Magestic 2, page 6
‘Mister Duval, please.’
The white manager bowed his head and fetched the boss as Jimmy took in the white colonial stock sat about in wicker chairs, the sedentary guests reading large newspapers and sipping lemonade.
‘How can I help?’ Duval asked with an accent.
‘I’d like rooms for my party, and I’d like to buy this hotel.’
‘This hotel, sir, is not for sale.’
Jimmy pulled out a pouch, and sprinkled a long line of diamonds onto the counter. Duval stared at the diamonds for a moment, before finally picking one up and examining it. He retrieved an eyepiece and examined a diamond in great detail.
‘Excellent workmanship. European, I believe. And these are worth four times the value of this hotel, sir.’
Jimmy took back a third of the diamonds. ‘Those … are yours if you sell your hotel to me right now.’
Duval took a moment, but then placed the diamonds into a white envelope, pocketing them. From a back room he retrieved a set of deeds and handed them over. ‘I will be gone in the morning.’
‘No hurry. But please, move out the guests, compensate them, put up a “closed” sign.’
‘As you wish.’ Duval faced the manager, who stood looking worried. ‘Arrange rooms for your new master.’
‘You … will be kept on,’ Jimmy told them man. ‘What do you earn?’
‘Three shillings a week, sir.’
‘That’s now four shillings a week. Kindly show my staff to their rooms.’
A few people had to double up, three soldiers in one room, but everyone got in, Po and Yuri sharing a room. The guests objected to being moved on, some actually living in the hotel full time, but they were well compensated. By noon the next day the hotel was both owned by Jimmy - and now closed to the public. The last few guests were kicked out, word sent down to Ngomo’s party, who now all moved across, many doubling up, some making use of the staff quarters for now.
That evening, everyone ate in the main restaurant, the white staff a little put out by the blacks in the mix, even the black waiters puzzled. Still, their wages had been doubled. Rudd was put in charge of the hotel for now, told to go out with Cosy and buy decent food and booze in the morning, whilst everyone else was told to start reading the local papers and to get up to speed on events and attitudes of Kenya in 1920, as well as world politics.
In small groups, people ventured out over the next few days, to get a feel for the city, many buying new clothes from local shops. Those clothes were odd, to say the least, and took some getting used to. There were no boxer shorts, just itchy woollen undergarments that the guys cut the legs off. Having done that, they itched all the more. Finding ladies silk underwear, shaped like boxers, the guys took to wearing those. Shirts came without collars, the collars separate and very stiff. Collars were attached after a shirt was placed on, a bow tie the norm. Hats around Nairobi were often straw and lightweight, light beige suits common, not too many dark suits - and no grey suits evident. And trousers, they had button flies, not zips, and took a little getting used to.
Jimmy bought two cars, everyone getting a turn at driving them at the rear of the hotel, the scientists fascinated by them. Then Jimmy tackled the local bank. He wandered in with Rudd and Cosy, Big Paul providing backup, and told the bank staff that the new owner of the Empire Hotel wished to open an account.
An old English gent appeared, showing Jimmy’s group to a side office. ‘How can I be of service?’
‘I’d like to open an account here, as well as establishing lines of credit in Mombasa - and many other cities in Africa.’
‘Very good, sir. And how much money did you wish to deposit?’
Jimmy handed over a wad. ‘Those English pounds for now, but I would like a loan against the diamonds I possess.’
‘Diamonds, sir?’
Jimmy handed over a pouch, pouring the diamonds onto the desk.
‘My, my. They … would be worth a very great deal, sir.’
‘Would it be possible for you to arrange the sale of some of them for me, perhaps in Europe. I would offer a ten percent fee.’
‘Ten percent … would be most generous, Mister Silo.’
‘If that process worked well, I would sell diamonds like that through you on a regular basis. In the meantime, please have them appraised and valued, credit given to me for … say, fifty percent.’
