by Anthony Mugo
“I thought you had a conscience.”
“Now what?” Sanse asked.
“You’ve earned yourself a kick in the butt,” Elizabeth said. “I’ll put it on ice for obvious reasons.”
“Lucky me!”
Who is the blackmailer?”
“Does the question mean I am still hired?” Sanse said.
“You damn well know you are.”
“Lucky me,” Sanse said. “I have a good guess.”
“Give me a name.”
“If you think hard you’ll arrive at my guess,” Sanse said. “We need another drop to proceed.”
“We got one.”
“So soon?”
“It turns out that a fellow worshipper is a victim,” Elizabeth said. “She talked to Pastor Munderu in confidence.”
“This is more interesting than I thought. Where is she?”
“Does ‘talked in confidence’ mean anything to you?” Elizabeth asked placing a bundle of notes on the table. “I thought you might want to mark the bills. She will take over once they are ready. As for a donation...”
“How much?”
“Twenty thousand.”
“And the drop goes down tonight?”
Elizabeth nodded.
“We will emboss the two-hundred notes,” Sanse addressed Naomi. He dialled Pai’s number which failed to go through. A moment later his phone rang. “You’ve blocked incoming calls! You said no detective has been transferred since the Riana Hotel scandal. Any death? Okay, no transfer, no death.”
“If I may,” Elizabeth said when Sanse ended the call. “A detective died in a motorcycle accident not so long ago.”
“Are you sure?” Sanse asked redialling Pai’s number. Pai called back. “What about the one who died in a motorcycle accident?”
“Mwendia was an informer,” Pai said.
“Where are you?”
“Joy Cafe.”
Sanse moved Elizabeth aside. “I have a special request,” he said. “The moment Mercantile Finance Bank closes today’s business at three I lose my home. It is half past two. You will settle my arrears...”
“Forget it,” Elizabeth said. “We only pay for results. You get us the blackmailer we clear your arrears.”
“Please.”
“Give me the name.”
Their eyes locked. “I can’t do that without hard evidence.”
“Then get it.”
Chapter 25
Joy Cafe occupied the building which was once the offices of Kathare Tea Farmers’ Cooperative Society and a bar. Pai sat at a corner table hunched over a mug of tea. His hands engulfed the mug as if he was afraid someone might take it. He had a cap pulled close to his eyes. He lifted his head momentarily as Sanse walked in.
“I need sixty thousands ASAP,” Sanse said occupying a chair.
“You’re joking, right?”
“No.”
“What is going on?”
“Do you have the money or not?”
“I don’t.”
Sanse consulted his Omex, got his comb and started working on his hair. He stopped abruptly and faced Pai. “When did Mwendia die?”
“It is almost a year now.”
“Would he visit the station?”
“Once in a long while,” Pai said.
“Was he present on the day you lost the memory card?”
“No.”
“Could you have noticed his presence had he been there?”
“Mwendia was too noticeable to pass.”
“How so?”
“A stocky man who walked with a limp,” Pai said.
“Tell me the circumstances under which the evidence was destroyed.”
“We had just finished our morning brief when the DCIO and I proceeded to destroy the evidence,” Pai said. “My colleagues went to the canteen for tea.”
“At what point did you make the switch?”
“When I was cross-checking the evidence against the inventory,” Pai said. “Only the DCIO and I were present. I emptied the wastepaper basket into a small carton and led the way out. I put everything in the carton and lit it. It was over in five minutes. I walked back to my desk and the DCIO got to his office. A was hardly at my desk when he called me. Damn, I should have gone to the canteen.”
“How long did you take inside the DCIO’s office?”
“Two minutes tops.”
“When did you return for the card?”
“Not longer than ten minutes.”
“Who was in the office?”
“Nobody.”
“What did you do when you missed the card?”
“I concluded that my boss had taken it,” Pai said. “I dashed out expecting to be crucified on my return.”
“Could he have chosen to make good use of the card instead of crucifying you?”
“Inspector Boko?” Pai asked. “Forget it. Besides, he solely had unrestricted access to the evidence for three days. Look, I must see this thing through. Once it is done you can have your pound of fresh. I think we should be pulling together.”
Sanse regarded his ex-partner. Of course they could join hands. The challenge was how to avoid a collision.
“What do you bring to the party?” Sanse asked.
“Suspects,” Pai said. “The blackmailer is either Detective Kewa or Detective Obiero.”
“What do you have on them?”
“Their liquidity baffles me.”
“If one made it without blackmail so could the other,” Sanse said. “Besides, according to Makao none of your colleagues visited First and Last.”
“Aren’t you overrating that slob?”
“How is Muturi’s family financially?” Sanse asked.
“Muturi lost his single mother a while back,” Pai said. “No one can explain his sudden riches.”
Sanse told Pai about the three embossed notes.
“Picture this,” Pai said. “Muturi and Detective Kewa are friends!”
“That is interesting.”
“Muturi is our man,” Pai said with emotion.
Sanse fished out his jolly comb and begun combing his hair. “Another drop is going down tonight,” he said.
“That is good news. What is the plan?”
“I am working on it,” Sanse said. “I need to see Mwendia’s file.”
