by Carl Hancock
Alex lowered his gun and grasped his old friend’s arm tightly. His stomach was still churning and his heart racing as his terror began to subside. He stood in awe at Bertie’s casual confidence. Bertie himself sat on the top step, cleared his throat and began.
‘My friends, we have a dilemma here. What can we do with you … policemen? Whatever. But you cannot invade innocent people’s homes at dead of night.’
‘You taught us these bad ways when you or your friends took off our boss. You have him hidden here? Or have you killed him?’
‘You mean bone by bone? Not so. Not guilty. But whoever managed to prise him away, well, he has our blessing. Anyway.’
‘We are twelve. We have two police vehicles. Too hard to hide.’
‘Not so either. Here’s the choice for us. We each put a single bullet up the spout. Eight down. Then reload for the remaining four gentlemen! Yes, we are well prepared. We shoot you in the head, strip you, drive you ‘round to the far side of the lake. We know just the place where there are many hungry little fishes. We burn your cars and drop them into the lake and disturb a few hippos. All finished before dawn!’
One or two of the younger prisoners began to shudder and to sob. Bertie consoled them.
‘But we are not barbarians. We will not harm a hair on your heads. I have a friend. He lives close by. Until a few years ago, before the flowers came to the lake, he owned a vineyard here. Made good wine. To keep it cool and safe he got his men to dig out cellars out of the rocks. Six in all. I inspected them just last week. I won’t tell you why. Heavy doors and the lights are still working. Lo and behold, the keys.’
He stood up. His tone changed dramatically. He was firm and threatening.
‘One at a time you will stand up and take off your clothes.
Keep your underwear, boots and socks. We presume you all carry that policeman’s best friend, a strong pair of handcuffs. You may keep those, too, carried on your very own wrists. Then we will escort you to your accommodation. Yes, it is cold, but not as cold as the waters of the lake.’
The reaction of the prisoners on the walk across the fields varied. Four tramped in silence. Boss man ranted and raved, spat and cursed. The others, the youngest and the oldest, walked submissively, seeking assurances that that they would be unharmed and freed soon.
Bertie promised nothing.
‘Just remember that if something should happen to us, then there will be nobody to check on you, and, more important for you, to make sure you eat. You can shout as much as you like. No one will hear you.’ He added with an angry warning. ‘And, do not forget that you are getting a much better deal than you deserve, you bunch of savages.’
At breakfast around the large oak table in Londiani, the atmosphere was one of relief, not of triumph. Maria had been home to fetch her ointments and her powders. The damage to Hosea’s fingers was less than she had feared. The large sofa on the veranda was the hospital bed and soon she was singing her ancient melodies in the Aramaic language that soothed the minds of the two patients, but of everyone who heard them. Bertie was assuring them all about the security of the cells.
‘If you three had gone back to Gilgil last night, that bit of cheek would not have worked.’
Maria’s voice called out from the next room.
‘Synchronicity, Bertie! It never stops! That’s why we are going to win out!’
‘By the way, where’s Tom?’
Alex smiled. ‘Bertie, did you notice that the cars have gone? Tom and Stephen are over the yard, doing a little paint job. Plenty of room over there to hide them in a corner, in case they send another lot of snoopers.’
Alex hesitated and took a wry sidelong look at his schoolboy friend before continuing.
‘Bertie, how long have we known each other?’
‘Ah? Forever, thank the Lord!’
‘It’s just that I’ve never seen you like that before - smooth, calm, like a Naivasha version of James Bond.’
‘Put it like this. You remember that new bottle of Famous Grouse on my sideboard?’
‘The one we were keeping till the trial?’
‘Well it’s half empty now! Two long pulls and I was ready to take a few scalps. The lads were fantastic. Glad they didn’t have to fire at anything. Thought you were going to ask me about the cellars in Johnny de Souza’s old vineyard, me checking them over and all that. Tell you the truth, I was thinking of us hiding in them, if the balloon went up.’
For the next two weeks, life in Naivasha slid back into a kind of normality. The dead were given the funerals of heroes. Some of the bereaved families reluctantly moved away further north.
The newly planted garden in Londiani looked healthy and happy and sprigs of bright colours were beginning to peep out of the rich soil of the farm.
Over at the hospital site progress was fast. Jim had had to turn away skilled volunteers for fear of having too many people working at one time who would most likely begin to get in each other’s way.
One mystery was that, as far as they could judge, no one turned up at the farm to ask about the disappearance of the platoon of the boys in blue. Their uniforms had been laundered and the contents of the pockets locked away. Perhaps undercover agents had been sent to find where the missing men were. Perhaps they had not been proper policemen at all. Perhaps an entry had been made in the personnel rosters, saying something like ‘lost in action’.
With each day that passed on the way to the fateful Monday, the tension became more taut. Paradoxically, as the days were counted down, there was also a growing sense of relief that the moment of make or break was closer.
On the first Saturday of their imprisonment, two policemen sharing a cell received a visitor. Inspector Victor and Constable Joseph were surprised to hear a key turn in the lock of their door and shocked when they recognised standing in front of them the wife of the sergeant whom they had been brutalising. She was coming to take her revenge.
