Mackenzie Ford - The Clouds Beneath the Sun

Natalie said nothing. Why was Sandys here? She suspected she was about to find out.

“Tudor has seen the case papers—they are passed to the judge as a matter of routine once a date is set. So he knows the nature of the evidence against Ndekei, he knows that your evidence is the main plank in our case.”

He paused, sipped some more water.

“We all know, Natalie, that the only way this case will not go forward is if you withdraw your testimony—now, before you jump down my throat, let me finish.” He raised his hand as if to stop her physically attacking him, though she had no intention of doing so. “I know how committed you are to giving evidence, how you feel loyalty to Richard Sutton, and to Professor North. I know how you feel that you must tell the court what you saw. And I know from Eleanor here that you are from a religious family, and that too affects your attitude. But I want to mention one argument that will, I hope, persuade you to change your mind.”

He leaned forward in his chair.

“This latest outrage by Tudor, and the fact that Ndekei will be sentenced to hang, perhaps on the very day that the independence talks begin in London, means that we could see riots in Nairobi, riots in which people—maybe dozens of people—could be killed. Is that what you want?”

He shook his head. “I appeal to you as a scientist, a pragmatist. I ask you to consider that circumstances have changed. I know that Eleanor has used the argument that the work of the gorge is of more importance than the life of one man. I happen to agree with her but I know you don’t and that’s not the argument I am using now. I simply point out that the situation has changed—with the appointment of Tudor as judge, following his behavior in this latest break-in case, with the date for the Ndekei trial being set when it is, and with the constitutional conference being set in London at the same time. All of which, taken together, means that this trial could be a major political event, it could inflame passions, it could set off riots, it could cause far more deaths than have occurred already.”

He wiped the palms of his hands with a handkerchief.

“All I’m saying is that, in the new circumstances, it would be natural for you to decide that you can’t be sure, anymore, of what you saw that night. You have already said that you didn’t see Ndekei’s face, but recognized him only from his shuffle. Anyone can make a mistake, read too much into what they saw in the night. If the figure wasn’t shuffling, it could have been anybody.”

Pause.

“But I did see him shuffling and in any case he has admitted the killing.”

“Yes, I know, we all know. But we all know too that he is not required to mount his defense until after the prosecution have presented their case. If there is no case to answer, he will not have to explain himself. The racial element, the tribal element, the tinderbox issue of skin color, will go away. By letting Ndekei go free, one individual, you may be saving many lives that will be lost if the case sparks rioting.”

A long pause.

Outside the shade of the tent, the sun beat down. The smell of diesel was strong today, so many vehicles had been used.

Natalie was sweating all over. Her shirt clung to her flesh, the damp, dark patches showing through. The cooling effect of the shower had quite worn off.

She wiped her brow with her sleeve.

She had rehearsed so many of Sandys’s arguments in her head over the days and weeks.

She shook her head. “I’m sorry, but nothing of what you have just said convinces me. I do recognize your arguments, of course I do. What Judge Tudor did was hateful, hateful . But I just don’t think a murder, the loss of a life, can be swept under the carpet—which is what you are suggesting, however many fine words you use to disguise it.”

She unbuttoned one sleeve of her shirt and rolled it up her arm. “I could, if I wished, paint a very different picture. I could say that the people of Kenya will be so obsessed by the independence conference in London that they will pay no attention to this trial—”

“You know that’s not true!” Sandys shouted.

“No!” cried Eleanor at the same time.

“But I have another argument that I’d like you to consider. One that you people outside the camp don’t know about.”

That got Sandys’s attention.

He looked at her without speaking.

She couldn’t tell him what Kees had said about Richard Sutton’s sexuality. He, Kees, was sitting right across the table, unaware of the significance of what he had said. And it might not be true anyway. But she could tell Sandys about the threats made by Richard Sutton Senior while he was in her tent during his visit. She spoke about his promise to make her life a misery, to ruin her career, if she didn’t give evidence. She did her best to remember the exact words Sutton had used when he had threatened her.

When she had finished, they all sat in silence for a while, their breathing the only sound.

“Isn’t that all a bit… well, extreme?” Sandys said at length. “I mean, are you sure you are not reading too much into his words?”

“Oh no!”

To Natalie’s surprise, Eleanor spoke up for her. “Here I’m on Natalie’s side, Max. Richard Sutton Senior is a very unpleasant man. When I showed him round the gorge—this was early in his visit, and Natalie was not present—he made threats to me too. He said that if Natalie didn’t give evidence I would regret it, that his people in the construction business had the power to make our lives … ‘very difficult’ were the words he used.”

“Melodramatic, I agree,” said Sandys. “But anything more than that?”

“Why don’t you find out for us, Max?”

All eyes turned to Eleanor.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re the deputy attorney general. The British government must have a legal counsel or a police liaison officer at its consulate in New York. Set them on the case. If Richard Sutton is as sinister as he makes out, it shouldn’t be too difficult to smoke out what pies he’s had fingers in. All it takes is a phone call from you, to set things in motion.”

Max looked at Jeavons. Before he could say anything, Eleanor went on, “He won’t be expecting us to check him out. He probably thinks we are unworldly academics who don’t know the difference between a felony and a misdemeanor.”

“Do you know the difference between a felony and a misdemeanor?” said Sandys with a smile.

“I think so,” said Eleanor, smiling back. “What Ndekei did was a felony. So will you do it, Max? For me, for us?”

“Ah!” thought Natalie. This was an interesting exchange. Eleanor clearly had some sway with Sandys, still, so maybe the rumors about an affair were true, after all. Watching them, it was as if they tried to keep their familiarity with each other out of sight, but it kept breaking through. They had a past together, Natalie was more certain of it now.

“I’ll see what I can do, Eleanor, but how will it change things, how will it help?”

“Oh, it will help all right, I can assure you. Just find out what you can and let me know, let us know, as soon as possible. Now, let’s have lunch.”

Over lunch, all talk revolved around Jeavons, as they filled him in on the work being done in the gorge. He was not a scientist by training—he was a politician, a lawyer—but he seemed interested enough, asking intelligent questions and listening carefully to the answers. It turned out that he was the member of Parliament for Rossington, a constituency adjoining Gainsborough, so he and Natalie had that in common. She asked him what the main local issues were, politically speaking. He replied that one was housing—there was a great need for more council houses, even this long after the war—and that race was becoming a problem. West Indians were moving into the area that had been whites only until recently.