Chapter 8
Nawa and Phil joined the Great East road from Benekali road in Northmead. They drove at a high speed until they reached the Manda Hill traffic lights. Some boys came to the car windows trying to sell airtime recharge vouchers to them. Nawa waved them away dismissively. The traffic lights turned green and they proceeded straight past Manda Hill shopping mall on their left. They increased their speed and in a minute they bypassed the Arcades shopping Mall on their right. They found a roundabout and they turned left into Katima-Mulilo road.
"What do you think sir?" Nawa asked.
"Concerning?"
"Are the ladies saying the truth? I mean they are painting only a good picture about her."
"We have to be cautious. But still they may have no reason to lie."
"We will see," replied Nawa. They turned right and joined Zambezi road. Public passenger minibuses kept disturbingly changing lanes ahead of them as they proceeded. Nawa stopped as another minibus joined the road into his lane suddenly. He jumped out of the car and rushed to the window of the minibus.
“Can I see your driving license?” he yelled at the driver. The driver hesitated. He had just opened his mouth to answer back when he noticed Nawa’s khaki police trousers. He thrust his hand into his breast pocket and showed Nawa his license. Nawa looked at the license for a second before unleashing a mighty slap into the face of the astonished driver. The minibus passengers grasped in horror.
“Next time use your head when driving,” he yelled at the driver.
He walked back to their car which he had stopped in the middle of the road thereby causing a minor traffic jam. Several motorists were already hooting impatiently. He got back into the car and continued driving, leaving the perplexed driver staring at him all the way.
“We were discussing the women sir,” said Nawa, making no reference to the slapping incidence.
"Remember when we checked her wardrobe? All her clothes were decent. Not a single mini or hipster or hot pant- just suits, shoes and normal underwear," observed Phil.
"What are you getting at sir?"
"I am thinking that the dress she was found in was out of character."
"Out of character?"
"It means maybe secretly she had clothes that others were not aware of. And if that was the case then what else didn't the others know about her?"
They turned right into a building with a huge poster "Women Empowerment Zambia" by the gate. Even before driving inside the premises, they could feel the weight of grief.
They parked in between a Benz car and an Isuzu van. They disembarked and walked over to the reception. They entered the building. A young slim girl in glasses seated behind the reception desk looked at them curiously. Phil smiled and then said, "We are here to see Father Pacciotti."
"Concerning what sir?" she inquired in a calm voice.
"Just tell him that we want to see him," answered Nawa forcefully.
She looked at Nawa with apprehension and then picked her desk phone and dialed a number.
"Hello, two gentlemen to see Father Pacciotti with me at the reception..." she said before removing the phone from her ear.
Addressing Phil she said, "What's your name sir?"
"Police," Nawa snapped at her.
The girl hesitated, but when Phil did not say anything else she put the phone back to her ear and said, "They say that they are police officers. Yes...two...OK. Bye."
She put the phone on its cradle and then said, "Sir, follow the corridor, go straight. Last office on your left."
"Thank you."
Phil and Nawa followed her directions until they reached the last office on their left. Phil knocked softly. They were invited in.
Father Pacciotti rose from his desk as they walked in. He offered his hand for a hand shake.
"You are welcome here officers. I understand that we couldn't talk at the funeral house. Please take seats."
"Thank you," Phil and Nawa replied at the same time as they sat down opposite Father Pacciotti.
"It’s a sad day for our organization. But what the lord gives, he takes away as well. Job said naked I was born and naked I will return, who are we to question what happens in our lives?"
"Indeed," replied Phil.
"Please let's start the discussion. I know you are very busy people," said Pacciotti.
"Thank you. Like we mentioned at the funeral house, we are hoping that you can shed light on Molly's personality and her life generally. That will help us close our investigations into her death quickly."
"She was a good girl. And hard working too. As far as I am concerned she didn't have worries related to work," he replied. "I may be wrong though. I am only human."