They scrambled to the far corner. Maria smiled at their predictable reaction. For the first time and in poor light they noticed what a beautiful woman she was. Her slim figure was emphasised by the tight-fitting black polo shirt and trousers. But, like many before them, their main attention was caught and riveted by the power of her eyes. As she flicked a glance from one to the other, they became conscious all in a second of their mystery, their humour, and, most important in their circumstances, their compassion. They carried no threat except to their own deeply felt anger and aggression.
‘Do you find it cold down here?’
They replied by looking down and shuffling their feet.
‘I have to say that you look quite ridiculous in those outfits. And it is a pity that you do not seem to be too fond of exercise.’
Joseph, still finding it hard to believe that no harm was about to come to him, blurted out a garbled sentence or two that sounded vaguely like a request for forgiveness.
‘Madam, I was foolish. I ask myself … Please, pick up a stone and strike me on the head. I want to be hurt, to be punished. The inspector and I have been talking here …’
The inspector narrowed his gaze and reminded Maria of a remark she had made on the steps of that farmhouse.
‘Why did you say those words? You forgave us. We came to hurt you, to kill you and you look after us. Joseph and I ask each other many questions. What are we doing in this place? So many other puzzlements.’
Maria cut in.
‘Do you know that there is a hospital being built in Naivasha?’
‘Nothing about a hospital.’
‘And a young person from this town is paying for it? Have you ever heard of this person called Rebecca Kamau?’
‘Everyone knows her. I have heard her sing. I was on duty at a concert at the Bomas.’
‘It is her money. She is over there at this very minute. There was a fire. Many men died. Your boss man, Rubai, was the person who wanted this fire.’
‘There were pictures on the television. Yes, I remember this thing n
ow. But, Madam, I must tell you something, too. The top cops in HQ tell us to do this thing or that thing. If we won’t follow instructions, next day we are looking for a job on the big estate on Mombasa Road.’
Joseph sat on a fragile chair that creaked under his bulk. He looked at his boss, then at Maria and finally at the open door.
‘How many guards you have with you out there?’
‘Nobody, out there.’
‘So, Victor and I could hurt you and escape?’
‘Yes.’
‘Do you think they would let me work on that hospital? I am very strong.’
‘I will ask.’
‘Will you come again? Perhaps it is not so bad to sit down here in our underwear. I think that I could learn things.’
* * *
Many visitors came to Londiani in those last days before the trial. Families came to put flowers on the mzungo boy’s grave. Every evening just after five, three men on bicycles turned off South Lake Road. Two men from the rondavel village were escorting a man they only knew as Joseph back from a day’s work at the hospital site. They handed him over to Stephen Kamau who rode with him across the fields to the site of the old vineyard and locked him in for the night.
‘Bwana Kamau, do you think that your daughter will allow more of the boys to work on the site with me?’
‘You must ask her yourself.’
‘But she is such a famous lady and I am ashamed.’
Stephen smiled at the thought of having a ‘famous lady’ for a daughter.
‘Do what I do. Think of her as the most special wash girl in the whole of Kenya!’
Stephen and his companion were still visible when the last visitor for the day parked his familiar red car on the gravel close to the bottom step of the veranda. It was several minutes before the driver was ready to get out.
Rebecca and Tom were enjoying their coffee together while sharing the events of their day, she at the hospital and he on the farm. They had not noticed the small car parked nearby and were surprised to see Simon Nyache suddenly materialising on the top step of the veranda. He seemed reluctant to move towards them and Rebecca hurried to him when she saw that he was in some distress.
‘What has happened, Simon? Please, come, sit down and tell us. You have just missed my father, but he and the others will be here soon.’
He accepted a coffee but only toyed with the queen cake that Rebecca set before him. He admitted that he was deeply unhappy but firmly refused to give any reason until more of the family arrived.
‘I do not wish to be rude to you people who have always been so kind to me, but I do not believe I have it in me to tell you, to explain my grief more than once.’
‘Try that cake. Rebecca is using me as a guinea pig, trying new recipes out on me every day. But perhaps you would prefer to hear how the new building is going.’
‘The new building?’
Simon was trying to steady himself in his moments of distress.
‘Oh, yes. I heard about the fire and the deaths. You are building again? I hadn’t heard.’
Rebecca raised the old man’s spirits a little with her account of the new things happening on the other side of town. She was happy to cut herself off when the Londiani family gathering was complete. Making an effort to stay composed, he began.
‘You see a man who is full of shame. When I was a young man, the idea of me reaching the ancient age of eighty seemed impossible. But the mzees I saw around the village in those days all seemed to be content with themselves and their lives. But then I don’t suppose that any one of those ever came close to betraying their kindest friends. I see that I am puzzling you. Rubai took my wife and my two granddaughters.’
‘The bastard! Is there any single foul, disgraceful thing in this world that he wouldn’t stoop to?’
