Elephant Song - Smith Wilbur - Страница 38

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Like a soldier.  I think I know him, Chetti Singh said.  I saw him very recently, but it was at night and I cannot be absolutely certain. He picked up the telephone from his desk and dialed two digits.

Standing at the window, he watched his second daughter pick up the telephone from beside her cash register.  Treasure, he spoke in Hindi.

The man at your till.  Is he paying with a credit card?  Yes, father.

She was the brightest of all his children, as much value to him as a second son, almost.  Get his name and ask him where he is staying in town.

Chetti Singh hung up and watched the white man pay for his purchases and leave the store heavily laden.  As soon as he had gone, Chetti Singh dialled again.

His name is Armstrong, his daughter told him.  D. A.

Armstrong.  He says that he is staying at the Capital Hotel.  Good.

Let me speak to Chavve quickly.  Below him his daughter swivelled her seat and called one of the uniformed security guards from the main doors.

She held out the telephone receiver to him and as he placed it to his ear Chetti Singh asked, Chawe, did you recognize the malungu who has just left?  The tall one with thick curly hair.  Chetti bad switched to Angoni.  I saw him, the guard replied in the same language.

But I did not recognize him.  Four nights ago, Chetti Singh prompted him.

On the road near Chirundu just after we had loaded the truck.  The one who stopped and spoke to us.  There was silence as Chawe considered the question.  Chetti Singh saw him begin to pick at a nostril with his forefinger, a sign of uncertainty and embarrassment.  Perhaps, Chavve said at last.

I am not sure.  He removed the thick forefinger from his nose and inspected it minutely.  He was a man of the Angoni, a distant relative of the royal line of Zulu.  His tribe had migrated this far north two hundred years before the time of King Chaka.  He was a warrior, not a man given to deep thought.

Follow him, Chetti Singh ordered.  Do not let him see you.

Do you understand?  I understand, Nkosi.  Chawe looked relieved to be ordered into action and he left through the main doors with a spring in his step.

He returned half an hour later, hangdog and.  crestfallen.  As soon as he came in through the main doors Chetti Singh telephoned his daughter again.  Send Chawe up to my office right away!

Chawe stood in the doorway at the head of the stairs, as big as a gorilla, and Chetti Singh demanded, Well, did you follow him as I ordered?  Nkosi, it is the same man.  Chawe shuffled his feet.

Despite his size and strength, he was terrified of Chetti Singh.  He had seen what happened to those who displeased the master.  In fact, it was Chawe himself who was usually responsible for enforcing his master's discipline.  He did not look directly into his eyes as he went on.  It is the man who spoke to us on the night, he said, and Chetti Singh frowned quickly.  Why are you sure now, when you were uncertain before?

Chetti Singh demanded.  The truck, Chawe explained.  He went to his truck and put the goods he had bought from us into it.  It is the same truck, with a man's arm painted on the side, Mambo.  Good.  Chetti Singh nodded approval.  You did well.  Where is the man now?  He drove away in the truck.  Chawe looked apologetic.

I could not follow him.  I am sorry, Nkosi Kakulu.  Never mind.  You did well, Chetti Singh repeated.  Who is on duty at the warehouse tonight? 1

am, Mambo .  . . Chawe grinned suddenly, his teeth were large and even and very white, and, of course, Nandi.  Yes, of course.

Chetti Singh stood up.  I will come down to the warehouse this evening after business is closed.  I want to make sure that Nandi is ready to do her job.  I think we may have trouble tonight.  I want everything prepared.  Have Nandi in the small cage.  I don't want any mistakes.  Do you understand, Chawe?  I understand, Mambo.  At six o'clock, at the warehouse.

Sometimes it was as well to repeat instructions to Chawe.  Nkosi.

Chawe sidled from the room, still not looking directly at his master.

After he had gone, Chetti Singh sat staring at the closed door for many minutes before he picked up the telephone again. Direct-dialling to an international exchange was always a lottery in Africa.  Zimbabwe was almost a neighbouring state;

only the narrow Tete corridor of Mozambique separated them.

Nevertheless, it took him a dozen attempts and twenty frustrating minutes before he heard a ringing tone at the other end of the line and was through to the number in Harare.  Good afternoon.

This is the embassy of the Republic of Taiwan.  May I help you?  I wish speech with the ambassador.  I'm sorry.  His Excellency is not available at present.  May I take a message or put you through to another member of the staff, I am Chetti Singh.  We are abundantly acquainted.  Please hold on, sir.  A minute later Cheng came on the line.  You are not to telephone me at this number.  We agreed.  Chetti Singh told him firmly, This is urgent, absolutely it hi I cannot speak on this line.  I will call you back within the hour.  Give me your number there and wait for me.  The private unlisted telephone on Chetti Singh's desk rang forty minutes later.  This line is secure, Cheng told him as he picked it up.

But be discreet.  Do you know a white chap named Armstrong?  Doctor Armstrong?  Yes.  I know him.  This is the one you met at Chiwewe, and who accosted you on the road regarding certain stains on your clothing, is it not?  Yes.

Cheng's tone was non-committal.  It's all right, don't worry.  He knows nothing.  Then why has he pitched up in Lilongwe?

Chetti Singh demanded.  You still want me not to worry?  There was a silence.

Lilongwe?  Cheng said at last.  Did he also see you that night on the Chirundu road?  Yes.  Chetti Singh tugged at his beard.  He stopped and spoke to me.  He asked if I had seen the Parks trucks.  When was that?

After we had transferred the ivory to you--?  Careful!  Chetti Singh snapped.  But yes, it was after we had parted our separate ways, never mind.  My men and I were tying down the tarpaulins when this white chap in a truck pulled up-Cheng cut in, How long did you speak to him?  A minute, no more than that.  Then he went south towards Harare.  I think he was following you, without a morsel of doubt.  He caught up with Gomo and forced him off the road.  Cheng's voice was sharp and agitated.  He searched the Parks truck.  Of course, he didn't find anything.  He is suspicious, indubitably.  Indubitably, Cheng agreed sarcastically.  But if he spoke to you for only a minute, he cannot connect you.  He doesn't even know who you are.  My name and address are boldly imprinted upon my truck, Chetti-Singh said.

Cheng was silent again for a slow count of five.  I did not notice.

That was imprudent, my friend.  You should have covered it.  It is no good closing the stable door after the bird has flown, Chetti Singh pointed out.

Where is the ?  Cheng broke off.  Where are the goods?

Have you shipped them?  Not yet.  They will go out tomorrow.  Can't you get rid of them sooner?  That is beyond the bounds of possibility.

You will have to deal with Armstrong then, if he becomes too curious.

Yes, said Chetti Singh.  I will deal with him most firmly and resolutely.  Your side?  Is everything taken care of?  Your Mercedes?

Yes.  The two drivers?  Yes.  Have the authorities visited you?  Yes, but, it was routine, Cheng assured him.  There were no surprises.  They have not mentioned your name to me.  But you must not telephone me at the embassy again.  Use this number only.  My security people have cleared this line.  He gave Chetti Singh the number and he wrote it down carefully.  I will let you know about this chap.  He is an absolute Nuisance, Chetti Singh went on.  I hope not for too much longer.  Cheng cradled the receiver and instinctively reached for one of the assembly of ivory netsuke that were arranged on his desk top.

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