‘More than acceptable, sir. I’ll get the forms and open the account ready. You say … Mombasa? We have a branch there.’
‘I’ll be buying land to start an orphanage down there. This is Rudd and this is Cosy, my managers, and they will deal with you here and in Mombasa in my name.’
‘An orphanage? How much land do you wish to acquire? We could, naturally, handle the transaction and legal arrangements.’
‘I would like ten thousand acres of land.’
‘Ten … thousand?’
‘Yes, for the orphanage and its farmland.’
‘I … will send a telegram today, sir, to our branch in Mombasa.’
‘There is land near a village called Bel-ooto. I want land east of it, towards the sea.’
‘Very good, sir.’
‘And if you can recommend a building firm in Mombasa…’
‘Colonel Sir Clive Dawson, a member of my club, could accommodate you there. He has interests here and in Mombasa.’
‘Fine, kindly arrange a meeting at my hotel when it suits him. And, in the meantime, I’m also interested in buying a hotel in Mombasa; perhaps you could handle the detail and sale, charging me a commission.’
‘Indeed yes, sir. Leave it with me.’
Toy trains
Steffan Silo travelled down to Mombasa with two bodyguards aboard a delightful old steam train, and found an office that said, “Mombasa Steam Company”. He entered, asking for the owner.
The owner, a British aristocrat, came out a few minutes, rudely looking Steffan over. ‘How can I be of service?’ he begrudgingly got out.
‘I’m Steffan Silo, adopted step-brother of Jimmy Silo – we grew up in the same missionary. He’s ... very rich, and I’m an engineer - trains and track. My brother has business interests in many places, including the Congo -’
‘The Congo?’ the man puzzled. ‘What … interests in the Congo? Does he collect flies?’
Steffan forced a polite smile. ‘He was raised there.’
‘Raised there?’
‘Yes, and as such knows where the diamond mines are.’ Steffan handed over a large diamond.
‘By god, that’s … that’s priceless.’
‘That, sir, is yours to keep, a gift from my brother.’
‘A … a gift. This?’
‘A … down payment towards future business deals. We would like you to lay track for us, and with our guidance and assistance.’
‘Track … to where?’
Steffan produced a map that he had brought. On it he drew the existing railroads around the region, adding in the planned first stage of a new stretch.
‘That’s difficult country, as well as a great deal of track,’ the business owner cautioned. ‘Does your brother have deep pockets?’
‘Very deep pockets. And we have a gold mine.’
‘Dear god. And you say he’s called Jimmy Silo?’
‘Yes, he now owns the Empire Hotel in Nairobi, you can find him there. So, just as fast as you can, we’d like you to apply for permissions and licences, and to start laying track; for each section of a mile completed we’ll pay you an agreed rate. Oh, send your estimates to the hotel when you can, but you can consider this a formal engagement of your services. Also, are you interested in having my brother as a financial partner in this business, a limited company with shares?’
‘It sounds like he would be a very worthwhile partner.’
‘Have that diamond valued, and if it’s enough issue us fifty percent of the stock. We’ll then make a director’s loan in to the business.’
Steffan left a stunned aristocrat holding a large diamond.
A few days later the man was at the hotel and asking for Jimmy, let in and offered a table by Rudd, cool lemonade brought out. The man came with his Nairobi solicitor and his existing partners in the business.
‘So, how much was that diamond worth?’ Jimmy asked straight out.
‘Enough to buy my business three times over,’ the man admitted.
‘Then you won’t mind issuing me with fifty percent.’
‘We have the certificates with us. And, as honourable men, we’ll sell the diamond in Europe and then put the money into the new venture.’
‘As you see fit, but take a little something out for yourselves.’ Jimmy handed over small diamonds to each of the men. ‘For wives and girlfriends.’
‘Most generous, Mister Silo.’
‘Now, let’s talk about roads. As the train track progresses through various places we’ll need good road access to place the track, but I’m also thinking that a good new road would help in the future to move things by truck. I’d like you to arrange for roads to follow the track, tarmac roads, good quality so that I can run trucks up and down.’