‘Thomas, it happened two days before he himself was taken from his own people. God bless them for having real guts. Rubai told me to give him a list of the members of Serena. Now Rubai is gone, one of his … thugs wants me to tell him where his boss is being hidden. If I want to see my …’
Rafaella sat next to him and placed a glass of brown liquid in front of him.
‘Warm brandy and a big spoonful of honey. Don’s favourite.’
‘This morning I went to tell them. They had given me an address on Moi Avenue. I was going crazy with worry. Olivia, our youngest, has the asthma and needs dawa. I was so scared it took me four hours to drive from Nakuru.’
‘But, Simon, do you know where Rubai is?’
‘No, Tom, I do not. I did not know who took him. There have been rumours.’
‘But when you named some place.’
‘Yes, they would check and find out I was lying. So they add another one to their list of dead men. But perhaps, they would let my girls go. I would have been happy to go to give them a chance.’
‘But you are here now. Did they believe you?’
‘I parked my car at the Norfolk and walked to the address.
I thought the fresh air would clear my brain. On my way it came to me. They believe it was …’
Maria finished his sentence.
‘Yes, it was us. We have him hidden. Five days to the trial. Our hopes are rising.’
‘I was shocked. I went through the nearest door. It was a bank. I sat down with my face towards the wall. One of the tellers came over to me with a glass of water. And now I am here.’
Maura knelt in front of Simon. ‘So you have not betrayed anyone.’
‘I was ready to …’
‘To save your family. Who could blame you?’
‘Maura, there has been enough death in this town. I am supposed to be the protector of these people. Listen to me. On my way here I had an idea. You tell me where he is. Can I drive there? Alex?’
‘Yes, but it’s a long way.’
‘It will be dark soon and the roads will be clear. I have a gun. What people are there?’
‘You know some of them.’
‘Good! So they will let me in.’
‘Perhaps but …’
‘I can be a good talker. All those years in parliament. In ten minutes, he will be dead.’
‘Simon, you must stop this.’
Simon was being carried away on a wave of excitement. ‘And the best part is that I would strap him into the front seat of my car, drive him down to Nairobi and wait outside that address in Moi Avenue. You see, no need for the risk of a trial!’
Maria and Rebecca sat up with the tired old man until after midnight. Maria began one of her ancient songs. Rebecca was soon able to pick up the melody and soon the sweetness of their harmony had Simon dozing into a deep sleep. Holding hands, they sang on, soothing away their own anxieties, wondering what the next few days would have in store for everyone in that house and in every other part of their beloved country.
Chapter Forty
veryone involved in the dangerous attempt to bring a rich and powerful man who expected soon to be the next president to trial in a Nairobi court had agreed that, from Thursday on, they would be willing to use the up-country radio system to keep in contact. From its crude beginnings during the days of the Mau Mau troubles, it had developed into a more sophisticated means of keeping tabs on even the remotest settlements in the Rift Valley and the Highlands.
Daniel’s first contact from the radio in Bertie’s guesthouse was with High Court Judge, Mary M’tambo. She had important pieces of news, but she needed to know about Rubai.
‘He is still with our people? Good. We have three possible courts on standby for Monday. We’ll choose one on the morning we start. I’ve had dozens of meetings in the last fourteen days, most of them in secret. Daniel, you will appreciate that a trial like this is unprecedented. That is why the city is jammed with reporters from all over the world. A big plus is that Koyane, Rubai’s man, has agreed to the starting day, mainly because he thinks that it will be impossible to get him to court. There will be five judges and no jury. There’s no need to ask if you and P
aul have your case ready. There is a huge risk for you, of course.’
‘Mary, this is our chance. Serena would have taken years to work itself into this position. And, at bottom we owe it all to a beautiful twenty-something. I call her the Kenyan Joan of Arc, only to myself, of course. She would never see it that way. Everybody loves her, except a certain Mister Big who will soon be losing that title.’
‘God willing! Right, we will organise the Nairobi side. You get him down here. Could we speak again on Sunday morning on this wavelength?’
‘Sure. We will be moving out from here in the afternoon.’
‘I’ve never seen the city so excited and tense at the same time. Much worse than Saba Saba Day.’
* * *
Daniel and Paul kept their first conversation for almost three weeks very brief.
‘Paul, what time do you plan to arrive?’
‘Two am. We have two helicopters. One will start from here.
The other will be a decoy, setting off from Kijabe and flying low. We might fool someone!’
‘We plan to leave Naivasha near sundown. You won’t believe this, but we are going down to the Daniels’ house in two police cars and dressed in police uniforms, even the ladies. It’s true! Shall we say that we are borrowing them for the day! Tell you the whole story when this is all over.’
‘Maria is still confident?’
‘She talks as though she has a special line to someone in authority!’
‘That’s my sister.’
‘Paul, between you and me, I find it hard to believe that all of us will come out of this. But the adrenalin is pumping and there’s been a lot of praying. Ivor has contacted his chapel people in Wales. Apparently, they’ve spread the word and there are hundreds behind us. Those three have been great. They have regular quiet times around Iolo. Sometimes they are out there for hours. I’ll stop now, just in case, by some fluke, someone will pick up this wavelength.’
