Текст книги "Elephant Song"

Автор книги: Wilbur Smith

Соавторы: Wilbur Smith
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Текущая страница: 27 (всего у книги 36 страниц)

The captain hailed Daniel from above.  He left the chart-table and went out to the open deck, just as the gunboat rounded the headland and Fish Eagle Bay opened ahead of them.

Daniel saw at once why the name had been chosen.  The island at the mouth of the bay was heavily forested.  Nourished by the lake's sweet clear waters, the ficus and wild mahogany trees had grown into giants with branches spreading out high over the rocky shore and the surrounding lake waters.  Hundreds of mating pairs of fish eagles had built their nests in the high branches.  With russet and chestnut plumage and glistening white heads, these were the most spectacular of all the African .  raptors.  The great birds sat on every prominent perch, while still others sailed overhead on wide pinions, throwing back their heads in flight to utter the wild yelping chant that is so much a part of the African pageant.

The gunboat anchored and launched an inflatable Zodiac to take Daniel and Bonny to the island.  For an hour they filmed the eagle colony.

Captain Kajo threw dead fish off the rocky cliff and Bonny captured exciting sequences of rival eagles contending for the offerings and engaging in ritual aerial combat by hooking each other's talons and spinning and swirting in flight.

Daniel helped her lug the Sony camera up the smooth, massive trunk of a wild fig tree to film the eagle chicks in the nest.  The parent birds attacked them both on the exposed branch, coming in on screaming power-dives with talons extended and curved yellow beaks agape, pulling away at the Last possible moment so that the draught of the great wings buffeted them on their exposed perch.  By the time Bonny and Daniel reached the ground, their personal antagonism had been shelved and they were operating as a professional film crew again.

They returned to the Zodiac and ran out to the gunboat.  As they came aboard, the captain weighed anchor and pushed on slowly into the bay.

It was a spectacular site with volcanic rock cliffs climbing sheer out of the blue water and bright orange sand beaches in between the black rock.

Once again they climbed into the Zodiac and landed on one of the beaches near the mouth of the Ubomo River.  Leaving Captain Kajo and the two seamen on the beach with the boat, Daniel and Bonny climbed to the highest point on the cliffs and were rewarded with a panoramic view over the bay and the lake.

They could look down on the large fishing village at the mouth of the Ubomo River.  Twenty or so dhow-rigged boats were drawn up on the beach while as many more were dotted out upon the lake waters.  On gull-winged sails the fleet was bearing in towards the bay, the night's fishing over, coming in to land the catch.

Along the head of the beach the fishing-nets were spread out in the sunlight to dry and the smell of fish carried up to them, even on the top of the cliff.  Naked black children played upon the beach and splashed in the lake.  Men worked on the dhows or sat cross-legged with needle and palm to repair the festooned nets.  In the village the women moved gracefully in their long skirts as they pounded grain in the tall wooden mortars, swinging rhythmically to the rise and fall of the pestles in their hands, or squatted over the cooking-fires on which stood the black three-legged pots Daniel pointed out the various features which he wanted filmed and Bonny followed his instructions and turned the camera lens to record it all.  What will happen to the villagers?  she asked, still peering into the viewfinder of the Sony.

They're scheduled to start digging the foundations of the casino in three weeks.  . . I expect they'll move them to another site, Daniel told her.  In the new Africa people are moved about by their rulers like ches pieces He broke off and shaded his eyes, peering out along the road that led back along the lakeshore towards the capital.

Red dust blew in a slow sullen cloud out across the blue lake waters, carried on the mountain breeze from up-country.  Let me have a look through your telephoto lens, he asked Bonny, and she handed him the camera.  Swiftly Daniel zoomed the lens to full power and picked up the approaching column of vehicles.  Army trucks, he told her.  And transporters I'd say those were bulldozers on the transporters.  He handed her back the camera, and Bonny studied the approaching column.

Some kind of army exercise?  she guessed.  Are we allowed to film it?

Anywhere else in Africa I wouldn't take the chance of pointing a camera at anything military, but here we've got President Taffari's personal firman.  Shoot away!  Quickly Bonny set up the light tripod she used only for longrange telephoto shots and zoomed in on the approaching military convoy.

