They shook hands. Chipende was a black African who offered a grin full of white teeth. 'Call me Chip; everyone does.' His English was almost accentless; just a hint of East African sing-song. Nair Singh was a turbanned Sikh with a ferocious black beard and a gentle smile.
As Stafford sat down Hardin said, 'The beer's not bad; cold and not too alcoholic.'
'Okay, a beer.' Stafford noted that it was probably too alcoholic for the Sikh who sat in front of a soft drink. He looked at Curtis and raised his eyebrows.
Curtis said, 'Back in London I thought we might need friends who know the territory and the language, so I made a few enquiries and got an address.'
'Our address,' said Chip. 'We work well; turn our hands to anything.'
Stafford kept his eye on Curtis. 'Where did you get the address?'
He shrugged. 'Friends, and friends of friends,' he said carelessly.
'You have useful friends.' Curtis was playing the old soldier, and Stafford knew he would get nothing more out of him -not then. He turned to the others. 'Do you know the score?"
Nair said, 'You want people watched.'
'Unobtrusively,' added Chip. He paused. 'And maybe you'll want more.'
'Maybe.' A waiter put down glasses and beer bottles. 'All right. A man arrives tomorrow from London. Gunnarsson, an American. I want to know where he goes and what he does.'
Chip poured himself some beer. 'Can be done.'
'There'll be two others; Hendrix, another American; and Farrar, an Englishman. Hendrix is important Farrar less so. And there'll be another man also Hendriks, but spelled differently.' He explained the difference.
Hardin said, 'You want Dirk tailed?' His voice held mild surprise.
'Why not?' Stafford poured beer, tasted it and found it refreshingly cold. 'Does anyone know anything about the Ol Njorowa Foundation?'
'Ol Njorowa?' said Chip. The name slipped more smoothly off his tongue than it had off Stafford's. 'That's near Naivasha.'
'An agricultural college,' said Nair. 'Doing good work, so I hear. I know someone there; a scientist called Hunt.'
That interested Stafford. 'How well do you know him?'
'We were at university together.' Nair pointed. 'Across the road there. We drank too much beer in this place.' He smiled. 'That was before I returned to my religion. I see him from time to time.'
That interested Stafford. 'How well do you know him?'
'We were at university together.' Nair pointed. 'Across the road there. We drank too much beer in this place.' He smiled. 'That was before I returned to my religion. I see him from time to time.'
'Could you introduce me? In an unobtrusive way?'
Nair thought for a moment. 'It's possible. When?'
'Today, if you can. I'd like to find out more about the Foundation before Gunnarsson arrives.'
'It will have to be at Naivasha. Who will be going apart from you?'
'Ben will be along. The Sergeant and Chip will stay to look after Gunnarsson tomorrow morning.'
Nair nodded and stood up. 'I'll make the arrangements. Be back soon.'
Stafford took a bigger sample of beer. 'Sergeant; I need suitable clothing or 'I'll melt away."
He said, 'I'll see that the Colonel is fitted out.'
'You want a safari suit like this,' said Chip, fingering his own jacket. He smiled. 'You'd better go with Nair after lunch. You look too much the tourist. He'll get you a better price.'
Hardin handed Stafford a menu. 'Talking about lunch"
They ordered lunch and another beer each all round a soft drink for Nair. When he came back he said, 'Everything fixed. We'll have dinner with Alan Hunt and his sister at the Lake Naivasha Hotel. It's part of the same chain as the Norfolk so I booked rooms for tonight. Is that all right?'
'That's fine.'
Lunch arrived and they got down to it.
That afternoon Stafford was fitted out with a safari suit in less than an hour in one of the Indian shops near the market. Nair did the chaffering and brought the price down to a remarkably low level. Stafford ordered two more suits, then they set out for Naivasha, Nair driving and Hardin sitting in the back of the Nissan.
Outside town the road deteriorated, becoming pot-holed with badly repaired patches. When Stafford commented on this Nair said ruefully, 'It is not good. You would not think that this is an arterial highway the main road to Uganda. The government should repair it properly and stop the big trucks.'
'Yeah,' said Hardin. 'The main liquids in this country seem to be beer and gasoline.'
Stafford found what he meant when they passed Limuru and started the descent of the escarpment into the Rift Valley.
The drop was precipitous and the road wound tortuously round hairpin bends. They were stuck behind a petrol tanker and in front of that was a big truck and trailer loaded with Tusker beer. The Nissan ground down in low gear, unable to overtake in safety, until Nair made a sound of exasperation and pulled off the road.
'We'll let them get ahead,' he said. 'This low gear work makes the engine overheat.' He opened the door of the car. 'I will show you something spectacular.'
Stafford and Hardin followed him through trees to the edge of a cuff. He waved. 'The Rift!'