"How did you meet Molly?"
Pacciotti scratched his blonde hair a little and then said, "Ah how did we meet? Let's see...let's see...alright I got it now. We were looking for a new director here. She came in for interviews and impressed us. So we picked her."
"Who was "we""?
"I meant the board."
"Alright. And when was this?"
"Three years ago."
"What does this organization do? And what was Molly's role?"
Pacciotti rubbed his pale face and then bit his lower lip. He said, "This NGO was set on the objective- and I wish to believe that to still be the case- of humanitarian intervention in the lives of its beneficiaries. By beneficiaries, I am referring to vulnerable women and girls. Drug dealers, prostitutes and so on. To rescue them from their unholy life and introduce them to light through the word of light and empowerment."
"How do you empower the women?"
"We train them in various skills and give them grants."
Phil nodded. He then paused and asked slowly, "Please excuse my asking but what are the sources of your income as an organization?"
"Well no need to apologize officer. This a police investigation, I shall tell you. Otherwise according to our organizational charter, I may not reveal unless compelled by the court."
"You may tell us then."
"We do not have one source of income. We have a number. One source comes from subscriptions by members. The other is through donors. Donors support different projects. Another source is from the sale of items that our girls produce here during their training. So it’s an open field really."
"How much are we talking about roughly?"
"As you are probably aware officers, I am the chairman, not the executive director. I can talk on policy and strategy, but on the operational side, I shall require assistance from one of the managers," replied Pacciotti before picking his desk phone. He dialed without waiting for a response from Phil.
"Please come to my office immediately," he said and the replaced the phone on its cradle. As they waited Phil looked around the office. It was certainly better furnished than his own office at central police. This office was painted cream and the windows were covered by matching window blinds. The office had overhead air conditioning units as well as a beautiful red sofa made of leather. On his desk was a computer.
There was a knock on the door. Pacciotti said come in, and a short dark woman in a white suit walked in. She seemed almost uncomfortable in that suit, given her huge bosom and behind. She had her eyebrows and lips painted pink. She felt her round cheeks with her right palm as she stood quietly.
"Hello Thandi, these are officers from the Zambia Police. As you are aware, there has to be an investigation into any death. They want to find out about our finances."
Thandi looked at Phil and Nawa and then said, "Good day sirs."
"Good day," both replied.
"Alright, I am Thandi and am the Finance and Admin manager, reporting to the Executive Director. What exactly are you interested in knowing?"
"Your income and expenditures," replied Phil.
"How detailed?"
"Top page summary will do for now."
"Let me fetch my folder," said Thandi. She left the office and returned two minutes later with two black folders in her hands.
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She then opened the first folder and said, "Alright, we currently are running different projects worth USD 6,500,000 broken down into 1,000,000 supporting tailoring and designing training, 500,000 supporting poultry and another 1,000,000 for nutrition and health. As from last year a further 860,000 was received to support research and outreach work. 1,705,000 goes to support crop farming with a further 90,000 going into carpentry and woodwork. The rest is utilized for grant allocation. You can look through our books for finer details also."
"Not necessary. The budget was for 650,000?"
"No officer. I said six point five million."
"Where did it come from?"
Thandi opened the second folder. In it, she followed a line with her forefinger.
"We receive an annual grant of 2,500,000 from PCI and a further 1,775,000 from the government of Zambia under the ministry of social welfare. The rest we raised through sales of crops, poultry and furniture," she replied.
Phil turned to Pacciotti and said, "Who are the signatories to the NGO accounts?"
"Molly, Thandi and I are approved signatories. But for any transaction to be valid there must be at least two of us signing."
"I see. What about the beneficiaries?"
"What about them?"
"Where do they come from?"
"Well, from the community of course."
"How do you determine who qualifies for your assistance?"
Pacciotti turned to Thandi and said, "Well that is operational. Thandi can come in again here."
