by Dan Fletcher
Gupta’s house was the last one on Diani Beach Road. Overlooking the sandy delta where a small river met the Indian Ocean. The other side of the creek was thick jungle, the odd coconut tree rising above the canopy.
A group of six men wearing shorts were using a square shaped net to catch the fish trapped against the sandbar by the low tide. Their skin the deepest black David had ever seen. Another fisherman was stationed in a canoe shaped boat with a cross-frame connected to wooden floats for stability. From time to time he slapped the surface with his paddle to drive the tiny silver-blue fish skipping across the water into the net.
David turned left up a sandy track heading away from the ocean. He drove past the chain-link fence with grey-rattan matting attached that belonged to Gupta’s property. Gated driveways lead off to four other thatched villas down the track, none of them quite as grand as Gupta’s. After a few hundred yards the track came to an end amongst some palms. David threaded the LandRover between the trees until he was sure that he was out of sight and killed the engine.
He took his pistol from the glove box. David checked that the safety was on and stuffed it into the waistband of his combats. Then he made sure that the gaffa tape, torch and tape recorder where in his rucksack before zipping it shut. David hesitated before opening the door. Although he had stretched the boundaries a little everything he had done so far was strictly speaking legal.
He took a deep breath and turned the handle. Taking care to make as little noise as possible, David locked the dust covered LandRover and made his way over the matt of fallen palm fronds. He stopped behind some bushes at the end of the track and a quick glance confirmed that it was still empty. David slipped out from cover and sauntered down the road.
A couple of the villas were obviously in use, cars in the driveway, towels hanging from the verandas. Voices and splashing coming from what must be the pool of another. Although the rattan was supposed to act as a screen it was old and weathered. As he walked along the track David caught glimpses of Gupta’s place, enough to see that the shutters were closed. He reached the main road and turned left towards the creek. As he walked by the entrance his suspicions were confirmed.
The drive was empty and the house locked up, all the shutters battened and padlocked security gates covered the front door.
David felt his hopes start to fade, Gupta was the only real lead he had. What if the poacher decided to go on the run and not come home? No, David shook his head. Even if Gupta did intend to disappear he would need money and want some of his clothes and possessions. It was only a matter of time before he came back.
There was a rumble from his stomach and David realised that he hadn’t eaten all day. An open stretch of scrubland separated him from the strip of resorts and the beach. Nearest to him was an older cafe set apart from the newer developments. The thatched roof and bamboo walls were more faded than its neighbours. David hooked his thumbs into the straps of his rucksack and walked towards it.
*****
David felt much better after wolfing a steak baguette and washing it down with bottle of water. What he really wanted was another beer but didn’t want to slow down his reactions. While he ate David kept one eye on the entrance to Gupta’s but nobody showed up. After hanging around for a little over an hour, he paid up and thanked the bikini-clad girl behind the counter.
David left the few patrons eating ice creams and drinking sundowners behind him and found a tree near to the creek to sit down. He leant against it facing the river, keeping up the appearance of a holidaymaker enjoying the scenery. As the light faded the fishermen packed away their nets and went home for the night. The beach stretching up the coast in front of him soon became deserted.
He nodded off a few hours later and woke with a start, unsure of how long he had been out. Worried that Gupta might have been and gone whilst he was asleep. The house was still shrouded in darkness and eventually David convinced himself that he was being paranoid. The minutes and hours passed by slowly and David struggled to stay awake. He got to his feet and stretched his legs a few times, wandering over to the creek to splash water on his face. Light gusts of wind brought the sound of faded music from further down the beach in waves, garbled by the noise of the surf. A full moon reflected off the ocean, bathing the surf in an ethereal white light.
As midnight came and went David started to think about what he would do if Gupta didn’t come back. There was still Koinet, but without his boss that was where the trail ended. Against his better judgement David suspected that Tanui was involved, and by the sounds of it so was the head of the GSU. The two goons turning up at the hospital in Narok could be standard procedure but it was too much of a coincidence that they were the same ones he had seen outside KWS headquarters. The more he thought about it the more it made sense that Tanui and Commander Abasi were working together. The GSU officers who had been snooping around must have tipped off the Deputy Director that he wasn’t in Purungat.
A pair of headlights appeared and bobbed their way down the bumpy road towards him. David was instantly on full alert but avoided any movement as the lights drew closer. By the deep-throated sound that the engine made it was something larger than a car, maybe a 4x4.
Eventually the vehicle slowed down and pulled to a stop in front of Gupta’s gates. A tall thin man in flowing robes and turban got out from the driver’s side of what appeared to be some sort of small truck. Possibly a Nissan Atlas guessed David looking at the shape. He went over to the gates and a few seconds later David heard the sound of a chain rattling before they were swung open. As the man turned back towards the truck he was caught in the headlights. David glimpsed a bony face, thin nose and long grey beard before the Indian shielded his face against the glare and got back in the cab.
David bolted across the few hundred yards to the gate. He reached for the handle of the pistol in his waistband and pulled it out before following the truck trundle down the drive. It came to a stop in front of the garage. David crouched behind it and waited for the door to open. His signal was the sound of crunching gravel as the driver’s feet made contact. He rounded the vehicle and shoved the pistol into the man’s back before he could close the door.