Meanwhile, Daniel moved to the edge of the cliff and looked down on the beach.  Captain Kajo and the sailors from the gunboat were stretched out on the sand.  Kajo was probably sleeping off the previous evening's debauch.  Where he lay he was out of sight of the village.

Daniel strolled back to watch Bonny at work.

The convoy was already approaching the outskirts of the village.  A mob of children and stray dogs ran out to greet it.

The children skipped along beside the trucks, laughing and waving, while the dogs yapped hysterically.  The vehicles drew up in the open ground in the centre of the village which was both soccer pitch and village square.

Soldiers in camouflage uniform, armed with AK 47 rifles, jumped down and formed up into their platoons on the soccer ground.

A Hita officer climbed on to the cab of the leading truck and began to harangue the villagers through a bull-horn.  The sound of his electronically distorted voice carried intermittently to the crest of the cliff on which Daniel was standing.  He lost the sense of some of the Swahili as the breeze rose and fell, but the gist of it was clear.

The officer was accusing the villagers of harbouring political dissidents, obstructing the economic and agricultural reforms of the new government, and engaging in counter-revolutionary activities.

While he was speaking, a squad of soldiers trotted down to the beach and rounded up the children and fishermen there.  They herded them back to the village square.

The villagers were becoming agitated.  The children hid amongst the skirts of the women and the men were protesting and gesticulating at the officer on the cab of the truck.  Now soldiers began moving through the village, ordering people out of the thatched huts.  One old man tried to resist being dragged from his home, and a soldier clubbed him with the butt of an AK 47.  He fell in a huddle on the dusty earth and they left him there and moved on, kicking open the doors of the huts and shouting at the occupants.  On the beach another group of soldiers was meeting the incoming fishing fleet and prodding the fishermen ashore at bayonet point.

Bonny never looked up from the viewfinder of her camera.  This is great stuff!  God, this is the real thing.  This is Emmy Award territory, I kid you nodDaniel did not reply.  Her gloating excitement should not have offended him as much as it did.  He was " a journalist himself.  He understood the need to find fresh and provocative material to stir the jaded emotions of a television audience reared on a diet of turmoil and violence, but what they were witnessing here was as obscene as scenes of SS troopers clearing out the ghettoes of Europe.

The soldiers were beginning to load the fisherfolk on to the waiting trucks, women were screaming and trying to find their own children in the throng.  Some villagers had managed to collect a pathetic bundle of possessions, but most of them were empty-handed.

The two yellow bulldozers rolled down off their low trailer beds with engines pulsing and blue diesel smoke blowing from the exhaust stacks.

One of them swung in a tight circle with a track locked, and lowered the massive frontal blade.  Gleaming in the afternoon sunlight the blade sliced into the wall of the nearest but and the thatched roof collapsed.

Beauty!  Bonny murmured.  I couldn't have staged it better.

That was an incredible shot!  The women were wailing and ululating, that peculiar chilling sound of African grief.  One of the men broke away and ran towards the cover of the nearest field of sorghum.  A soldier shouted a warning at him, but he put his head down and ran faster.  A short burst of automatic rifle-fire popped like a string of fire-crackers and the man collapsed and rolled in the dust and lay still.

A woman screamed and ran towards the fallen body carrying an infant strapped in a shawl on her back and an older child in her arms.  A soldier barred her path with a bayoneted rifle and turned her back towards the truck.  I got it!

Bonny exulted.  The whole thing.  The shooting and all.  It's in the can.

Shit, this is great!  The soldiers were drilled and ruthless.  It all went very quickly.  Within half an hour the entire populace of the village had been rounded up, except for the fishermen still out on the lake.  The first truck, fully loaded, pulled away, heading back the way it had come.

The huts were collapsing one after the other as the two bulldozers moved down the rows.  God, I hope I don't run out of film, Bonny muttered anxiously.  This is a once-in-a-lifetime chance.  Daniel had not spoken since the operation had begun.  He was part of Africa.  He had seen other villages wiped out.  He remembered the guerrilla camp in Mozambique.  Since then he had seen Renamo rebels work over a village, and he had witnessed forced removals by the minions of apartheid in South Africa, but he had never grown hardened to the suffering of the African people.  He was sick to his guts as he watched the rest of the little drama unfold.

