Dawn of Deception

by Dan Fletcher

  “Unless an investigation proves otherwise all Captain Nbeke is responsible for is trying to do his job. What’s happened is regrettable but there’s no way I’m going to have him arrested on some trumped up charges.” The Deputy Director folded his arms and leant back in the chair. “By all accounts Captain Nbeke prevented four black rhino being slaughtered, killing one of the poachers and taking another into custody in the process. If it wasn’t for the fact that he acted of his own accord Nbeke would probably be receiving a commendation.”

  “Yes.” Maliki smiled briefly. “But he didn’t have authorisation for the mission and men died. The President will want him to resign at the very least.”

  “We’re talking about a man’s career, his life. I won’t do it. If the President wants somebody’s resignation then he can have mine. Captain Nbeke is under my command and my responsibility.” The Deputy Director stood up in front of the desk, “Now if there’s nothing else I’ve got better places to be.”

  Maliki watched him walk towards the door, “You haven’t heard the last of this. Somebody’s head is going to roll, I would advise you not to let it be yours.”

  Tanui paused before opening the door but didn’t turn around, “Good day, Commander.”

  Maliki waited a few minutes to make sure that Tanui had left the building before calling the front desk, “Sergeant go outside and send Lembui up here, and make it quick.” He slammed the phone down for the second time that morning.

  It was a shame for Captain Nbeke’s sake that the Deputy Director hadn’t agreed to his plans. Now Maliki would have to take matters into his own hands. A few minutes later there was a polite tap on the door.

  “Come in!” shouted Maliki, his face twitching with irritation.

  “You wanted to see me, sir?”

  Lembui must have run up the stairs, his huge barrel chest heaved and he was short of breath.

  “I’ve got a job for you Lembui.” Maliki smiled, “One that you’re really going to enjoy. His name’s Captain Nbeke, I think he’s earned himself a trip to the basement.”

  Lembui’s face cracked into a wide grin and his eyes gleamed brightly at the prospect.

  Before Nbeke died Maliki needed to know whether the pain in the ass captain knew anything, or was simply unfortunate enough to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  District Hospital, Narok

  August 17th, 1996

  David wanted to check on Koinet’s condition. The hospital was almost exactly half way to Nairobi so it made sense to stop there. Before leaving he filled the LandRover’s tank and all the spare jerry cans he could find at the ranger’s depot in Serena.

  David arrived in Narok a little under three hours later. He was surprised to find a queue of crawling traffic outside the usually quiet town when he got to the outskirts. The road ahead was partially blocked by crowds of people spilling onto it from a truck stop. As David got closer he could see why. Armed police with riot shields were trying to keep two opposing groups of demonstrators apart. On one side a group of Maasai warriors were chanting and shaking their spears at the Kikuyu opposite them. Most of them were young men under the age of thirty.

  The police had formed a line facing the Kikuyu to keep them back. As David watched a pair of policemen dashed forward and grabbed a shouting youth from the crowd. He was dragged across the ground into the fold of waiting light blue uniforms and swallowed up as they converged around him. Truncheons wielded above the heads of the policemen rained blows down on the unfortunate protestor. A great cheer went up amongst the Maasai warriors and the chanting and dancing increased in tempo.

  Policemen with angry faces were waving the cars forward. The whole scene was a volatile concoction of hatred and testosterone ready to explode at any moment. David kept his head down until he had gone through the bottleneck and breathed a sigh of relief.

  He turned left onto the C57 that went up through the town and continued north to Lake Naivasha. The Saturday market at the junction was in full swing. People going about their business despite the riot taking place less than half a mile away. Streams of shoppers filed down the road between the brighter dressed street sellers and market traders. David slowed down and weaved his way through the throng of pedestrians, vehicles and the odd cyclist.

