but how do you fight a shadow in the dark? He felt tears of rage and frustration streaming down his face.

“Why did you hit me? I have not refused to answer any of your questions!”

“I told you that my name is Peter Kahiga, not Elijah Njoya. Come clean with me. I’m not here to play word games.”

“I have nothing to hide.”

“And you still claim not to remember the name of your witch doctor?”

“No. Forgetfulness is not a crime.”

“I will bring you friends to help jump-start your memory …”

Even as Kahiga was completing his sentence, Tajirika felt presences behind him, but before he could turn around two of the men grabbed him by the shoulders and the neck and pinned him against the back of the chair. The third yanked Tajirika’s hand behind him while a fourth stuck a needle under the nail of his index finger. Tajirika struggled, but pointlessly

“I beg you, stop. I’ll try to remember. What do you want to know?” he asked the men in the shadows.

“How many times must I repeat myself?” the voice in the dark asked. “We want to know everything about the witch doctor, or whatever you choose to call him. I mean everything, every word he said to you, the number of times you met, even the clothes he wore.”

“Then ask your men to take their hands off me,” he said.

“What men?” Kahiga asked. “No one is touching you. Are you hallucinating?”

Tajirika was able to move his hands freely. He quickly turned his head around and saw no one. Am I out of my mind? Or are they playing mind tricks?

“Where are the men who were just here?” Tajirika asked.

“They have gone back whence they came, but they will surely return if you don’t stop asking questions. Now about the witch doctor …”

“I met him only once. The clothes he wore, I cannot remember, but I think, well, I only saw his face.”

“And his name?”

They were definitely on to something, he sensed: there was no point in claiming loss of memory anymore.

“The Wizard of the Crow. That is his name.”

“And why didn’t you say so earlier?”

“The effects of aging. As you get older, memory weakens.”

“Is there anything else about the Wizard of the Crow that you want to tell me? Aside from your cure, what else did you two talk about? Did he mention Nyawlra or Machokali or anybody like that? Have you been to see him since he came back to Eldares from wherever he went?”

Tajirika did not know what they knew and didn’t, especially about the three bags of money. Should he continue to hold back? How could he account for the witch doctor’s possession of his money? He could see where they were headed. If he could give the witch doctor three bags of Burl notes, surely he must have hundreds of them hidden in his house or at his farm. Upon not finding the money they might kill him out of frustration anyway. So Tajirika decided to hang tough. He now knew what to say.

“To tell the truth, I have not met with this Wizard of the Crow since the day he healed me. I did not even know that he had left Eldares and come back. But there was one other thing that he and I discussed, and you can understand that the subject is a little embarrassing since it has to do with property. Just before I left the shrine I asked him to arm me with protective magic so that my property would not be blown away by the wind and my life would meet with no harm from my enemies. In short, I asked and got protective magic against harm to my life and property.”

An awkward silence followed this disclosure. Despite the fact that he could not see Peter Kahiga, Tajirika felt that what he had said about magic had had some effect on his inquisitor, whose next question was not about the Wizard of the Crow.

“Now, what about Machokali? Know this: if you lie to me again, there is no magic in the world that can protect you from my wrath.
Now,
why did Machokali come to see you in Santamaria?”

“To say good-bye. Isn’t that what I told Njoya?”

“Stop answering me with questions. Tell us what took place between you two, word for word. And don’t take this matter lightly”

Tajirika told the story of his meeting with Machokali at the Mars Cafe, mentioning that the minister was curious about the kind of questions Vinjinia had been asked when she was in custody.

“Why did he want to know that?”

“I don’t know. He did not say. And I did not ask him.”

“What did you tell him?”

“Just what Vinjinia herself told me: that the questions were mostly about Nyawlra.”

“How did he react when you mentioned Nyawlra?”

“He said that she was the biggest enemy of the State and if one is asked any questions about her one should tell all one knows.”

“That’s all?”

“Yes. I don’t think he was particularly interested in talking about Nyawlra. He just wanted to see her in custody. I remember him consoling me and telling me that I should not worry myself to death over the fact that I had employed her. The sins of the employed cannot be visited upon the employer. Or something to that effect.”

“So when he saw you show concern and remorse over the fact that you had engaged the services of a traitor, he, the minister, was telling you not to worry?”

“Not in the way you’re putting it. He consoled me because he saw that I was badly shaken by the discovery of Nyawlra’s true identity.”

“He himself did not show any anxiety over the matter? He was quite calm even though he knew that a traitor had eluded the police?”

“No, he did not seem anxious about her.”

“He did not show any anger at Nyawlra’s treachery?”

“It is not as if we talked about Nyawlra all the time.”

“What else did you talk about, then?”

Tajirika said, among other things, that Machokali did let him know that Kaniürü was going to be deputy of Marching to Heaven.