Jeff Edwards

The Song of Mawu


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delivered to Mr Lionel Rafter at the Jersey International Bank for me?’

      ‘Of course. We’ll have it delivered as soon as the bank opens.’

      ‘Thank you very much.’

      ***

      At precisely ten o’clock that morning Eliza presented herself at the Jersey International Bank and was conducted to the office of its President, Lionel Rafter.

      ‘Welcome!’ he beamed as he rose and shook her hand, ‘It’s good to meet one of the bank’s female owners at last.’

      Eliza saw that there was a brown paper wrapped package on his desk and breathed a sigh of relief.

      ‘I see my package has arrived.’

      ‘Yes of course. Do you want to open it in private? I can make an office available to you.’

      ‘No. I need to show you the contents and give you instructions as to what to do with them.’

      ‘I’m intrigued.’

      Lionel Rafter handed the package to her, ‘It’s surprisingly heavy for its size. I would have guessed a gold ingot but I know the weight of gold and it’s too light for that. Jewellery perhaps?’

      ‘No, but the contents are extremely valuable,’ said Eliza as she unwrapped it. ‘We forwarded it to our Singapore office from headquarters and had Wendy Chung forward it back to my hotel here in Jersey.’

      ‘I’ve met Wendy and her sister. How are they?’

      ‘I’m told they’re fine,’ replied Eliza, as she finally revealed the contents of the package.

      ‘If I know my computer science, I’d say they were hard drives.’

      Eliza smiled, ‘Correct. They’re identical. One is for you to hold in your vault. Guard it with your life.’

      ‘Of course I will. And the other?’

      ‘That one you can hand over to Inland Security when they call with a Search Warrant.’

      Lionel Rafter hid his surprise well, ‘How can you be sure that Inland Security will come looking?’

      ‘They searched my room this morning and found nothing. I was probably followed here. They’ll be at the courthouse as we speak, seeking the order.’

      ‘I can claim that we know nothing about this matter.’

      ‘That’s not what we want. Be polite and give them what they’re looking for. We don’t want you getting in trouble with the authorities.’

      ‘It seems a lot of trouble to go to. Why not simply hand it over to the authorities yourself?’

      Eliza smiled, ‘Smoke and mirrors. While they’re busy looking in one direction, the real game is taking place elsewhere.’

      Lionel Rafter nodded in understanding.

      Eliza stood and shook his hand, ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a flight to Paris to catch.’

      14

      By the time Eliza’s flight landed in Lobacra she was exhausted. Making connections at numerous airports had robbed her of any sleep and the bumpy flight into Namola had her wishing once more for the private jet that had last taken her out of this country.

      Collecting her suitcase, she was able to pass through customs quickly by handing over a moderate bribe to the official on duty.

      As she walked through the dusty terminal she felt a hand grab at the suitcase in her hand, ‘I’ll carry that for you.’

      Eliza looked up at the tall man who now stood beside her. He was the age of her father with craggy features and the red nose of a seasoned drinker. His smile was kindly as he prised the suitcase from her hand.

      ‘I didn’t see you. I wasn’t expecting to see you.’

      ‘When Toby contacted me I knew there had to be a story out here so The Fund made all the arrangements and here I am. I beat you out here because you had to divert to Jersey. What was that all about?’

      ‘You’re a very good reporter Mick Sloane. You knew exactly which question I can’t answer. How do you do that?’

      ‘Pure natural talent,’ beamed Mick Sloane. ‘Come on, I’ve got a car waiting and a million other questions for you to answer.’

      ‘Heaven help me,’ smiled Eliza as she fell in beside the tall reporter and they left the air conditioned terminal for the African heat.

      ***

      Brian Reynolds parked his Jaguar among similar prestigious vehicles that lined the kerb of the elegant London avenue. He and Lana climbed out and made their way up a short set of stairs to a solid set of double doors that quietly hinted at the wealth of the residence they guarded.

      They were admitted by a sombrely dressed elderly female who silently led them down a carpeted hallway and ushered them into a book-lined library. There they found seated behind a large mahogany desk an even more elderly lady wearing a bright sari and reading through a stack of files.

      When the door opened she closed the file before her, and stood to welcome her guests. ‘Brian, Lana,’ she smiled, ‘it’s so good to see you again. I’d begun to think that you’d forgotten this doddering old lady.’

      ‘Never!’ smiled Lana, as she took the woman’s hand and bent to kiss her cheek. ‘You’re always close to our thoughts. In fact, we were wondering if you’d care to be one of our guests at the opening of the new headquarters. We’ll even let you sit next to Prime Minister Foster. He’s already agreed to officially open the building.’

      ‘Sit next to that swine! Never! I can’t stand politicians! They should all be sent out to do a hard day’s work once in a while! I’ll be glad to come, but if I sat next to the Prime Minister I’d be too tempted to tell him what I really think of him and his government. Sit me up the back and as far away from the politicians as you can.’

      Brian laughed at the old woman’s outburst and knew that, given the chance, she was more than capable of telling the Prime Minister a few home truths. ‘We’ll make sure that our duly elected officials are protected from your wrath.’

      ‘And so you should,’ laughed Dr Rani Smith as she sat her guests down on a large leather sofa. ‘Now, what brings you here today? You were rather vague on the telephone.’

      Brian explained briefly about The Fund’s involvement with the refugee camp in Namola and how they had lost control of their village to Joseph Lattua’s army.

      ‘Before we can formulate any sort of response we have to know more about the current situation in that country,’ added Lana, ‘That was how we lost control in the first place and we can’t afford to make the same mistake again.’

      Rani Smith nodded, ‘I see. And you want me to find you someone who knows the in and outs of Namola? One of its citizens.’

      ‘Someone reliable, but someone who will be willing to talk freely,’ Lana added.

      Rani Smith studied the couple and waved to the pile of files she had been working on when they entered. ‘I know the sort of person you’re looking for and I’m reasonably sure there’ll be a few candidates among the young people my trust offers assistance to, but I’m not really the person you should be speaking with. Nowadays I’ve been relegated to a mere figurehead for the trust. I receive the vetted files and give my permission for the funds to be handed over.’

      ‘Ever since we received the bequest from my dear friend Jade’s estate we’ve been able to help so many more students than we ever could have before. Originally my daughter helped me but it all became just too much even for the pair of us. That was when my granddaughter stepped in. With her degree in business administration she has turned the trust on its head.’

      ‘Now she has a staff of ten with computers