  David slammed on the brakes to avoid being hit by a matatu, blasting its horn as it cut across the road in front of him. The dented mini-bus came to a jerky stop at the taxi rank beside the maze of stalls, selling everything from fruit to car spares. The conductor hanging from the open sliding door on the side jumped off and shouted at the occupants. Ushering them to disembark. Over twenty people piled out of the back of the fifteen-seat Toyota Hiace and three from the front. Once they were out a couple of the women helped each other strap babies to their backs using knitted shawls. The infants pressed so tightly against their mothers that their legs were bowed out like frogs.

  David realised that the taxi driver had the right idea and started blasting the horn of the LandRover to clear people out of the way. Ten minutes later he pulled up outside the entrance. The hospital didn’t look like much. A series of single storey buildings of various shapes and sizes connected by tin-covered walkways.

  Inside it didn’t get much better. The lights were out and a mixture of nervous patients and angry relatives were swamping the nurse on duty at the reception desk. At the front of the crowd a Maasai in loincloth and beads was arguing with her in Swahili.

  “This is an outrage. I don’t know how you can call this a hospital. How can you perform the operation on my father without electricity?”

  “As I told you already Mr Wachira, mechanics are on their way to fix the generator. Until they arrive there is nothing I can do. Now please go back to the ward so I can deal with somebody else.” She turned to an old lady leaning on the counter for support, “Next.”

  David pushed his way to the front and flashed his ID, “Excuse me, I’m looking for a patient called Koinet. He was brought in by two of my rangers.”

  The plump nurse in her early fifties gave him an appraising look before checking the register. A few loose sheets of paper stuck to a clipboard. Her layers of make-up threatened to crack as she smiled up at him.

  “He’s over in C-block.” She pointed at a set of doors opposite to the one he came in, “Go through there and carry on down the path to the next building. It’s where we keep the private patients.” Her voice dropped a couple of octaves, “If there’s anything else I can do for you just let me know.”

  David gave her his best smile, “I’ll be sure to do that and thanks for your help.” It didn’t hurt to play the game occasionally. Having the nurse on his side might come in useful later.

  He found Damo in the corridor outside Koinet’s room, “How’s the patient doing?”

  Damo looked relieved to see him, “He’s doing OK but still very weak. The surgeon managed to get the bullet out and stitch up the artery. Now they’ve got him on blood transfusions to replace what he’s lost.”

  “Has he said anything? Asked for anyone?”

  “No.” Damo nodded towards the glass panel in the door, “He hasn’t regained consciousness yet.”

  David glanced into the room. Koinet was hooked up to heart and respiratory monitors whose screens were blank.

  “Where’s Rashid?”

  “He’s gone to find something to eat.” Damo lowered his voice, “What are you doing here? I thought that you were going to Nairobi?”

  “I’m on my way,” David went on to explain that Chege and Makori would be arriving soon and that they were to take turns guarding Koinet between them. David didn’t mention his conversation with the Deputy Director, or the fact that he wasn’t supposed to leave the outpost. “Ideally I want two of you outside his room at all times.”

  “You’re expecting trouble then?”

  “At this point I’m not really sure but I think that we should be prepared for the worst. Whoever this Gupta is he’s not going
to be happy when he finds out that Koinet is in custody.”

  “Who are you going to see in Nairobi?”

  “I’d rather not say.” By the way he turned away from him David could tell that he had insulted his friend. “Damo, it’s for your own good. I’ll tell you when the time is right and I’ve got something concrete to go on.”

  “Don’t you think I deserve to know what’s going on?”

  “Yes,” David nodded. “But unfortunately it’s not that simple. I’ll give you a call later when I’m settled.”

  David turned and walked away down the corridor before he had to tell his friend any more lies. Nairobi was only a pit stop, a chance to warn Caitlyn and an excuse to see her briefly. David was going to Mombasa in search of Gupta.

  *****

  David’s back was covered in sweat by the time he got to the centre of Nairobi. It was mid-afternoon and sweltering inside the LandRover. There was no AC and the fans blew in hotter air when he tried them. The windows were down but with traffic at a standstill and not even the hint of a breeze all they did was let in exhaust fumes. David felt like he was being slowly cooked alive.

