Amid sex and sleaze, Government plots to stop Peter Abel’s Investigation

20 Oct Amid sex and sleaze, Government plots to stop Peter Abel’s Investigation

Governor Huud met Party Chairman Timo Tiko in the chairman’s palatial home. Tiko, with the sang-froid of a man who had all he needed or would ever need, waved a glass of lemonade in the air, gesturing for Huud to calm himself.

Huud had called him the previous day, just after Doctor Camp had walked out of his office. Although he had put Camp off, Huud could tell the man was not going to let go of the issue of money for deep-water wells. Camp was a passionate man, deeply moved by the plight of Tinnaka State’s citizens. This wouldn’t be the last they would hear from him. He was a troublemaker. And he was tenacious.

“Calm yourself, governor. Camp can huff and puff, but he hasn’t enough hot air, or evidence, to blow our house down.” Tiko took a self-satisfied sip of lemonade. The ice tinkled loudly in the tall glass.

Huud watched him, loathing the smug little man. It didn’t help that Tiko was sleeping with Huud’s wife. Since Rika seduced anything in pants capable of an erection, Huud shouldn’t really resent Tiko’s willingness to participate. But because of Tiko’s position, his was a difficult indiscretion to ignore. And it was doubly difficult when paired with Tiko’s indifferent attitude, one that said, “I’ve got mine so what’s the problem?”

Huud looked around the opulent surroundings and snorted derisively. “Maybe he can’t blow your house down, Timo — it’s rather large. But the rest of us are not so well insulated.”

Huud suspected Rika had been talking from the way Tiko looked at him. He knew what she had said, too. Rika must have warned Tiko that her husband was ultimately weak, too timid to play the political game as it needed to be played.  Tiko had nothing but contempt for anyone who stepped into the bullring of Nigerian power-brokering without the balls to win.

Huud could feel his blood pressure rise as he considered his wife’s sexual and intellectual betrayals with this man. But for now, he knew Tiko would try to placate him. Well, let him. Huud was convinced he had a right to be nervous.

“How do you know Camp is up to anything?” Tiko said. “Of course he’s going to complain about lack of funds. Every commissioner does. It’s expected of them. If they didn’t they could be accused of not doing their jobs.”

It was such a hopelessly simplistic attitude, but one Huud had been expecting. It confirmed that Tiko thought he was stupid and weak, qualities his wife often attributed to him. But Huud was neither. He allowed others to believe it was true because he enjoyed springing on them glimmers of the ruthless, shrewd player he really was. It threw them off balance and shifted the balance of power back to him. He was about to do that to Tiko.

“The Zodiac’s investigative reporter, Peter Abel. I have reason to believe he is working on a story about government corruption in Tinnaka State.”

Huud took satisfaction in seeing Tiko’s reaction – surprise swept the smug expression from his face.

“And what makes you think so?”

“I have many people on my payroll, Tiko. People you know nothing about. I paid one woman to stay close to Abel, since he’s one of those reporters who likes to stir up trouble. You remember the revealing story he did on during the elections? She told me he rushed off to a secret meeting one night recently.”

“Meeting with whom?”

“We’re not sure. I had Abel followed, but he slipped our tail. We found his car later, parked in an alley near Eko Bridge. At one in the morning. He finally returned to it alone. We don’t know who he was meeting at that hour, but obviously this was a meeting that had to be kept secret.”

“What else?”

“The next day he travelled to Limi and attended a rain dance Soto performed. He stayed nearby that night then returned to Lagos. I suspect he was in Limi investigating the water situation.”

Tiko nodded and Huud smiled, feeling this time he had trumped the man. But then Tiko waved his hand dismissively. “He’s on holiday in London. His trip there is purely for pleasure. Is that the behaviour of a man who is on an important story?”

This threw Huud.  He looked at Tiko, stunned. “How do you know he’s on holiday? He could be following a money trail.” Huud was truly panicked, not by the fact that Tiko seemed ahead of him yet again, but by the thought of a skilled reporter looking into his financial affairs.

