Elephant Song - Smith Wilbur - Страница 36
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Daniel had not been in Zimbabwe when ]an Smith's white regime finally capitulated. His disloyalty had been discovered by Rhodesian intelligence. Warned of his impending arrest by other members of his group, Daniel had fled the country. Had he been captured he would certainly have faced a firing squad. He had only dared return once the country had changed its name to Zimbabwe and the new order, led by Robert Mugabe, had come to power.
When first he had met him, Daniel's relationship with Michael had been detached and professional, but mutual respect and trust had finally transformed it into genuine friendship, which had survived the years.
Michael poured him a whisky and they chatted and reminisced until Wendy called them to the dinner-table. Home cooking was a treat for Daniel, and Wendy glowed with gratification at his performance with knife and fork.
With the brandy Michael asked, So what about this favour? Two favours, actually. Runaway inflation, speak up, my lad. Could you possibly arrange to have my film tapes sent back to London in the diplomatic bag?
They are more valuable than life itself. I wouldn't trust them to the Zambian post office. That's an easy one, Michael nodded. I'll get them away in tomorrow's bag. What about the other favour? I need some information on a gentleman named Ning Cheng Gong. Are we likely to know him? Michael asked. You should. He's Taiwan's ambassador to Harare. In that case, we will certainly have a file on him. Is he friend or foe, Danny? I'm not sure, not at this stage, anyway. Don't tell me, then.
Michael sighed and pushed the brandy decanter across to Daniel. I should have a computer print-out for you before noon tomorrow. Shall I send it around to the Ridgeway? Bless you, old son. I owe you another one. And don't you forget it, Danny boy. It was an enormous relief to get rid of the tapes that Jock had shot. They represented a gruelling year's labour. and almost Daniel's entire worldly wealth. He believed so strongly in this new project that he had decided that, contrary to his usual practice, he would not seek outside financing. He had put everything he owned at risk, almost half a million dollars that he had painfully accumulated over the last ten years since he had become a fulltime out or and television producer.
So Daniel's tapes went out the following morning with the diplomatic courier on the British Airways flight and would be in London within twelve. hours. Daniel had consigned them to Castle Studios where they would be in safe keeping until he could begin the editorial work to transform it into another one of his productions. He had almost settled on a title for the series, Is Africa Dying? Rather than entrust it to a messenger, Michael Hargreave personally delivered the computer print-out on Ning Cheng Gong to Daniel at the hotel. Nice [ad you've picked on, he commented.
I haven't read it all, just enough to find out that the Ning family is not one to trifle with. Take it easy, Danny; these are big boys.
He handed over the sealed envelope. Just one condition. As soon as you have read it, I want you to burn it. Do I have your word on that?
Daniel nodded in agreement and Michael went on, I've brought along an askari from the High Commission to guard your Landcruiser for you. You daren't leave a vehicle untended on the street, not in Lusaka. Daniel took the envelope up to his hotel room and ordered a pot of tea. When it arrived he locked the door, stripped to his underpants and lay on the bed.
The print-out ran to eleven pages, all of them fascinating.
Johnny Nzou had given him only an inkling of the wealth and importance of the Ning family.
Ning Heng H'Sui was the patriarch. His holdings were so diversified and cross-pollinated with international companies and offshore holdings in Luxembourg, Geneva and Jersey that the author of the report admitted laconically at the end of this section, List of holdings probably incomplete. Going over the data more attentively, Daniel thought he perceived a subtle shift in investment emphasis dating from about the time of Ning Cheng Gong's appointment to his ambassadorial post in Africa. Although the Ning family holdings were still centred on the Pacific rim, the investments in Africa and in Africa-based companies had risen to a significant percentage of the entire portfolio.
Turning the page, he discovered that the computer had analysed this and determined that within six years the African section had increased from zero to just under twelve percent of the total. There were large holdings in South African mining conglomerates, and in African land and food production companies, and even larger holdings in forestry estates, paper pulp mills and cattle and sheep ranches, all in Africa, south of the Sahara. It didn't take any clairvoyant gift to surmise that Ning Cheng Gong had pointed the family in this direction.
On page four of the computer print-out, Daniel read that Ning Cheng Gong was married to a Chinese girl from another rich Taiwanese family.
The marriage had been arranged by the respective families. The couple had two children: a son born in 1982 and a daughter in 1983.
Cheng's interests were listed as oriental music and theatre and collecting oriental art, especially jade and ivory artefacts.
He was an acknowledged expert on ivory netsuke. He played golf and tennis and sailed. He was also an expert in the martial arts, having reached the Fourth Dan. He smoked moderately and drank alcohol socially. He did not use any type of narcotic and the only weakness which the report suggested might be used as leverage or influence was that Ning Cheng Gong regularly patronised the high-class brothels of Taipei. His special sexual tastes seemed to lean towards acting, out elaborate fantasies of an overtly sadistic nature. In 1987 one of the brothel girls had died during one of these performances. The family had obviously been able to quell any scandal, for no charges were ever brought against Cheng. Mike was right, Daniel conceded as he laid aside the print out. He is a big boy and well protected. Best take it one careful step at a time. Chetti Singh first. If I can establish a connection, that might be the key. As he dressed for dinner he kept turning the pages of the report on the dressing-table to make certain he had not overlooked any connection with Malawi or with Chetti Singh.
There was none and he went down to dinner feeling depressed and discouraged. The role he had chosen for himself as Johnny Nzou's avenger was daunting.
There. were both smoked Scotch salmon and roast sirloin of milk-fed Charollais beef on the five-page menu. However, when he ordered these the waiter shook his head regretfully. Sorry, no got.
It swiftly developed into a guessing game. Sorry, no got. The waiter looked genuinely distressed as Daniel worked his way unsuccessfully through the menu until Daniel noticed that everyone else in the dining-room was eating stringy roast chicken and rice.
Yes, got chicken and rice. The waiter beamed approval. What you want for dessert? By now Daniel had learned the trick. He checked the other tables. How about banana custard?" The waiter shook his head.
No got.
But Daniel could tell by his expression that he was getting warm.
Daniel stood up and crossed to a Nigerian businessman at the next table.
Excuse me, sir, what is that you are eating? He returned to his own table. I'll have Banana Delight, he said, and the waiter nodded happily. Yes, tonight got Banana Delight.
This little comedy restored Daniel's good humour and sense of the ridiculous. AWA, Daniel reassured him. Africa Wins Again. And the waiter looked delighted at such obvious praise and encouragement.
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