Pai hesitated. He had planned to keep off the station as long as he could. Nevertheless, he would do anything to stop the blackmailer.
“Can I use your phone?” He told Sanse.
Pai dialled Mavedi’s number off-head.
“Mavedi? Pai here. It died out. I know... I am working on something... You did well...I know... I know... I’ll see him... Panicking won’t solve it... Damn! Calm down, will you?”
It took five minutes to calm Mavedi down and six to convince him to get Mwendia’s file. The moment he arrived outside the Post Office Pai took the file and crossed the road leaving him stranded. Pai joined Sanse in the Mazda.
Mwendia’s file was thin. Mwendia had been a boda boda operator for two years before he was recruited as an informer. On 15th November 2006, the day he died, he arrived home at four and left at five. As was his habit, he watched the nine o’clock news at Echo Bar which was run by Anthony Wanjohi, his brother-in-law. He left at twenty past nine saying that he had to buy a prescription before the chemists closed down. Lavender, his wife, called Wanjohi at midnight because Mwendia had not arrived home and his phone was off-air. Early the following day Lavender and Wanjohi visited every chemist in town with Mwendia’s picture. If Mwendia had visited any chemist then nobody could remember. A farmer found his body and motorbike in a roadside gorge in the afternoon. There were skid marks on the road which implied that Mwendia could have been forced off the road. Two thousand seven hundred shillings, an ATM card, his identification card and his wife’s photo were found in his wallet. The pathologist’s report stated that Mwendia died instantly due to bodily injury and blood loss. Two suspects had been arrested and set free for lack of
evidence. Detective Gordon Kewa was handling the case.
“I want to talk to Lavender,” Sanse said starting the car.
“You call this a car?” Pai said as Sanse struggled to engage the first gear.
“It looks the exact way my teacher described a car,” Sanse said. “Mind you, he was a very bright chap.”
Lavender, a dark woman in her early twenties, lived in a single room at the outskirts of the town. She did little to hide her disdain for the police.
“You used him and now this charade,” she said.
“I understand your bitterness but...” Pai started.
“Do you?”
“We wouldn’t be here.”
“Your visit earns you a fat salary.”
“Him, not me,” Sanse said. “I am a private investigator.”
Lavender studied Sanse without interest. “What difference does it make?”
“Probably none,” Sanse said. “How can we know if we don’t try?”
“You don’t get it do you?” Lavender said. “How does tracking down my husband’s killer help in raising Tony? Does it pay rent? What I need is money! I want you gone so shoot.”
“Would you say your husband was better off financially at the time of his death?” Sanse asked.
“Does two thousand in the bank mean ‘better off financially’ to you?”
Sanse’s attention shifted to the computer sitting on the table. “Your husband was home for an hour on the day he died. Did he use the computer?”
“He always used the computer when at home.”
“May I?”
Sanse switched on the computer which failed to boot. “No operating system,” he said.
“How so?”
“It looks like you formatted it,” Pai said.
“Me?” Lavender said. “I have never switched it on. I considered selling it then I told myself I could start a business once Tony is big enough.”
“Have you ever found the house in disarray?” Sanse regretted the question immediately because the room was disarray itself.
“No.”
“Thank you for your time,” Sanse said.
Pai went in search of Christopher Muturi as Sanse went to check on Naomi and Elizabeth.
Chapter 26
At six-thirty Muturi’s car stood outside Njewa Towers. Sanse and Pai sat in the Mazda across the road each man lost to his own thoughts. Having failed to honour the bank’s deadline sobriety was Sanse’s biggest enemy. Now he knew he should have listened to Rumu.
Pai did not want to think about the trouble awaiting him at the station. He stood condemned for conducting shallow investigations. Then there was the List of Shame. The question of whether Sanse was justified to give him away was irrelevant. He had messed up, period. Both men had such high regard for the rule of law he would have done no less in Sanse’s place. It just wasn’t so rosy staring down the barrel.
The blackmailer gave the route for the drop at a quarter to seven. He was shrewd alright. The seven-kilometre dirty road between Gitumbi and Kiaritha ran almost parallel to the Kathare-Nairobi tarmac. The tarmac could be accessed from the dirty road by at least five motorable feeder roads. Sanse and Pai agreed to trail Muturi as far as the tarmac road because doing so on a dirty road with no traffic would raise the red flag. They would accost him later in the hope that he had the marked money on him.
Pai trained his thoughts on Christopher Muturi. Until today the police had had nothing on him. The word on the street was that Muturi was a devil worshipper. Pai was ashamed to know that he was behind the young man’s success.
Muturi walked to his car at seven.
“Here we go,” Pai said.
Sanse turned the ignition only for the engine to whine. The second attempt at starting the Mazda gave a louder whine.
Muturi pulled out.
“What is going on?” Pai asked.
“It could be the carburettor, it could be the starter; it could be a lot of things.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that I am not a damn mechanic!”
“For crying out loud!”
The fourth time Sanse turned the key everything was quiet under the bonnet. Pai dashed out of the car and ran up the road on foot leaving a stranded Sanse. He returned seven minutes later on a boda boda.