“My dear governor, you have to trust me. My wife is there and she informed me of this. She has seen Abel and he has been close enough to know if he was working on a story.”

“What do you mean, ‘close enough?’” Huud said. How could the man be so damned sure of himself?

“My dear governor, I just told her to watch out for Abel. Woman have their own ways of getting what they want?

“Your…” Huud tried to hide his shock at Tiko’s willingness to pimp out his own wife. Tiko must have seen this because he became irritated.

“For Christ’s sake, Huud, grow up! We’re playing for very high stakes here!  The highest. And if using one of my wives can give us an advantage, I will do so. And you should have the same attitude. Don’t be so possessive.”

Huud was fuming. He wanted to murder the man on the spot.

Tiko must have read him.  “I would counsel you to be careful in your actions here, governor. You have your own desires to fulfil and who knows? Play your cards right and you might find happiness yourself.”

“What are you talking about?”

Tiko shook his head. “Women. And our love of them. Please, you think I don’t know about Deree?  And I know about Tali, one of my girlfriends.”

Huud couldn’t believe his ears. Somehow the man knew of his dalliance with Comfort Deree.  With Tali, it was an accidental one-night stand. How could he know?  Huud sat down, defeated. He chewed his lips, then suddenly found courage somewhere in his gut. “Tiko, I know about Rika. How you used her to get me into politics and how you still use her.  It’s a dirty business. Tiko.  So much evil can’t thrive for long.”

Tiko casually refilled his lemonade.

“Fine. The more reason we do what we do,” Huud said, “maybe Abel isn’t a problem. But Doctor Camp will not let up. He will stir up the populace. We need to handle the people. I put him off for a while by saying we’d find a political solution until we solve the well-digging crisis. But I have no idea what we should do.”

“First of all, there is no well-digging crisis. Next year, the European Union will send us more money. We will allocate half of it for the wells and half for our political needs. That is, paying off people to look the other way. Come, come, governor. In two more years, you will be a very wealthy man and can retire anywhere you choose with Deree.”

“Maybe we should find a way to build a few more wells now. Four or five…”

Tiko exploded at him. “Governor!  If we build more wells, it will only raise questions again, but in sharper relief, about the money. We have been saying there is nothing, then millions suddenly appear? It would raise too many suspicions and stir up other problems. Once some people get water, others will ask why they have none. Don’t be stupid!

Huud hunkered down, staring sullenly at the floor. He felt ridiculous, and he hated feeling that way. He was the governor and Tiko was his political godfather. He had no real power, no real say, and in truth, he wasn’t as adept at playing the system as this man.

But what of the people? Wasn’t he supposed to be helping them? Yes, he was, but it was too late. He had already stolen too much money and was in too deep. So he merely nodded and asked, “What do you suggest, Timo?”

Timo Tiko smiled, suddenly benign. He had Huud back in line and could treat him now with muted respect. “Go on television and radio. Declare a week of prayer and fasting to ask for God’s forgiveness and for rain. That will keep the peasants occupied. Cheer up, governor. For all we know, it may actually work.”

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As predicted, governor Huud’s plea in a press statement the following day, asking his people to fast and pray for rain, worked its magic on the large illiterate population.

Most of the intellectuals, of course, were disappointed by what they called inexcusable posturing. Those alarmed by the spectre of global warming and desertification were particularly livid. But they were a minority, the educated class, who stood impotent between the powerful who ruled and the masses that followed without question.

Doctor Camp heard the announcement on the radio in his office in stunned silence. This was Huud’s answer to the critical shortage of water?

As he fumed over this complete betrayal of the people of Tinnaka State, the phone rang. He ignored it, letting his secretary pick up. She buzzed him and he snatched the receiver from its cradle. “What?”

“Sorry to disturb you, commissioner, but your wife is on the line.”

“Alright, put her through.” Camp hung up and waited for the intercom to buzz so he could speak to his wife, Theodora. He already knew what she was calling to say.

“Idi, my God, did you see Huud’s speech?”

“I listened on the radio. I’m sure it was no better on TV.” Camp was too upset to want to talk, even to her.