‘If we expanded the business, we could handle the roads as well, we have the gangs … and it’s similar work.’
‘Fine, but involve my brother every step of the way; he’s excellent at these sorts of things. And, you can build the orphanage as well if you like.’
‘Orphanage?’
‘I’ll be raising an orphanage near Mombasa, a rather large one, so you can get cracking on that if you like. I have a line of credit with the banks around here, so you can get bills paid easily enough. If you deal with my manager, Rudd here, you can make a start when ready – he has the designs. The orphanage will be run by a lady doctor from Holland, name of Anna – bit of a missionary.’
‘We could meet you there in a day or two,’ they keenly offered; Jimmy was giving them enough work to keep them occupied the rest of their lives.
With the guests gone, Jimmy said to Rudd, ‘Find another hotel, one with a large ballroom, and offer to buy it. We need our own nightclub to meet the powerful local white folk.’
Rudd nodded, heading out.
Jimmy found Anna and Cosy in the warm conservatory, joining them. ‘Builders are sorted for the orphanage, they’ll meet you down there in a day or two. So … pack your stuff, get a hotel room in Mombasa, and … build a ruddy great orphanage. First, a big fence, then hire some guards. Then a house for you two, large and secure – and comfortable of course. Then builder’s shacks, barrack rooms for workers, and … well, make a start on the layout.’
‘I’ve found a few teachers already,’ Anna keenly reported.
‘To start with, try and use the scientists that came back with us. There are a few educated black teachers around the place, so … hopefully not too many questions. And they all grew up in Ebede – or in an orphanage, so that helps. I want a block built for just them – a very nice block – complete with workshops and a garden.’
‘As they had in China, the original group,’ Cosy noted.
Jimmy nodded. ‘For now, just keep them safe – and away from prying eyes. But let them start building things in the workshops as well as teaching. And for now, Doc Graham is the orphanage doctor. Oh, take two of Ngomo’s men, and be careful – this is 1920!’
With Yuri and Po wandering in, Jimmy excused himself and joined them. ‘Are you ready?’
‘We’ve read the newspapers back to front,’ Yuri complained.
‘We know what we do,’ Po insisted.
‘When you’re ready ... take two of the British guards and get the train down to Mombasa, steam ship to Singapore and then Hong Kong. Hide the diamonds well, I’ll send more on.’
‘We go tomorrow,’ Po insisted. ‘I want see old Hong Kong.’
‘Have a good trip, and stay safe. And remember, a slow and steady build up.’
A week later Jimmy bought another large hotel, but this time he didn’t kick out the resident guests. The hotel received a lick of paint, a few new curtains, and the dancehall received a modern touch. Side rooms were created, small wine bars set up, a balcony built. The club was advertised in the local paper - which was read by the local white folk - and would be open on a Friday and Saturday night. Its rival, the only other decent spot to hang out in, suddenly burnt down. What a mystery.
The club opened the following Friday, Rudd playing host and manager, a few of the British soldiers acting as bouncers – if need be. The numbers were good, the atmosphere good, many British officers turning up in uniform. Sykes and Jack worked the room, meeting many people, and spreading the word about the roads and rail links into the hinterland.
At one point, the British Governor put in an appearance, now keen to meet Jimmy - having heard the rumours. ‘Mister Silo.’ They shook.
‘Please, let me get you a drink,’ Jimmy told the rotund and elderly Governor, a retired General. They sat. ‘Glad that you’re here actually, I wanted your help.’
‘Oh yes?’
‘I operate mines - as you may have heard - but I fancy having a go at oil.’
‘No oil around these parts,’ the Governor said dismissively, wiping his brow with a handkerchief.
‘So people think, but I know of a spot where it seeps out the ground, so there must be oil underneath.’
‘Well, yes, I suppose. In Kenya?’
‘No, in Tanzania and in the Congo.’