“You call this junk a car, eh?” Pai ejaculated and kicked the Mazda. “He is gone! Gone! Disappeared! Vanished! Are you happy?”
“You can’t win all the time,” Sanse said.
“Excuse me?”
“I need some booze in me,” Sanse said getting out of the car. “You should get some too.”
“Is that it?”
“We wait for Elizabeth’s call,” Sanse said.
Pai watched as Sanse disappeared into a dirty street. He cursed and entered the car. Sanse returned forty minutes later. “Elizabeth called a while ago,” he said. “Twenty-five minutes to be exact. We should wait for Muturi at Echo Bar.”
“What tells you he will go there?”
“He was there yesterday,” Sanse said. “Have a little faith.”
The two men walked to Echo Bar in silence. They entered a hotel which overlooked the bar and ordered for tea.
“Do you still want to go after Rose’s lover?” Sanse said.
“I just want to stop the blackmailer.”
“Do you regret ever attempting to?”
“What would you have done?” Pai asked. “Wish the bastard good health and long life?”
Two cars pulled up outside Echo Bar three minutes of each other.
“How are Norah and Ed?” Sanse asked.
“I am the enemy in my own house,” Pai said. “They blame me for their mother’s death.”
“After telling them the truth?”
Pai stared at his former partner. “What truth? That their mother was sleeping around? That she was in the List of Shame?”
“Why not? Gitonga’s murder is a good point to build your case.”
Pai stared at his ex-partner. “Thank you Plato but no.”
“You are the devil because you pretend she was a saint.”
“I said no!”
“I told you he would come,” Sanse said.
Muturi’s Xtrail pulled up outside Echo Bar at eight. The two men left the hotel as Muturi entered the bar. Sanse lingered about the two cars that had preceded Muturi’s for a moment before he followed Pai to one of the booths at the back. There were two men in the four-seater booth: Doctor Gilbert Kanyua and Christopher Muturi. Sanse and Pai occupied seats nearest to the entrance effectively fencing in the two men.
“How was your journey?” Sanse asked Kanyua.
“It was okay,” Kanyua said. “We have paid for the booth.”
“It would be stupid to argue with you on that account,” Sanse said.
“You can’t be here,” Muturi said. “House rules.”
“Let’s try some police rules,” Pai said. “We have issues to talk about.”
“What issues?” Muturi asked.
“Blackmail and murder,” Pai said.
“You are kidding me, right?” Muturi said.
“The money you collected yesterday as payoff was marked,” Pai said. “All the notes were photographed and the hundred-shilling ones embossed. Three of the embossed notes turned up at Gitonga’s funeral. One of them originated from you, another from Johnson Gatonye, a man who works for you. The third note came from a man who received it as balance from this joint.”
“I am used to my taxes being misused,” Muturi said. “However, harassing me while at it is unacceptable.”
“Empty your pockets,” Pai ordered.
“Why?”
Pai fished out his gun. “Now!”
“Wow, wow!”
Muturi placed some money and a packet of condoms on the table.
“Excuse me,” Kanyua said getting on his feet. “I will leave you to your little drama.”
“Not so fast,” Sanse told him. “Muturi is guilt
y of insolence and maybe adultery. You are guilty of murder and blackmail.”
“Spare me the nonsense,” Kanyua said.
“How much did he give you yesterday?” Sanse asked Muturi.
“Wait a minute. What …?” Kanyua said.
“How much?”
“Thirty thousand,” Muturi said.
Sanse dipped his hands inside Kanyua’s pockets and came out with a bundle of notes. He checked a two-hundred shillings note for the mark, and another, and another. The three had an embossed 0 inside the first zero on the front, right lower corner.
Kanyua fished out his phone and speed-dialled a number.
“With the elections around the corner the last thing your lover wants is to be entangled in your mess,” Sanse said. Kanyua disconnected the call and collapsed on his seat.
“You of all people!” Muturi said.
“You knew he is the blackmailer all along?” Pai asked.
“There were several clues,” Sanse said. “One, First and Last Bar and Restaurant recently renewed their Food Handlers Medical Certificate. The certificate results from an inspection by the Chief Public Health Officer which places Kanyua at the joint about the time the photos were planted. Two, the blackmailer used to hit the victims once a month at most but now he can go up to three times because he is constrained for cash. Kanyua is under pressure to finish the construction of his building along Simba Street. Three, the pressure which birthed the destruction of the list a year ago has been missing for the past year. It means that a powerful victim or victims are no longer in the hook.” Sanse addressed Dr. Kanyua. “Your lover, Honourable Judith Githae, was behind the pressure to destroy the List of Shame. However, a month after the destruction of the list Mwendia accosted you demanding money. You forced him off the road. But the memory card was not on him. You went to his house, took the memory card and formatted his computer. Well, I lied to you that I was not after the blackmailer. I am not sorry for it.”
“Then why were we following Muturi?” Pai asked.
“Kanyua was not within,” Sanse said. “If you check his car you will find a Nairobi City Council parking ticket on the dashboard. However, with a fresh payoff going down tonight, I expected the two to meet. It appears I was right.”
Pai cuffed the doctor and led him out.