“You can’t let this go unchallenged.” Camp closed his eyes. His wife was right of course. She always was. But what could he do? He was completely impotent.

“What am I supposed to do? Go to the press and call the governor an idiot?”

“Well, that’s a thought…”  Theodora was never one to pass up on irony. Camp smiled and laughed. She always managed to calm him, even in the direst of circumstances.

“I could resign.” Camp had been thinking about this for a while. He knew if he tried to fight Huud and his thugs, he’d be killed. He also didn’t want his family in danger. He simply wasn’t doing any good here. Let Peter Abel do what he could with this mess. Camp was tempted to go back to his old UN job. His boss there had told him if he ever wanted to return, he was more than welcome.

“Idi, people need you here. If you leave, there will be no voice of reason.”

There was a knock on the door and Camp looked up. Comfort Deree poked her head in, and Camp waved her forward. “I’ll talk to you later, my love.”

Camp hung up and sat back as Deree took a seat. “Did you hear the governor’s speech?” he asked as she settled in.

“Yes. I thought you might want to talk about it. How we can be supportive?”

Camp almost came out of his chair, but he remained calm, at least on the outside. He had always suspected Deree and the governor were somehow bound up, but he just didn’t know how. Now he began to suspect she was his inside person, placed near him to keep an eye on his activities and report back if she thought he was preparing to make trouble.

“I’d like to be supportive, Ms. Deree, but I’m a scientist first. I don’t know how to help him pray for rain. Perhaps I can start a cloud seeding programme to go along with the voodoo.”

Shit, he hadn’t really wanted to say that, and he saw Deree’s expression darken. He held up his hand. “Look, it’s been a bad day, and I don’t really think, as much as I wish I did, that prayer will stop this drought. We need to concentrate on hard science.”

Deree stood up and smiled. “Why don’t I see if I can’t arrange for some kind of seminar for you, the governor and his cabinet. Thinking about science is a good idea.”  She started to leave, then turned.

“I hope you know resigning is not an option.”

Camp stared at her. How did she know? “What makes you think I’m even considering that?”

“Your frustration is obvious. And I understand. But the governor needs the support of his people. And if you were to resign, it might undermine people’s faith in his leadership.”

“And calling for prayer to the gods won’t?”  Camp had once again let his feelings betray him. But he was getting tired of the game. He wondered how long he could hold on. He found himself wondering what, if anything, was going on with Peter Abel in London. Abel really was his last hope.

“I’m sorry, Comfort. That was uncalled for. I understand the governor is doing what he can to calm the people while we solve this problem. Of course he’ll have my support.”

Deree watched Camp and he knew she was wondering whether he was blowing smoke.

“I’ll get to work lining up that scientific seminar.” She left the room, apparently satisfied with his apology.

Camp threw a paper clip after her. It was harmless, but it at least allowed him to vent.

What he should have said was he needed an accountant or maybe a hundred to search the books and find out what happened to the money for the wells. What ailed the country wasn’t a lack of science. It was a lack of honest public servants.

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Two days later Camp sat alone in his study, writing the second paragraph of his letter of resignation. He hadn’t discussed this with Theodora because she would have talked him out of it. He needed at least to write the letter for his own peace of mind.

Camp remembered reading that Abraham Lincoln had the habit of dashing off an angry letter, then sticking the letter in his desk drawer for a few days. More often than not, he wound up throwing it out, unsent. It was Lincoln’s way of exorcising his fury without doing something foolish or burning a bridge he might need later.

Camp told himself this was just such a letter. He would be able to say everything on his mind, yet keep it private.  But as he wrote and as his anger grew, he began to consider actually delivering the letter.

The buzz of his telephone interrupted his thoughts. He cursed loudly, his eyes shifting back and forth between the paper in front of him and the telephone receiver.  He finally picked it up.