It was a tremendous gash in the earth's surface as though a giant had struck with a cleaver. Stafford estimated a width of twenty miles or more. In the distance the waters of a lake glinted. Nair pointed to the hills on the other side. 'The Mau Escarpment and that is Lake Naivasha. The mountain there is Longonot, a volcano, and the Ol Njorowa College is just the other side. You can't see the buildings from this angle.'
'How far does the Rift stretch?' asked Hardin.
Nair laughed. 'A long way. Four thousand miles, from the Lebanon to Mozambique. It's the biggest geological scar on the face of the earth. Gregory, the first white man to identify it, said it would be visible from the moon. Neil Armstrong proved it. Here, at this place, Africa is being torn in two.' He caught Stafford eyeing him speculatively. 'I studied geology at university,' he said dryly.
'And what do you do now, Nair?'
'I'm a courier, showing tourists around Kenya.' He turned. 'The road should be clear now.'
As Stafford walked back to the car he wondered about that courier bit. Perhaps it was true, perhaps not. And perhaps it was true but not the entire truth. This friend of a friend of Sergeant Curtis was a shade too enigmatic for his liking. 'And Chip? Is he a courier, too?'
'Why, yes,' said Nair.
They got to the floor of the Rift Valley unhampered by beer trucks, although a steady procession was grinding up the hill, going the other way. Once on the level Nair increased speed. They passed a road going off to the left across the valley. Nair said, 'That's the road to Narok and the Masai Mara. You ought to go there many animals.'
Stafford grunted. 'I'm not here for sightseeing.' Thereafter Nair was silent until they arrived at the hotel.
It was a low-slung building, painted white with a red, tiled roof and, but for the row of rooms set to one side, it could have been a gentleman's country house. They registered and found their rooms. Stafford shared with Hardin and, as soon as they were alone, he said, 'What do you know about this pair Chip and Nair?'
Hardin shrugged. 'No more than you. The Sergeant was tight-mouthed.'
'He said he had connections here, but that was a long time ago, during the Mau-Mau business. At that time Chip and Nair wouldn't have been long out of kindergarten. I think 'I'll have to have a serious talk with him when we get back to Nairobi.'
Stafford had a quick shower before they assembled on the lawn in front of the hotel. It was six o'clock; the cocktail hour, and groups of guests were sitting at tables knocking back the pre-prandial booze while watching the sun dip below the Mau Escarpment beyond the lake. He ordered gin and tonic, Hardin had a Seagram's, while Nair stuck to his lemon squash.
A dachshund was chasing large black and white birds quite unsuccessfully; they avoided his mad rushes contemptuously. Nair said, 'Those are ibis; quite a lot of them around here. There are also pelicans, marabou storks and cormorants all around the lake.' He pointed at an incredibly multi-coloured bird, gleaming iridescently in blues, greens and reds, which was hopping among the tables. 'And that's a superb starling.'
'You seem to know a lot about birds,' Stafford said. 'For a geologist.'
'A courier must know a lot if he's to please his clients,' Nair said blandly. 'Will you need a cover story for Alan Hunt?'
The switch in subject matter was startling. Stafford looked at him thoughtfully, and said, 'I thought Hunt was your friend. Would you con him?'
Nair shrugged, 'As I said, I try to please my clients. I told him you were about to visit the geo-thermal project at Ol Karia; that's about two kilometres the other side of Hell's Gate.'
'But I know damn-all about it.'
'You don't have to know anything. You're going there as a vaguely interested visitor. They're drilling for steam to power an electricity generating plant. It's very interesting.'
'No doubt. Tell me, Nair; why are you doing this for me? Why are you playing along?'
He toyed with the iron bangle he wore on his wrist. 'Because I was asked,' he said. 'By a good friend in England.'
Stafford looked at Hardin. 'What do you think of that?' ' He grinned. 'Not much.'
Nair said earnestly, 'Just be thankful that we're here to help you, Mr Stafford.'
Stafford sighed. 'Since we're on first name terms you'd better call me Max.' He added something pungent in Punjabi. Nair lit up and responded with Punjabi in full flow. Stafford said, 'Whoa, there! I wasn't in the Punjab long enough to learn more than the swear words. I was there for a short time as a boy just after the war; my father was in the Army. It was at the time of Partition.'
'That must have been a bad time,' Nair said seriously. 'But I've never been to India; I was born in Kenya.' He looked over Stafford's shoulder. 'Here is Alan Hunt now.'
'That must have been a bad time,' Nair said seriously. 'But I've never been to India; I was born in Kenya.' He looked over Stafford's shoulder. 'Here is Alan Hunt now.'
Hunt was a tall, tanned man, blond with hair bleached almost white by the sun. He was accompanied by his sister, a shade darker but not much. Nair made the introductions and Stafford found her name was Judy. A hovering waiter took the order for another round of drinks.