  He couldn’t help noticing that the city was declining rapidly, on a downwards spiral to rack and ruin. Money that should have been spent on infrastructure and keeping the streets clean was being filtered into a select few Swiss bank accounts. The streets had been much cleaner three years ago when he was there during training.

  Many of the buildings looked rundown and in need of repair. On some of the walls graffiti displayed Moi and other politicians as vultures, feasting on the Kenyan public. Others showed the President’s face behind bars, or slogans such as ‘PEACE’, or ‘I WANT TO BE FREE’. But a lot of them bore the same repeated message in bold capitals that simply read ‘MPs SCREWING KENYANS SINCE 1963’.

  The people walked with their heads down, as if afraid to make eye contact with one another. Although officially speaking David wasn’t supposed to know anything about Karl Marx he did. The term ‘oppressed masses’ came to mind. Moi had banned communism and any teaching related to it in 1982 when he made Kenya a one party state. But copies of Marx’s books still existed. ‘The Communist Manifesto’ was available to read or hire from Kisii library. David had only leafed through the book and never risked signing it out, just in case it was some sort of trick to entrap socialists.

  David began to feel paranoid. He wasn’t sure whether it was the city’s atmosphere or because he was nearing headquarters. He found himself looking in the rear view mirror constantly, checking to see if anybody was following him. He hadn’t seen the two goons in suits or the dark sedan since dropping Bernstein off at the camping site. David’s conscience told him that he should phone the reporter and let him know that he was being watched.

  Finally he turned southwest towards the orphanage and the traffic started to ease up. David tried telling himself that he was going there simply to warn her, but he knew deep down that his motivation was more selfish.

  On the way he spotted a large electrical wholesaler by the roadside and parked in the shade outside. The place was filled to the rafters with all manner of domestic appliances. It took him a while to rummage through the shelves and find the piece of equipment he wanted. A cheap pocket sized tape recorder. A basic model made by SANYO but it would serve its intended purpose well enough. At the counter he bought batteries and spares, as well as two rolls of gaffa tape. If everything went the way he expected it to David was going to need all of the items hastily stuffed into his rucksack.

  Feeling better, his shirt dry and the jeep a more bearable temperature, he continued down Langata Road. The KWS offices were closed on Saturdays so there was little chance of bumping into Tanui, especially at the orphanage. But David still looked away as he passed the main gates to avoid being seen by the Deputy Director or anyone else that might recognise him. Idi Tikolo was the first name that sprung to mind. He would relish the opportunity to drop David in it.

  To avoid having his visit being logged in the register David paid the admission of 300 shillings and drove in through Banda Gate with the tourists. Without markings his jeep blended in well with the locals and tour operators using the smaller side entrance to the park. He turned right onto the dirt track that skirted the edge of the forest, running parallel to the main road on the other side of the perimeter fence.

  A few minutes later he found a gap between the cars parked outside the orphanage and killed the engine. The overheated LandRover wasn’t used to doing long distances and would be grateful of the rest.

  David spotted someone he recognised crossing the courtyard, going from one building to another.

  “Ben,” he shouted to stop him entering a wooden tool shed and jogged past the stone well towards the keeper.

  He turned to face David, “Jambo.” His smile changed into a confused frown, “I didn’t know that anyone was being brought in today?”

  “They’re not,” David shook his head. “I came to see how Ella is doing.” He noticed that Ben referred to the orphans as people rather than animals.

  “She’s doing fine,” he beamed enthusiastically. “One of the elder females took Ella under her wing a few days ago and has been looking after her. The change since then is quite something. They’re down at the waterhole having a bath if you want to see for yourself.”

  David avoided eye contact, “Is Dr Brennan around?”