“Don’t make a sound. If you do I’ll put a bullet right through your spine.” David pushed the muzzle of his pistol into the man’s back for emphasis. “As long as you do exactly as I say then you won’t be hurt. Nod if you understand me, Mr Gupta.”
The man jerked his head repeatedly, “Yes, yes. Now what is all this about? Who sent you?”
At least he had the right man. David lifted his arm and brought the butt of the pistol down.
Gupta fell to the floor like a sack of lead. David leant over and felt his neck for a pulse but couldn’t find one.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Gupta’s Residence, Mombasa
August 19th, 1996
David started to panic thinking that he must have hit Gupta too hard. Then he felt it, the faintest flicker beneath his fingertips. He sighed with relief and stuffed the gun back into his pants before shrugging out of the straps of his rucksack. He fumbled around, wondering why it was so hard to find the gaffa tape when there were so few items in the bag. Eventually he did and taped the unconscious Gupta’s arms behind his back. He pulled off another strip of tape and covered the poacher’s mouth for good measure.
David searched Gupta’s robes and the ground around him for what seemed like ages but couldn’t find the keys. The process of elimination led him back to the truck, where they were dangling from the ignition. It took him a few minutes to locate the right keys for the metal recas and open the door. He carried Gupta inside and dumped him unceremoniously in the hallway. David closed the front door behind him and turned on his pocket torch. Hooding the beam with his hand he made sure that all the other doors and shutters were firmly shut before finally hitting the light switch.
Gupta started to writhe on the floor and then his eyes opened. At first dull and distant, then realisation must have hit home and they ope
ned wide with terror. He was struggling to say something beneath the gaffa tape.
David ignored him and took in his surroundings. There were a number of doors leading off the tiled hallway. A double set straight ahead that must lead to the back garden and two single doors to his left. Between them a leopard skin hung from the wall, its glassy eyes stared back at him and appeared to come to life for a second in the torchlight.
To the right was a boxed archway with squat granite pillars on either side that led to the lounge. He had a brief look inside but there was nothing suitable, it was all soft-backed sofas and upholstered chairs. Amongst the various hunting trophies a huge buffalo’s head dominated one of the walls, but the centrepiece of the room was above the stone fireplace. Two crossed tusks over six feet in length, held in place with wrought iron brackets. Gupta must be doing well if he could afford to leave them hanging up as decoration. They must be worth at least $15,000 each. David gritted his teeth, and getting more valuable with every elephant that Gupta and his men slaughtered.
David resisted the urge to kick Gupta where he lay and tried the doors on the other side. The first belonged to a long hallway with a series of doors that he guessed were bedrooms. He opened the second one and found what he was looking for.
A few minutes later he had Gupta strapped to one of the kitchen chairs with gaffa tape, arms pinned behind his back. David put his rucksack on the worktop behind Gupta and took out the tape recorder. Coughing to mask the sound he pressed record and set it down quietly. He went around to the other side of the table and pulled the pistol from behind his back, took the safety off and pointed it at Gupta’s chest to get his attention. David took a seat and placed the gun on the surface between them. The evidence might not stand up in court but David didn’t care. He smiled at Gupta, trying to act as if he did this sort of thing all the time.
“I’m only going to give you one shot at this,” David nodded at the gun. “In a moment I’m going to take the tape off your mouth and ask a few questions. If I don’t like the answers that I hear, or you try to shout for help, then this discussion will be terminated. Nod if you agree Mr Gupta.”
Gupta’s eyes bulged like an animal caught in a trap. He twisted his head around as much as he could, as if expecting salvation to be found in the kitchen units. Fortunately he couldn’t turn his head far enough to see the dim red light flashing on the tape recorder. Finally his shoulders slumped, he looked at David and nodded once.
“Good,” maintaining the smile he reached across and ripped the tape from Gupta’s mouth. A significant amount of Gupta’s beard came with it.
“Shit!” Gupta’s face was red raw around his mouth. In almost any other given situation David would have found it amusing. “You bastard, you’ll pay for this!”
David put his hand on the gun, “Now, now, Mr Gupta, I’m trying to be patient but one more little outburst and I really will have to end this interview.”
“You’re either stupid or have no idea who I am! Now untie me and maybe you will be allowed to live!”
“Right now I seem to be the one holding all the aces Mr Gupta.” David twisted his hand so that the butt of the gun was resting on the table and pointing at Gupta’s chest before continuing.
“Maybe I should introduce myself before we go any further. My name is Captain David Nbeke. I’m a ranger in the Kenyan Wildlife Service. A couple of nights ago one of my men was shot dead whilst out on patrol in the Masai Mara.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about! I’ve been in Mombasa for the last...”
“Please,” David held up his hand. “Let me finish before you say anything else. It will save us both a lot of time and you a lot of pain.” David kept his tone neutral, trying to maintain the impression that this was all business as usual. He found himself beginning to get into the role of bad cop as he glared at Gupta.
