To Philipp – Sandra’s husband – the idea of just calling his mother-in-law to talk her out of going to Kenya did not cut it.
He had to go Spain - right down to Marbella. He had to fly there to give her the facts and tell her in no uncertain terms why she could not go to Nairobi.
“So you are also coming?” he asked Sandra just as she was waking up.
“It’s a waste of time. She won’t listen to us,” she shot back.
“But she may die out there. Remember what happened last time she was in Nairobi.”
Sandra remembered that day like it was only yesterday. How she had been sitting by the phone the whole morning ….. the whole day …. and half the night.
She remembered that when her call finally came through, her mother had told her that she had just escaped an assassination attempt.
Two weeks later, John Kazzora had come to Zurich and had confirmed it.
And now her mother wanted to go back to that? No way, Philipp was going to let that happen.
“So, are you coming?” he asked Sandra again.
His wife slapped away the comforter, came up on her elbow and looked at her husband, “You really mean it?”
“Mean what?”
“That you are going to Spain?”
He nodded, “I have to protect my mother-in-law from doing something really stupid.”
“Protect her?” She smiled. Did he really know her mother ?
Walking toward the bathroom, he said, “I’m not going to work today. I want to fly to Malaga by about eleven and be back here by five o’clock.”
Sandra shrugged, “So let’s try it.”
On that note, they went to the bathroom, stripped and stepped into the big bathtub together.
Later, Philipp asked again why Marianne felt so committed to Kenya ….. why she still felt so attached, “Will she ever let go?”
Sandra – tears forming – shook her head. She knew her mother would never let go. She loved Kenya from the first moment she had set foot there. She loved the people.
Loved the nature. She had nursed big ambitions for Kenya. - And she had deeply fallen in love there. Had loved two very controversial men. Maybe still loved one of them. – So how could Philipp expect her mother to fust forget?
And then Sandra started to ask herself the same question – could she forget her life in Kenya – Nairobi and Mombasa? The way she had been spoilt as a young girl, how these two men had competed for her affection because of their love for her mother ?
“I take your silence as a no,” Greg said. “But I am still going to try. The only way to make your mother forget about Dr. Ouko and this testimony is to make her forget Kenya. She has to let Kenya go once and for all.”
Sandra scrubbed his back, “I doubt, she ever will.”
“But at least we can try.”
Sandra smiled. Good luck !
***********************************************
In London, Supt. Troon pulled out another file.
He had gone through all the others and was satisfied that if he had another chance to investigate this case, he would do it exactly the same way. He trusted the conclusions he had reached at that time.
But unhappy with himself for not having revealed how vicious the schemes against me in Nairobi were, he decided to call me.
When my phone rang, I practically ran to it, picked up and then blurted, “This is Marianne Briner-Mattern.”
I then I heard Troon laughing, “It’s not that official.”
“Thank God, it’s you. Anyway, what is going on?”
“I was just going through a couple of files –“ He put his finger on the paragraph he had called about, “I have found something that will interest you.”
“What is it?”
“Listen to this line: In my interview with Hezekiah Oyugi and the Head of State who denied me a chance to interview Mr. Nicholas Biwott, I determined that there was a vicious campaign to discredit Mrs. Marianne Briner and to damage her credibility completely. In the long run, I had to come to the conclusion that the three top guns were scathing because they wanted to get me off their backs.”
“You wrote that?” I asked.
“Yes. I also wrote that because of their behavior – and because of other uncovered facts – I had to conclude that they killed Dr. Ouko.”
“If you knew that, Supt. Troon, why did you not say it more categorically?”
“I already told you why.”
“You were worried?”
“It was tough. I guess, I was a little bit worried - yes.”
“About your security?”
“They tried to kill me ….. poison me.”
“So you buckled?”
He had to laugh. He knew that I was only kidding. Over the years we had become friends. I was seeking advise from him whenever anything related to Dr. Ouko and Kenya came up. And he had come to like my sense of humor.
Smiling, he said, “You are tough with me, Marianne.”
“It’s not about being tough. It’s about doing the right thing. It’s my view that by being scared, by being more concerned with our security, we have failed to mention all the reasons why Dr. Ouko was killed and by whom.”
“You really think so?”
“What I am saying is that we have now a last chance to correct things, make them right. I have already received my Summon and I intend to travel to Nairobi. This time I will say everything. Every damn shit ….”
“You know you are risking big. I want you to understand that …. But you have my full support. And let me just say this - I am proud of you, proud to be your friend.”
“Thank you – that means a lot coming from you. But one more question. What will you do should you be summoned?” I then asked.
Hearing this question, Troon shrugged. Summoned? Of course, I have been summoned. But why should Moi and Biwott let me return? Had I not practically accused them both of murder?
Convinced the two would not let him return – and aware of the fact that they still called the shots in Kenya – he said, “Actually, the Committee has summoned me already. But I doubt Moi and Biwott will allow me back into Kenya.”
“What if they do?” I pressed.
He kept quiet. Was that really possible?
Before he could answer, his wife knocked and came in the study. She mouthed, Breakfast is ready.
“If I get back to Nairobi, I will talk…… given how things have played out in the last decade and half, I have no other choice. I can’t let these guys get away with murder.”
“I like that.”
He sighed and then said, “Marianne, we owe it to Bob to talk. We have to help him to finally rest in peace.”
****
At the breakfast table, Mrs. Troon warned her husband to be extremely careful. “First of all, I am worried about you going back to Kenya. And second, you and other witnesses have the Kenyan Authorities all there was to say. If they wanted to prosecute the murderers, they have all the evidence they need on the table already.”
“No, they don’t,” he said.
Her eyebrows lifted, “What?”
“Marianne has more.”
“More what?”
To Be Continued Tomorrow