The remaining fishing-boats ran in unsuspectingly to the beach, where the soldiers were waiting to drag the crews ashore.  The last truckload of villagers rolled away in a column of red dust, and as soon as it was out of sight, one of the yellow bulldozers waddled down on to the beach and swept the abandoned fishing-boats into a pile, like firewood kindling.

Four soldiers brought the body of the old man and the one who had tried to escape, carrying them by ankles and wrists, dead heads lolling backwards.  They tossed them on to the funeral pyre of shattered hulls and torn sails.  One of the soldiers hurled a lighted torch of thatch on to the top of the pile.  The flames took hold and burned so fiercely that the soldiers were driven backwards, holding up their hands to protect their faces.

The bulldozers crawled back and forth over the remains of the huts, flattening them under the steel tracks.  A whistle shrilled and the soldiers formed up quickly and re-embarked into the waiting troop-carriers.  The yellow bulldozers crawled back on to their transporters, and the entire column wound away.

After they had gone, the only sound was the hushed whisper of the evening breeze along the cliff face and the distant crackle of the flames.  Well, Daniel tried to keep his tone neutral, the site is clear for the new casino.  Taffari's investment in happiness for his people is secure.  . . his voice broke.  He could not go on.  The bastard!  he whispered.  The murderous bloody bastard.  He found that he was shaking with anger and outrage.  It required an immense effort of will to bring his emotions under control.  He strode to the edge of the cliff overlooking the beach.  The gunboat was still anchored out in the deeper water in the middle of the bay and the Zodiac was drawn up on the beach with one of the soldiers guarding it, but Captain Kajo and the other sailor were no longer asleep on the sand.  it was obvious that they had been awakened by the sound of gunfire and activity in the destroyed village.

Daniel looked around for Kajo and picked him out at last.

He was climbing the cliff face half a mile away, and it was clear from his manner that he was agitated.  He was searching for them, stopping every few minutes to shout through cupped hands and peer about him anxiously.

Daniel ducked back out of sight and snapped at Bonny.  Nobody must know that we shot that footage.  It's dynamite.  Gotcha!  she agreed.

Give me the tape.  I'll take care of it, in case they want to check what you've filmed.

Bonny ejected the tape from the camera and handed it over.

He wrapped it in a jersey and stuffed it into the bottom of his rucksack.  All right, let's get out of here before Kajo finds us.

He must never guess that we saw what we saw.  Bonny gathered up her equipment swiftly and followed Daniel as he cut inland away from the remains of the village and the lakeshore.  Within minutes they were into the tall grass and scrub of the savannah.

Daniel circled back through the elephant grass and scrub until he reached the lakeshore again near the mouth of the bay, opposite Fish Eagle Island.  They scrambled down the cliff to the beach and Daniel paused to let Bonny catch her breath.  I don't understand how they let a film crew loose in the area on the very day they were going to wipe out the village, she gasped.  Typical African screw-up, Daniel told her.

Somebody forgot to tell somebody else.  The last coup attempt they made in Zambia, one of the conspirators broke into the radio station and announced the revolution while all his co-conspirators were still in barracks eating breakfast.  He had the wrong day.

It was supposed to be the following Sunday.  AWA.  Are you ready to go on?

Bonny stood up.  AWAF she asked.  Africa Wins Again, Daniel smiled grimly.  Let's go!  Assuming a casual manner they set off side by side along the firm damp sand at the edge of the water.

They could see the beached Zodiac in the distance, but the demolished village was still hidden by the bulge of the cliff face.

They had not covered more than two hundred yards before Kajo hailed them from the cliff top.  They stopped and looked up at him, waving as though they had only just noticed him for the first time.  He's peeing in his pants, Bonny murmured.  He doesn't know if we witnessed the raid or not.

Kajo came pelting down the cliff path, slipping and sliding on the steep places.  He was out of breath when he reached the beach and confronted them.

Where have you been?  he demanded.  Out at the point, Daniel told him.

We filmed the casino site.  Now we are going down to film the hotel site at the river mouth, where the fishing village is-'No!  No!  Kajo grabbed Daniel's arm.  That is enough.  No more filming.  We must go back to the boat.  it is finished for today.  Daniel shrugged off his hand and argued with him for a while.  Then finally, with a show of reluctance, he allowed himself to be led towards the Zodiac and ferried aboard the gunboat.

