Elephant Song - Smith Wilbur (книги бесплатно без онлайн txt) 📗

He folded a five-dollar bill into his Passport as he approached the post on the Zambian side, a hundred yards in distance but, it seemed to him, a mighty leap back into the dark ages as he passed between the two countries.

He telephoned Michael Hargreave within an hour of arriving in Lusaka, and Michael invited him to dinner that evening.  Where are you heading next, you roving bedouin you?  Wendy demanded as she served him a second helping of her famous Yorkshire pudding.  God, what a lovely adventurous, romantic life you lead.  I really must find you a wife; you make all our husbands restless.  How long will you be with us?

That depends on what Michael can tell me about a mutual acquaintance called Ning Cheng Gong.  If he's still in Harare, that's where I will be heading.  If not, well, it's back to London, or possibly Taiwan.

You're still chasing after the Chink?  Michael asked, as he pulled the cork from a bottle of reasonable deuxime cru claret that had come out in the diplomatic bag.  Are we allowed to know what it's all about yet?

Daniel glanced at Wendy, and she pulled a face.  Do you want me to go to the kitchen?  Don't be an ass, Wendy.  I've never had any secrets from you, Daniel soothed her, and then turned back to her husband.  I have proved to my own satisfaction that Ning Cheng Gong arranged the attack on the Chiwewe ivory godown.  Michael arrested the claret glass on the way to his lips.  Oh dear.  Now I see what it's all about.

Johnny Nzou was your pal, I remember.  But Ning!  Are you sure?  He's an ambassador, not a gangster.  He's both, Daniel disagreed.  His hatchet man was a Sikh from Lilongwe, name of Chetti Singh.  They have quite a few secrets between them.  Not only ivory, but everything else from drugs to diamonds.  Chetti Singh.  I've heard that name recently.

Mike thought for only a second.  Yes, on the news this morning.  He was mauled by his own pet leopard, wasn't he?  His expression changed again. Just about the time you were in Lilongwe.

What a coincidence, Danny.  Has it got anything to do with your arm being in a sling, and your smug expression?  I'm a reformed character, you know me, Daniel assured him.  Would never dream of any rough stuff, but I did find out something from Chetti Singh during my brief chat to him before the unfortunate incident with the leopard.  It's something that might interest you spooks at MI6.  Michael looked pained.  Ladies present, old boy.  We don't mention the firm like that.  Never bruit it about.  had form.  Wendy stood up.  On second thoughts, I will go and keep an eye on Cheffie.  I'll be ten minutes, enough time for boy talk, I hope.  She took her wine-glass with her.  Coast clear, Michael murmured.  Fire away, Danny.  Chetti Singh tells me that there is a coup being set up in Ubomo.  Omeru is going to get the chop.  Oh, dear me; not Omeru.  He wears a white hat.  One of the good guys.  That will never do.  Have you any details?  Not many, I'm afraid.  Ning Cheng Gong is in it, and his family, but not as principals, I suspect.

I think they are merely eager sponsors of the proposed revolution, with expectations of rights and privileges later on.  Michael nodded. Usual set-up.  They get a slice of the pie when the new ruler of Ubonio divides it up.  No idea who he will be?  None, I'm afraid, but it will be soon.  My bet is within the next few months.  We'll have to get a warning to Omeru.  The PM might want to fly in an SAS battalion to guard him.  I know she's particularly pro the old boy and Ubonio is, after all, a member of the Commonwealth.  I'd be obliged if you could check up on Ning Cheng Gong while you're at it, Mike.  He's gone, Danny.  Flown the coop.

Spoke to my opposite number in Harare only this morning.  Of course, I knew of your interest in him, so I dropped the question into the conversation.

Ning held a farewell party at the Chinese embassy on Friday evening and flew home on Saturday.  Damn it, Daniel exclaimed.  That shoots down all my plans.  I was going to go down to Harare Wouldn't have been a good idea, Michael broke in.  It's one thing feeding an ordinary law-abiding citizen to his own leopard, but one can't go around beating up ambassadors.  It's considered very poor form indeed.  He's no longer ambassador, Daniel pointed out.  I could follow him to Taiwan.  Another very mediocre idea, if you don't mind my saying so.

Taiwan is Ning's home wicket.  From what I hear, his family all but owns the island.  Whole place is sure to be bristling with Ning's uglies.  If you're determined to play the avenging angel, best bide your time.  If what you tell me is correct, Ning will be back in Africa soon.  Ubomo is a nice neutral turf, better than Taiwan.  At least I could back you up there.  We've got an office in Kahah, the capital, in fact there is a chance that- Michael broke off.  Bit premature, but there is talk that I may be sent to Kahah on my next posting.  Daniel stared into his glass, swilling the contents slowly as though admiring the ruby lights in the wine.  At last he sighed and nodded.  You're right, as always.  He grinned at Michael ruefully.

I was getting carried away, besides which I'm terrifyingly short of cash.

Doubt I could raise the airfare to Taipei.  Never have believed it of you, old boy.  Thought you were rolling in the filthy stuff.  Always been green with envy.  All those million-dollar TV contracts.

Everything I have is wrapped up in those video cassettes you sent to London for me.

Not worth a damn until I cut and dub them.  That's what I'll have to do right now.  Before you go, you'd better give me a briefing on all you know about this pair, Singh and Ning.  I'll follow up on my side, in case.  . . In case anything happens to me, Daniel finished for him.

Never said that, old boy.  Perish the thought.

Although this time you do seem to have picked on a pair of heavyweights.

I'd like to leave my Landcruiser and all my gear here in Lusaka with you in the usual way, if that isn't inconvenient?

Pleasure, dear boy.  My home is your home.  My garage is your garage.

Feel free.

The next morning Daniel returned to the Hargreaves' home.

Michael was at work, but Wendy and her domestic staff helped him unpack the Landcruiser.  His equipment was stiff with dust and the accumulated filth of six months bush living.  Between them they cleaned it all and repacked it into the vehicle.  They threw away the perishables and Daniel made a list of replacements.

Then he parked the Landcruiser in the spare garage, and put the battery on charge, ready for his next expedition, whenever that might be.

When Michael came home for lunch from the High Commission, he and Daniel spent an hour sequestered in his study.

After that the three of them split a bottle of wine, sitting under the Morula trees beside the swimming-pool.

I passed on your message to Lcmdon, Michael told him.  Apparently Omeru is in London at the moment.  The Foreign Office had an urgent word with him, but it didn't do much good, by all accounts.  Without chapter and verse, and your intelligence was rather vague, the old boy pooh-poohed the idea of a coup.  "My people love me," he said, or words to that effect.  "I am their father.  " Turned down the PM's offer of support.

Nevertheless Omeru is cutting short his visit, and going back to Ubomo, so we might have done some good.  Probably sent him straight into the jaws of the lion, Daniel said morosely, and watched Wendy heaping his plate with fresh salad grown in her own vegetable garden.

Probably, Michael agreed cheerfully.  Poor old brighter.

Speaking of lion's jaws, and that sort of thing, I have more news for you.  I buzzed our man in Lilongwe.  Your friend Chetti Singh is off the danger list.  Hospital describes his condition as "serious but stable," although they did have to amputate one arm.  Seems as though the leopard chewed it up rather thoroughly.  Wish it had been his head.