Leopard Hunts in Darkness - Smith Wilbur - Страница 34
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A bodyguard of Third Brigade troopers in full battle dress checked Craig and his driver carefully at the gate before allowing them up to the main house. When Craig climbed the front steps, Peter Fungabera. was waiting for him at the top. He was dressed in white cotton slacks and a crimson short-sleeved silk shirt, which looked magnificent against his velvety black skin. With a friendly arm around Craig's shoulders, he led him down the veranda to where a small group was seated.
"Craig, may I introduce Mr. Musharewa, governor of the Land Bank of Zimbabwe. This is Mr. Kapwepwe, his assistant, and this is Mr. Cohen, my attorney. Gentlemen, this is Mr. Craig Mellow, the famous author."
They shook hands. "A drink, Craig? We are drinking Bloody Marys."
"That will do very well, Peter." A servant in a flowing white kanza, reminiscent of colonial days, brought Craig his drink and when he left, Peter Fungabera said simply, "The Land Bank of Zimbabwe has agreed to stand as your personal surety for a loan of five million dollars from the World Bank or its associate bank in New York." Craig gaped at him.
"Your connection with the World Bank is not a particularly closely guarded secret, you know. Henry Pickering is well known to us too Peter smiled, and went on quickly.
"Of course, there are certain conditions and stipulations, but I don't think they will be prohibitive." He turned to his white attorney.
"You have the documents, Izzy? Good, will you give Mr. Mellow a copy, and then read through them for us, please."
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Isadore Cohen adjusted his spectacles, squared up the thick pile of documents on the table in front of him and began.
"Firstly, this is a land purchase approval," he said.
"Authority for Craig Mellow, a British subject and a citizen of Zimbabwe, to purchase a controlling interest in the land-owning private company, known as Rholands (Pry) Ltd. The approval is signed by the state president and countersigned by the minister of agriculture." Craig thought of Tungata Zebiwe's promise to quash that approval and then he remembered that the minister of agriculture was Peter Fungabera's brother-in-law. He glanced across at the general, but he was listening intently to his lawyer's recitation.
As he came to each document in the pile, Isadore Cohen read through it carefully, not omitting even the preamble, and pausing at the end of each paragraph for questions and explanations.
Craig was so excited that he had difficulty sitting still and keeping his expression and voice level and businesslike. The momentary panic he had felt at Peter's sudden mention of the World Bank was forgotten and he felt like whooping and dancing up and down the veranda: Rholands was his, King's Lynn was his, Queen's Lynn was his, and Zambezi Waters was his.
Even in his excitation there was one paragraph that rang with a hollow note with Isadore Cohen read it out.
"What the hell doe that mean enemy of the state and the people of Zimbabuk?" he demanded.
"It's a standard clause in all our do cum ntation," Isadore Cohen placated him, "merely an expression of patriotic sentiment. The Land Bank is a government institution. If the borrower were to engage in treasonable activity and was declared an enemy of the state and people, the Land Bank would be obliged to repudiate all its obligations to the guilty party."
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"Is that legal?" Craig was dubious, and when the lawyer reassured him, he went on, "Do you think the lending bank will accept that?" "They have done so already on other contracts of surety," the bank governor told him. "As Mr. Cohen says, it's a standard clause."
"After all, Craig," Peter Fungabera smiled, "you aren't intending to lead an armed revolution to overthrow our government, are you?" Craig returned his smile weakly. "Well, okay, if the American lending bank will accept that, then I suppose it must be kosher." The reading took almost an hour, and then Governor Musharewa signed all the copies, and both his assistant and Peter Fungabera witnessed his signature. Then it was Craig's turn to sign and again the witnesses followed him, and finally Isadore Cohen impressed his seal of Commissioner of Oaths on each document.
"That's it, gentlemen. Signed, sealed and delivered."
"It only remains to see if Henry Pickering will be satisfied." 40h, did I forget to mention it?" Peter Fungabera grinned wickedly. "Governor Kapwepwe spoke to Pickering yesterday afternoon, 10 a.m. New York time. The money will be available to you just as soon as the surety is in his hands." He nodded to the hovering house servant. "Now you can bring the champagne." They toasted each other, the Land Bank, the World Bank, and Rholands Company, and only when the second bottle was empty did the two black bankers take reluctant leave.
As their limousine went down the drive, Peter Fungabera took Craig's arm. "And now we can discuss my raising fee. Mr. Cohen has the papers." Craig read them, and felt the blood drain from his face.
"Ten per cent," he gasped. "Ten per cent of the paid, up shares of Rholands."
"We really must change that name." Peter Fungabera frowned. "As you see, Mr. Cohen will hold the shares as my nominee. It might save embarrassment later." Craig pretended to re-read the contract, while he tried to muster a protest. The two men watched him in silence.
Ten per cent was robbery, but where else could Craig go?
Isadore Cohen slowly unscrewed the cap of his pen and handed it to Craig.
"I think you will find a cabinet minister and an army commander a most useful sleeping partner in this enterprise," he said, and Craig accepted the pen.
"There is only one copy." Craig still hesitated.
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