As soon as he reached the bridge, Kajo held a whispered discussion with the ship's captain and they both looked to the head of the bay.

There were still streamers of smoke from the burning fishing boats drifting out over the water.  The ship's captain looked worried and gave orders to get under way in unnecessarily loud and agitated tones.

Before Daniel could prevent her, Bonny walked to the stern rail and aimed the Sony camera back towards the shore.  Captain Kajo scrambled down the bridge Ladder and ran down the deck shouting.  No!  Wait!  You must not film that!  Why not?  It's only a bush fire, isn't it?  No!

Yes It's a bush fire, but it's classified material.  A top secret bush fire?  Bonny teased him, but she obediently lowered the camera.

As soon as they were alone Daniel scolded her.  Don't get too damned clever.  That little joke could have backfired on us.  On the contrary, I convinced Kajo that we are innocent, she argued.  When are you going to let me have my tape back?  I'll keep it, he answered.  Kajo's still suspicious.  My bet is that when we reach Kahali, he'll check your equipment.

It was after dark when the gunboat tied up at its berth.

During the transfer of Bonny's video equipment from the vessel to the army Landrover on the wharf, the aluminium.  case that contained her tapes disappeared.  Although she screamed at Kajo, and shook her finger in his face and threatened to report his inefficiency to President Taffari, Kajo just kept on smiling blandly.  Don't worry, Miss Mahon.

It will turn up.  I give you my personal guarantee.  Kajo arrived at the guest house the following morning, all smiles and apologies, carrying the missing case.  All present and correct, Miss Mahon.  One of those stupid Uhali porters mislaid it.  Please accept my heartfelt apologies. You can be damned certain they scanned every tape in the box, Daniel assured her when Kajo had gone.  He tapped the buttoned pocket of his bush jacket.

I'm going to get this tape of the raid down to Mike at the British embassy.  It's the only safe place for it.  Are you coming?  I have an engagement.  She looked defiant.

If you're going to visit your new boy friend, just be careful.

That's my advice to you.  You've seen his style.  Ephrem is an honorable guy!

knew anything about that raid.  Believe what you want, but don't tell anybody about this tape.  Not even Tug Harrison.

Bonny froze and stared at him.  She had gone very pale.

What are you talking about?  she demanded.  Come on, Bonny, give me some credit.  I checked that phone call you made from the Norfolk Hotel in Nairobi.  Of course you're reporting to Tug Harrison.  How much is he paying you to spy on me?  You're crazy.  She tried to brazen her way out of it.

Yes, I probably am.  I fell for you, didn't I?  But you'll be crazy if you tell Tug about this tape.  He left her staring after him and he drove down the hill towards the British embassy.  The grounds of the embassy were walled and the gates were guarded by soldiers of President Taffari's personal bodyguard in camouflage uniforms and maroon berets.

Michael Hargreave came out of his office to greet Daniel.  Morning, Sir Mickey.

Danny boy!  I spoke to Wendy last night.  She sends you her love.

"When is she arriving?  Not for another few weeks, more's the pity Her mother is unwell, so Wendy has to go home first instead of coming directly from Lusaka.  .

Still chatting, he led Daniel into his office" but as soon as he closed the door his manner changed.  News for you, Danny.  The Chinaman has arrived.  Landed this morning in BOSS's executive jet.  My information is he came from Taiwan via Nairobi.  Moved into BOSS headquarters in Lake House immediately to take over as head of the syndicate, and Taffari is throwing one of his bashes for him on Friday evening.  Expect you'll get an invitation from Government House.  That should be interesting.  Daniel smiled grimly.  I'm looking forward to seeing that gentleman again.  That may be sooner than you think.

Michael Hargreave glanced at his wristwatch.  Have to leave you, dear boy.  Making a luncheon speech to the assembled Rotarians of Ubomo, would you believe?

Those files I promised you are all with my secretary.  She'll give you a room to work in.  Have a peep at them, then give them back to her.  No notes nor photostats, please, Danny.  Eyes only.

Thanks, Mike; you're a hero.  But one other favour, please?  Fire away.

Anything to please.  Hargreave family motto, don't you know?  Will you keep an envelope in your personal safe for me, Mike?  Michael locked the sealed envelope containing the Fish Eagle Bay tape into his strong room, then shook hands and excused himself.

