The Devil’s Kingdom

Chapter 63

Ben stood at the window of the farmhouse kitchen at Le Val and looked out at the November rain. Storm, the German shepherd, sat by his side, his nose an inch from the cold glass, misting it up with his panting. It was obvious from the way the dog kept glancing up with a melancholy kind of frown that he was anxious about something. Ben rubbed the silky fur between Storm’s big pointy ears.

‘Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere, not for a while. That’s a promise. You’ve got me all to yourself from now on, okay?’

Storm yawned a toothy GSD smile, pressed himself against Ben’s leg and seemed reassured, even if he’d heard such promises before.

Jeff had taken Tuesday into Valognes to get the stitches removed from his arm, which was healing well. Ben’s own injuries were slowly fading. Soon, he’d be able to look in the mirror without being constantly reminded of what would come to be known as ‘the Africa thing’. Since their return neither he, nor Jeff, nor Tuesday had been willing to talk much about the experience. They all just wanted to move on.

That wouldn’t be easy. None of those involved would ever deny that the episode would leave an imprint on their lives forever; time would never fully erase some of the memories they’d brought home with them, which Ben knew would haunt his dreams for many years to come.

And yet, as he stood savouring a Gauloise and watching the raindrops trickling down the windowpane, he had to reflect on the positive things that had, in the end, come about as a result of their journey into Jean-Pierre Khosa’s kingdom.

It was good to know that Jude was happy again. All four of them had returned to Le Val together, but it hadn’t been more than a few days before Jude had packed a bag and run off to Paris to catch a flight to Chicago. He was still there now. Ben hadn’t heard from him since his departure and didn’t know when he might see him again, but he often thought of Jude and Rae together, and was glad that the relationship seemed to have blossomed into something good for them both. They needed it, after what they’d been through. If they stayed together and anyone asked them how they met, it should make for an interesting tale.

But Jude’s and Rae’s happiness wasn’t all that had come about.

Ben had thought long and hard about whether to accept Tarik Al Bu Said’s offer. He could still remember the moment, as clearly as if it had happened minutes ago. A disused warehouse full of dead bodies, in a sordid dockyard in a city Ben never wanted to see again, was a strange setting in which to have your life potentially change forever for the better, and those of others around you.

Tarik had left the subject till last, cleverly fishing to gauge Ben’s reaction before he came out with it. Then, putting his arm around Ben’s shoulders, he’d told him about the reward that the Al Bu Said family had put up in return for the return of the Star of Africa diamond — more importantly, in return for justice for the men who had murdered Hussein, Najila, Salma, and Chakir. The humble sum of $20 million dollars was, the family felt, due recompense without running the risk of offending anyone’s sensibilities by an overly ostentatious display of wealth.

‘It is yours,’ Tarik told Ben. ‘And you will please not do me and my family the dishonour of turning it down.’

If there hadn’t been for the others who stood to benefit, Ben would have turned it down, dishonourably or not. But he wasn’t alone in this. And so, after a lot of thought, and after they’d seen Rae tearfully fly off to Chicago, Ben and Tarik had shaken hands for the third and last time.

The money had already arrived by the time Ben, Jude, Jeff, and Tuesday had reached Le Val, although it hadn’t been until a couple of days later that Ben had told them about it and gathered them around the old pine table in the kitchen, over a bottle or three of wine, to explain to his stunned audience how he intended to divide it up.

Sizwe was still in Brazzaville, living at Mama’s and unsure of anything in his immediate future except his desire to adopt Juma as his own son. Ben planned to give Sizwe $5 million with which to build a new life for them both. Another $10 million was to be allocated to a tax-free trust fund Ben had already started setting up, which would provide a comfortable future and education for little Mani, Akia, Sefu, Steve, and Fabrice, in the capable care of Mama Lumumba. $2 million would go to Le Val, to repay the business for the severe financial hit it had taken over the ‘Africa thing’, and maybe help it expand a little more.

A further million of the reward money was already in another fund Ben had set up for Jude, much to Jude’s initial protest and refusal when he heard this news. Jude settled, though, when Ben told him he intended to donate an equal amount to help Rae pursue her crusade against the illegal coltan trade in Africa, on the strict promise that neither she nor Jude would endanger themselves by ever returning to the Congo. Rae already had all the evidence she needed to sink the corporate players involved.

On those terms, Jude grudgingly accepted Ben’s deal.

So far, that accounted for nineteen of the twenty million.

What of the rest?

Ben didn’t want to be rich. Never had been, never would be, never gave it much thought. But with a cushion under him, he would no longer need to sell his place in Paris. It would give him peace of mind, and who didn’t want peace of mind?

As for the roving life he’d lived since leaving Le Val in Jeff’s hands, drifting around Europe and the wider world getting himself into all manner of scrapes and generally honing his talent for trouble — that was over now. From this moment onwards, all that lay before him was a life of peace and quiet.

Or so Ben liked to tell himself.

Then again, who could ever really predict what the future held?