Windfall

Stafford nodded. 'Dirk Hendriks and Henry Hendrix are both heirs under the Hendrykxx estate.'

'A South African and an American,' said Chip thoughtfully. 'Sounds improbable, doesn't it, Nair?'

'Highly improbable,' said Nair, the eternal echo.

'They're both grandsons of old Hendrykxx,' said Stafford.

'The family got scattered and the names got changed. Nothing impossible about that.'

'I didn't say impossible," said Chip, and added, 'Seven million sterling is a lot of money. I wonder what the Trustees think of it, Nair.'

Nair smiled through his beard. 'I should think they are delighted.'

Stafford said, 'I wish I could check out Brice; he seems too good to be true.'

'What would you want to know?" asked Chip.

'I'd like to know if Mr and Mrs Brice had a farm near Umtali in Zimbabwe. I'd like to know if the farm was burned and the Brices killed by guerillas. I'd like to know if their son… what's his name, anyway?'

'Charles,' said Nair. 'Charles Brice.'

'I'd like to know if their son, Charlie, left when he says he did.'

'I think we could find that out,' said Chip seriously.

'How?'

'I think our brothers in Zimbabwe would co-operate. Wouldn't you say so, Nair?'

'I think they would,' said Nair. 'I'll see to it.'

Stafford took a deep breath. 'You boys seem to have an extensive organization.'

'People are supposed to help and support each other,' said Chip, smiling. 'Isn't that what Christianity teaches? So we're helping y ou.' 'At the request of some Indian in London?' said Stafford incredulously. 'At the request of Curtis? Pull the other leg, it's got bells on it. What do you think, Sergeant?'

'It does seem rum, sir,' said Curtis.

Chip looked hurt. 'I don't think Max appreciates us, Nair.'

Nair said, 'Suspicion corrodes the soul, Max.'

'Oh, balls!' he said. 'Look, I appreciate your help but I doubt your motives. I'll be quite plain about that. I don't know who you are and I don't know what you want. The helping hand you are so kindly offering is bloody unnatural, " and Christianity hasn't got a damned thing to do with it. Nair isn't even a Christian, and I doubt if you are, Chip.'

Chip smiled.' "Him that is weak in the faith receive ye, but not to doubtful disputations." Romans 14:1.1 was educated in a mission school, Max; I'll bet I know more of the Bible than you. Don't be weak in the faith, Max; and let's not have any doubtful disputations. Just accept.'

'Chip is right,' said Nair. 'Is there anything else you'd like us to do?'

It was obvious to Stafford that he was not going to get anything out of this pair that they did not want him to know. If they were members of a banned political organization then it was obvious they would be careful. But he wished he knew why they were being so damned helpful. He was sure it was not because they liked the colour of his eyes.

Chip had been driving but at Narok Nair took over. Chip said, 'He's the better driver.'

'Will a better driver be needed?'

'You'll see.'

After Narok they left the asphalt and encountered the most God-awful road it had been Stafford's fate to be driven over. He had been more comfortable in a tank going across country in NATO exercises in Germany. Where heavy rains had washed gullies across the road they had not been filled in and repaired, and the traffic of heavy trucks had worn deep longitudinal grooves. Several times Nair got stuck in those and Stafford heard the underside of the chassis scraping the ground.

'Manufacturers of exhausts must do a roaring trade out here.' He looked back and saw they were creating a long rooster's tail of dust. 'Why the hell don't they repair this road? Don't they encourage visitors to Masai Mara?'

Chip said, 'Narok District and the Government are having an argument about who pays. So far no one pays – except to the repair shops.'

Stafford took out the map he had bought in Nairobi and discovered they were driving across the Loita Plains. Every so often they passed villages of huts and sometimes a herdsman with his cattle. They were tall men with even taller spears and dressed in long gowns. Chip said they were Masai.

'What tribe are you?' Stafford asked.

'Kikuyu.'

Stafford remembered Hardin's lecture on African tribal politics. 'Not Luo?'

Chip slanted his eyes at Stafford. 'What makes you think I'd be Luo?'

'I haven't the slightest idea.' Chip frowned but said nothing.

They passed a petrol tanker that had not made it. It was overturned by the side of the road and burnt out. They crossed a narrow bridge and Stafford checked the map. There were only two bridges marked and, after the second, the road changed status from being a main road to a secondary road. He commented on this with feeling and Nair burst out laughing.

Oddly enough, after the second bridge the road improved somewhat. Game began to appear, small herds of antelope and zebra and some ostriches. Chip played courier to the ignorant tourist and identified them. 'Impala,' he would say, or 'Thomson's gazelle.' There were also eland and kongoni.

'Are we in the Reserve yet?' Stafford asked.