‘Well, not much I can do to help you there.’
‘Could you get me an audience with the right people in Tanzania?’
‘I could write a letter of introduction, send you down to my colleagues in Dar es Salaam.’
‘That would be start,’ Jimmy acknowledged. He handed over a modest diamond, but still worth a few year’s pay for the Governor. ‘For the woman in your life.’
‘I hope that this does not come with strings attached,’ the Governor warned.
‘If it worries your conscience, throw it away.’
‘I understand you’re now on the board of the Mombasa Steam Company.’ The Governor pocketed the diamond.
‘Yes.’
‘What are your intentions there?’
‘I aim to pay for new roads, and for a new railway track to cross Africa near the Equator, starting with the track into the Congo jungle.’
‘You’ll lose half your workers to Malaria in the first month,’ the man scoffed.
‘Then I’ll hire more,’ Jimmy said with a false smile. ‘And I’ll keep hiring them. I aim to open up that region. And, as Governor of Kenya, you could be of great service to me … and to the British Empire.’
‘Indeed?’
‘Where I lay track and roads, British businessmen will follow, and our soldiers can make use the track.’
‘Our … soldiers? They say you were raised in the jungle.’
‘I was, but I was found with British clothing, so I guess that my parents were British.’
‘Have you tried to identify them?’
‘No, I have no interest. But I shall visit England soon.’
‘You’ve not been?’ the Governor struggled with.
‘I’ve been to China, Russia, but not England yet. Although I have read many books, and studied the maps.’
‘And they say you speak Nilote and Bantu.’
‘I speak fifteen dialects.’
‘Fifteen?’
‘As well as fluent Russian and Chinese.’
‘Crikey. And these stories of fights to the death?’
‘Oh, they’re true enough.’
‘Well, I wouldn’t advertise stuff like that if I was you.’
‘One should never hide one’s darker side, Governor; it always slips out. I’m a dangerous man … when provoked.’
‘And yet you’re set to build your own orphanage, something of a contradiction in character.’
‘Not at all, Governor. I love the local people, and wish to help them with a good education and a Christian upbringing, firm discipline and guidance – as I benefited from.’
The Governor cocked an eyebrow.
An hour later, one particular young officer got himself a bit drunk. As Jimmy walked past, the officer said, ‘Hey, you ya big ox.’ Jimmy turned. ‘They say you were raised by the wogs.’
The man’s companions sniggered.
‘That’s correct,’ Jimmy confirmed. ‘Did you … have something to say?’
‘Yes: get back to the jungle, wog.’
Jimmy stepped closer. ‘Perhaps you would like to back up your words.’
‘I’d give you a good thrashing, my man.’
‘I’d like to see that.’
‘I boxed for my college, you big dumb ox.’
‘So, you should be able to knock me down then,’ Jimmy suggested, taking off his jacket. Those in earshot moved back, Rudd waving to the band to stop playing. The young officer put down his drink and unbuttoned his tunic. Jimmy pulled off his bow tie and unbuttoned his shirt, the Governor now keenly observing.
With Jimmy’s shirt off, the young officers seemed less sure of themselves, the loudmouth swallowing. Still, he put up his fists and stepped closer.
‘Take the first punch, your best shot,’ Jimmy offered the officer.
The young officer hit Jimmy, hardly a reaction from the big guy.
‘Harder please, that was like a mosquito flying into me.’
The man struck again, everyone now focused on the scene.
‘Again, you punch like a girl.’
The young officer took a good swing at Jimmy, landing his best punch with little effect.
‘Keep going, and I might eventually feel it,’ Jimmy encouraged.
The officer hit Jimmy a dozen times, cutting Jimmy’s lip, but failing to move him.
‘If that’s the best you have, we’ll be here all night. I’ve been hit harder by ten year old girls.’
The officer tried one last time. Jimmy caught the man’s forearm, breaking it like a twig, the audience gasping – and horrified. The young officer yelped, falling to his knees.