It was the governor. The last person he wanted to hear from. The man was sure to ask how Camp liked his speech the day before. Camp tried to frame an answer that wouldn’t create a deep rift between them. “You complete fool!” No, that wouldn’t do. “A brilliant stroke, sir.” No, he’d have to cut his wrists if he actually said that. Finally, he settled for a simple “Hello.” Neutral, safe and got the job done.

“Doctor Camp. I understand you have asked for a more scientific inquiry than we’ve done to date.”

So, Comfort Deree had run right back to the governor and parroted the conversation. “Yes, sir. That would be helpful. You know, I’m a scientist by trade and we tend to look for ways of controlling the environment while you politicians work on controlling the people.”

Camp wasn’t sure how that would go over. It was an insult, but at least veiled somewhat. Well sort of. But the governor laughed heartily.

“I take your meaning, doctor. And I agree. My job is to deal with the political realities. And you need to find a way of solving issues on the ground. But I want to help as much as I can.”

What on earth was the man talking about? Camp wondered.

“I will be truthful, here. The idea of a scientific conference was suggested to me yesterday, and it couldn’t have come at a better time.”

“Why is that?”

“The Zodiac is full of editorials excoriating my speech. They’re notoriously anti-government. They are calling me a superstitious fool.”

The mention of the paper for which Abel worked gave Camp a start. Once again, Camp worried that Huud knew he was talking to the reporter. But Abel was in London. He couldn’t have written any of the editorials.

“I haven’t seen the paper, sir.” That was a neutral as he could be.

“They decry my lack of twenty-first century thinking. As I said, I was going to do this anyway, but now I need to make it happen quickly. Tomorrow, you will attend a meeting here on global warming. We will show these people we are on top of the science, that while we call our people to prayer and sacrifices, we are also looking for solutions, twenty-first century ones.”

Camp felt another wave of anger surge in him, making his hands shake. He struggled to resist the temptation to tell Huud to go to hell. The man didn’t care about science. This was politics. And what had global warming to do with anything? They couldn’t stop it.  Besides, they had already had this conversation.

“But sir, funds and not global warming is our immediate problem…”

“Yes, it is. If it weren’t for global warming there would be no drought and thus no desertification and hence starvation or water shortages. We will show the world that Tinnaka State is up on these issues. Perhaps then the UN will act.”

So that was the second-stage strategy. First, calm the populace, or at least distract them with magic. Next, hold a showy conference on global warming which could then be used to rail at the world for causing all Nigeria’s food and water shortages.

The solution would never be discussed, digging wells. Huud would appear to be an enlightened leader fighting great odds against the world’s industrial giants. It was pure genius, really. But Camp felt sick because he might, inadvertently, have given Huud this out.

He told Comfort Deree he was a man of science. She had taken that one remark and gone to Huud and they had created a strategy to deflect any blame from the government. And of course, if Camp attended this conference, he would be giving it his blessing. Because of his work at the UN, he had an international reputation. People would see he was attending and think the whole enterprise was legitimate.

God, he hated this man!  But he was trapped, and he could only go along and pray that Peter Abel did his work quickly. Until Abel found the evidence of corruption and printed his exposé, Camp had to play along.

“Ten o’clock, doctor. You will be seated next to me at the dais. We have several climate experts who will speak, and I’ve asked the head of our Environmental Agency, Dr. Maka E. Maka, to give the keynote address.”

Dr. Maka was one of Huud’s prize possessions. He had left Nigeria as a child and to attend Harvard, then did graduate work at Yale in climatology. He was teaching at the University of Chicago when Huud begged him to return to Nigeria, much as he had cajoled Camp. Maka had agreed to come, but Camp suspected, given his lavish life style, that Maka had been “bought.” And if he was the keynote speaker on global warming, then he surely was in Huud’s pocket. Maka was the face of science for the administration, and he did exactly what Huud told him to do. Or more accurately, what Timo Tiko told him to do. This would be Maka’s big moment. It was his job to proclaim to the world that Nigeria’s problems weren’t internal, that they had been imposed from the outside.

After hanging up the phone, Camp sat for a long time staring at his half-finished letter of resignation. He finally shredded it and said a prayer for Peter Abel’s quick success.