The Collected Short Stories - Jeffrey Archer [50]
Eduardo was somewhat puzzled to know what Rodrigues could possibly be doing in Lagos, since he felt certain that his rival had not come into contact with the Nigerian president. After all, Eduardo had never collected the rent on a small house in Rio that was occupied by the mistress of a very senior official in the government’s protocol department. And the man’s only task was to be certain that Rodrigues was never invited to any function attended by a visiting dignitary in Brazil. The continual absence of Rodrigues from these state occasions ensured the absentmindedness of Eduardo’s rent collector in Rio.
Eduardo would never have admitted to anyone that Rodrigues’s presence worried him, but he nevertheless resolved to find out immediately what had brought his old enemy to Nigeria. Once he reached his suite de Silveira instructed his private secretary to check what Manuel Rodrigues was up to. Eduardo was prepared to return to Brazil immediately if Rodrigues turned out to be involved in any way with the new capital project, while one young lady in Rio would suddenly find herself looking for alternative accommodation.
Within an hour, his private secretary returned with the information his chairman had requested. Rodrigues, he had discovered, was in Nigeria to tender for the contract to construct a new port in Lagos and was apparently not involved in any way with the new capital; in fact, he was still trying to arrange a meeting with the president.
“Which minister is in charge of the ports and when am I due to see him?” asked de Silveira.
The secretary delved into his appointments file. “The transportation minister,” the secretary said. “You have an appointment with him at nine o’clock on Thursday morning.” The Nigerian civil service had mapped out a four-day schedule of meetings for de Silveira that included every cabinet minister involved in the new city project. “It’s the last meeting before your final discussion with the president. You then fly on to Paris.”
“Excellent. Remind me of this conversation five minutes before I see the minister and again when I talk to the president.”
The secretary made a note in the file and left.
Eduardo sat alone in his suite, going over the reports on the new capital project submitted by his experts. Some of his team were already showing signs of nervousness. One particular anxiety that always came up with a large construction contract was the principal’s ability to pay, and pay on time. Failure to do so was the quickest route to bankruptcy, but since the discovery of oil in Nigeria there seemed to be no shortage of income—and certainly no shortage of people willing to spend that money on behalf of the government. These anxieties did not worry de Silveira, who always insisted on a substantial payment in advance; otherwise he wouldn’t move himself or his vast staff one centimeter out of Brazil. However, the massive scope of this particular contract made the circumstances somewhat unusual. Eduardo realized that it would be most damaging to his international reputation if he started the assignment and then was seen not to complete it. He reread the reports over a quiet dinner in his room and retired to bed early, having wasted an hour vainly trying to place a call to his wife.
De Silveira’s first appointment the next morning was with the governor of the Central Bank of Nigeria. Eduardo wore a newly pressed suit, fresh shirt, and highly polished shoes: For four days no one would see him in the same clothes. At 8:45 there was a quiet knock on the door of his suite, and the secretary opened it to find Colonel Usman standing to attention, waiting to escort Eduardo to the bank. As they were leaving the hotel Eduardo again saw Manuel Rodrigues, wearing the same pair of jeans, the same crumpled T-shirt, and probably chewing the same gum