“On the same night that my officer was murdered we encountered one of your employees in the south of the reserve, attempting to poach the horns of two black rhino. He was shot in the leg during the resulting firefight and taken into custody. When questioned the man identified himself as Koinet and you as his employer. He’s willing to testify and based on what he’s told us I could have you arrested and held without bail until it goes to court.”
The last part was stretching the truth a little but Gupta obviously believed it. He closed his eyes and let out a deep breath before opening them and speaking, “You can’t arrest me. When he finds out that I’m in custody he’ll have me killed. Nobody can touch him.”
The way he said it was matter of fact, a statement.
“Try and concentrate on the present,” David cocked the hammer of his Browning. Untouchable didn’t fit the Deputy Director’s status. He took a gamble, “I’m assuming you mean Commander Abasi?”
Gupta’s nod was barely perceptible and David needed him to respond for the tape recorder, “Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that?”
“Yes, of course I mean Commander Abasi. Who else would I mean?” Gupta shook his head, “You didn’t know, did you?”
“To tell you the truth I wasn’t a hundred percent sure but I am now, thanks.” David smiled, “What about Deputy Director Tanui?”
“Who’s Tanui? I’ve never heard of him.”
Gupta was either a very good actor or he was telling the truth. David decided it was the latter, he had already given up the Commander of the GSU, in comparison the Deputy Director was small fry. If there was a connection between them then it was obvious that Gupta didn’t know anything about it.
“You said earlier that Commander Abasi would have you killed if you were put in jail,” David changed tact, half out of curiosity, half for the benefit of the recorder. “What makes you think that.”
Gupta started to tremble, “Because that’s where he found me in the first place.”
“What do you mean?”
Gupta looked up at the ceiling for a few seconds before answering, “I’ll talk if you can guarantee my protection. I want immunity and safe passage out of the country, with a British or Canadian passport and a new identity.”
David noticed that Gupta wasn’t asking for money. Then he remembered the tusks hanging up in the lounge.
“I can’t offer you a new identity. But we’ll make sure that no harm comes to you until this is all over and Abasi is safely locked away behind bars.”
“That’s not good enough. Haven’t you been listening to me? As long as he’s alive and I’m still in Kenya I won’t be safe.” Gupta’s eyes misted over.
David nodded, “From what you’ve told me Commander Abasi isn’t going to be happy when he finds out that you’ve been talking to me. As far as I’m concerned you deserve to die for what you’ve done but right now you’re more useful to me alive.”
Gupta’s head drooped forward and his eyes seemed to be fixed on the table. Then he began mumbling to himself in what David guessed must be an Indian dialect.
“Let’s start at the beginning,” David leant back in his chair but kept the gun trained on Gupta. “You said that you met Commander Abasi in prison. Is that when you started working for him?”
Gupta didn’t answer.
“I asked you a question!” David slapped the table to get his attention, “When did you start working for Abasi?”
Gupta looked up, his eyes puffy and bloodshot, “I was arrested for poaching and put in Kamiti Maximum Security Prison...”
He paused, as if considering his next statement. “There was a shootout in Tsavo when we were ambushed crossing the border with a shipment of ivory.” He shrugged dismissively, “One of the rangers died.”
So this wasn’t the first time Gupta had killed one of his colleagues. David put the gun down on the desk and rested his hands in his lap. He didn’t trust himself not to pull the trigger and blow the snivelling turd away.
Gupta continued, “Abasi came to prison and said that he could arrange for my release if I agreed to work for him.” He shook his head, “Of course I agreed.
You can’t imagine what it was like in there...the stabbings...the rape...I would have sold my own mother to get out.” His head dropped back down, “Now I know that I would have been better off taking my chances and serving the time. Abasi is like the devil, once he gets his claws into you he never lets go.”
“When did this happen?”
“More than a decade ago.” Gupta sighed, “It was 1982.”
“And you never tried to leave?”
“Others did and they ended up at the bottom of the harbour.” Gupta shook his head, “You can’t run away from him, he has spies everywhere. Like I said, he’s the devil.”
“So you’ve been poaching elephant and rhino for Abasi for around fourteen years?”
Gupta either didn’t notice that David was structuring the questions or didn’t care, “Something like that, does it really matter how long it’s been?”
David leant forward and put his hand back on the Browning, “I’ll decide what’s important and what’s not. So how does it work?”
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t play dumb Mr Gupta. I’m beginning to lose my patience,” he put his finger on the trigger. “How do you get the tusks to Mombasa and where are they shipped to?”
Gupta mumbled something under his breath and then shrugged as if it didn’t matter, “Abasi owns a timber export company. We hide the goods inside pallets of wood and bring them by truck to Kilindini Harbour. From there they are shipped out to Hong Kong.”
David digested what he had just said, “How do you get across the border into Kenya?”
“We come through Holili. The guards there are on Abasi’s payroll. He’s got connections everywhere.”
A few trucks carrying timber from the rich forests in the north of Tanzania to Mombasa probably wouldn’t arouse much suspicion. Abasi was obviously taking extra precautions in paying off the border guards.
“What’s the name of Abasi’s company?”
“The ‘EAST AFRICA TIMBER COMPANY’, there’s a warehouse on the waterfront near the docks.”