  “Are you sure that you came to check on Ella?” Ben chuckled before pointing at the track next to the stables, “Just follow the signs, Dr Brennan is with the elephants.”

  “Thanks,” David couldn’t think of a reasonable excuse for wanting to see her so he didn’t say anything and headed straight for the path.

  The waterhole was closer than he expected, tucked away behind the buildings with just a small copse of trees separating them. A muddy red bowl with a tiny pool of churned up water in the centre. Although she stuck close to her matriarch Ella was playing with the younger elephants, spraying mud at them with her trunk and rolling around in the clay. She bore no resemblance to the dejected little soul he had brought into the orphanage.

  Caitlyn was under the shade of an acacia tree next to the mud bath. Her back was to him, talking to one of the keepers as they examined the foot of a young elephant.

  David called out to warn them of his approach.

  “Hi, Ben told me I might find you here.”

  Caitlyn glanced over her shoulder and smiled before continuing what she was saying to the keeper, “It’s healing nicely, just keep up the walks twice a day and he’ll have full mobility in no time.” She stood up and patted the elephant on the back.

  “What happened to him?” David stroked the calf’s leathery hide.

  “Poachers of course,” Caitlyn shook her head. “We found this poor thing in Voi caught in a snare. I know that people are hungry but there are more humane ways of killing an animal.” She gave the elephant a final pat and turned to look at him, “So what are you doing back here?”

  David lowered his voice, “I came to warn you.”

  She tilted her head to one side, “Oh, what about?”

  “I’d rather not talk about it here,” he glanced at the keeper nearest to them.

  “I see,” she smiled nervously. “In that case you might as well walk with me back to the stables.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “So what’s all this about?”

  “Err...well...” David could feel his cheeks going red. “Like I said I just wanted to make sure that you were OK.”

  Caitlyn laughed, “So you’re worried about me are you? Why’s that”

  “One of my Rangers was killed last night in a raid by poachers and other people’s lives might be at risk,” David paused. “Maybe even yours.”

  Her smile disappeared, “Oh God, I’m so sorry David. But what does his death have to do with me?”

  “We were watching Rhino, waiting for the poachers, based on information given to us by Spencer.” David swallowed,
“I’m worried that whoever’s behind this will put the connection between the three of us together.”

  “Do you have any suspects?”

  “Maybe,” knowing about Gupta would only put her in more danger. “I’m on my way to Mombasa to find out for certain.”

  “Oh,” her eyes widened. “Will you be OK?”

  David nodded, “I’ll be fine, but I’d like you to keep away from the orphanage for a while. Stay somewhere safe, at least until this is all over.”

  She shook her head. “Nobody’s scaring me away from my work, or telling me what to do for that matter. It’s unlikely that anyone will make connect me to Spencer. We were only together for a few months, and nobody here knew anything about him. I’ll take my chances.”

  David realised by the tone of her voice and the thrust of her chin that she wasn’t going to change her mind. He shrugged, “I suppose you’re right. Maybe I shouldn’t have come. I just didn’t know how else to contact you.”

  “Are you asking for my phone number?” Caitlyn smiled mischievously.

  “If you’re offering,” he couldn’t help but smile back.

  “So what did you think of Spencer?”

  He could see Caitlyn watching him out of the corner of his eye as they walked up the path.

  “He’s quite something,” David wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say about her ex-boyfriend. He felt like he was being tested.

  “That’s one way of putting it,” Caitlyn smiled briefly. “I’m sorry that you lost one of your men,” she slipped her arm through his and squeezed, the contact sent electrical pulses to his brain. “Were you close to him?”

  “I suppose,” David realised he didn’t know Haji that well despite working with him for over two years. “We spent a lot of time together. He comes from a fishing village somewhere near Mombasa.”

  “I see.”

  There was an awkward silence, as neither knew what to say next. Funny how death does that, maybe it’s the realisation that we’re not immortal. Caitlyn finally spoke as they stopped next to the stables.