Thandi cleared her throat and then said, "We have outreach officers who interact directly with the community. They directly go on the streets to try and convert sex workers. They are also assigned to homes where known drug addicts stay."
"In my line of vocation as a priest," added Pacciotti, "there are a few people who I come across and they genuinely need help. I have recommended a few to Molly before."
Turning to Thandi, Phil asked, ''What sort of boss was Molly?"
"She was tough. To me at least."
"Friendly?"
"Not really."
"Hostile?"
"Not hostile either. Just a little cold."
"Did she create enemies among coworkers or beneficiaries?"
"I don't think so. After all she was our boss."
Phil opened his notebook. He checked something and then asked:
"What can you tell us about Jane?"
"What about Jane?"
"Can we talk to her and her activities?" Phil pushed unexpectedly. Pacciotti shrugged in his swing chair and then asked, "Thandi, who is Jane?"
Thandi said, "One of our outreach workers. She was one of the team leaders."
Pacciotti nodded his head in understanding.
Turning to Phil, she said, "Jane left our NGO over a month ago."
"Where can we find her?"
"I have no idea officer. She was reporting to the Projects Manager. I just knew her from a distance really."
Pacciotti came in and said, "I think we can check for her address in the register."
Thandi turned and then opened the door. She then shouted into the corridor, "Esther!"
A few seconds later the girl from the reception joined them.
"Please bring the register," Thandi instructed her.
"It is in madam Molly's office."
"Alright thanks."
The receptionist left.
Pacciotti then looked at Phil and said, "Do you have any further questions for me?"
"No sir. I think we are done with you."
"In that case," said Pacciotti. "You must join Thandi who is going to get the register in Molly's office. Feel free to check through everything end to end. You never know what can be useful in these circumstances in which we are: all in the dark and terribly confused."
Phil and Nawa stood up and each in turn shook Pacciotti's hand warmly. They then followed Thandi out of the office into the corridor. Phil caught Nawa staring longingly at Thandi's bouncing behind as she walked in front of them. She turned right and they both followed. They reached the last office and Thandi opened it. They walked inside.
Thandi sat on Molly's desk and began to type furiously on the computer keyboard. Phil took the opportunity to look around the office. It was similar to Pacciotti's, except in addition it had a large bear doll seated in the corner. Next to it were rose flowers wrapped in pink foil and ribbon. The room had a characteristic feminine fragrance.
"This computer appears to have crashed," said Thandi as she tried one more time. Finally she threw her arms in the air. She then picked the desk phone and dialed a number.
"Hello sir, the computer has crashed...yes sir...yes."
She put down the phone and then shook her head in disappointment. They sat in silence for one minute until Pacciotti walked in. He was puffing and his face had turned red.
"Crashed?" he asked in disbelief.
"Yes sir, I have tried it twice. It can turn on but cannot load the operating system."
"Then call the IT guy immediately. Give these officers all the information that they need without fail."
Turning to Phil, Pacciotti said, "Officer, I apologize for this most embarrassing situation. Our IT will be here shortly to resolve the problem."
"That's alright," said Phil. "We must leave now. But should we find any need we shall come back later. By then the computer should be OK."
"What about the address for Janet? Have you found it?" Pacciotti asked with concern.
"Its Jane sir," corrected Thandi.
"Sorry, what about the address for Jane?" asked Pacciotti again.
Phil shrugged and then said, ''We don't even know that she can tell us anything useful. For now let her be. Like I said, if for some reason we feel that we must talk to her, we shall come back for the address."
"Please go well. And may the lord guide you in your investigation," said Pacciotti as they shook hands again. The cops also shook Thandi's hand and then they let themselves out of the office. They reached the reception. The girl was reading a novel.
"Sweetheart," said Phil to the astonished girl. "Where does Jane live?"
"In Mtendere, next to the Shipwe Shipwe tavern. Second road, the house is a shrub fence. It’s a yellow house."
"You are a darling."