Daniel watched him from the verandah as he was driven away by his uniformed chauffeur in the ambassadorial car.

Despite the Union Jack pennant on the bonnet, it was a ten-year-old Rover in need of a paint job.  The ambassador to Ubomo did not rate a RollsRoyce.

Daniel went back to the files that Michael's secretary had laid out for him in a back room.  When he left the embassy three hours later, his original impression of Ephrem Taffari had been reinforced a hundredfold.

He's a tough and wily bird, Daniel muttered as he started the Landrover.

He and Bonny Mahon should have fun together.  The motorcycle escort, sirens wailing, was forced to moderate its speed by the condition of the road through the new area of squatters slums that had grown up around the capital.

The tarmac was pitted with sharp-edged craters, while chickens and pigs scattered, cackling and grunting, ahead of the outriders.

The presidential car, another recent gift from the same middle eastern oil potentate, was a black Mercedes.  It was a mark of his high regard that President Taffari had sent it down to Lake House on the waterfront to fetch his guest to the audience.

Ning Cheng Gong sat behind the chauffeur and studied these first glimpses of Ubomo with interest.

After what he had observed in Asia and the other parts of Africa in which he had served, the poverty and degradation of the slums through which they drove neither repelled nor shocked him.  From his father he had learned to look upon swarming humanity as either a source of cheap labour, or a market for the goods and services he had to sell.  Without human beings there is no profit, his father had pointed out on numerous occasions.  The more people the better.  Always when human lives are cheap, there are great fortunes to be made.  We, the Lucky Dragon, must resist any effort to limit population growth in the Third World.

People are our basic stock-in-trade.  Cheng smiled at his father's wisdom, derived from a study of history.  His father's view was that only when human populations had been checked and limited by extraneous factors had the common man regained dignity and a measure of control over his own destiny.  The terrible depredations of the great plagues of medieval times had broken the slavery of the feudal system of Europe. They had reduced human populations to the point where men had scarcity value and could bargain for their labour once again.

The great wars of this century had smashed the class system of inherited privilege and fortune, and ushered in this aberrant age of human rights, in which the common men of inferior races were taught that they were the equal of their betters.  In Cheng's view, and that of his father, common men had no such divine rights, any more than the antelope in the wild deserved special protection from the lion.

When the mass of humanity reached such proportions that human life was cheap, that was the age of opportunity for the great predators to emerge.  Predators like Lucky Dragon.  In Africa that time was fast approaching as populations swarmed like hiving bees.

He thought about the little Cambodian boat girl, whose corpse now lay in the dark depths of the China Sea.  There were millions and tens of millions more like her, in India and China and Africa and South America, for men like him.

Cheng had recognized in the burgeoning populations of Africa a unique opportunity.

That was the main reason that Lucky Dragon was drawn so irresistibly to this continent.  That was why he was going now to a meeting with the president of this country which would soon be made to render up its wealth to him.  He would suck the juice from it, throw away the empty skin, and pluck another from the tree.  He smiled at the metaphor and raised his eyes to the green hill above the town on which Government House stood.

President Ephrem Taffari had an honour guard in maroon uniforms and white sun-helmets drawn up to welcome him and a red carpet laid across the green lawn.  He came down the to meet Ning Cheng Gong personally and to shake his hand.  He led him up on to the wide verandah and seated him in one of the carved armchairs under the revolving fan that hung from the ceiling.

An Uhali servant in ankle-length white robes, scarlet sash and to sselled fez offered him a silver tray of frosted glasses.

Cheng refused the champagne and chose a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice.

Ephrem Taffari took the armchair opposite him and crossed one long leg clad in crisp white cotton trousers over the other.

He smiled at Cheng with all his charm.  I wanted our first meeting to be informal and relaxed he explained, and made a deprecatory gesture towards his own open-neck sports shirt and sandals.  So you will excuse my casual attire and the fact that I have none of my ministers with me.

'Of course, Your Excellency.  Cheng sipped the orange juice.  I am also delighted by this opportunity to get to know you and to be able to speak freely without the inhibition of having other people present.

Sir Peter Harrison speaks very highly of you, Mr.  Ning.  He is a man whose opinion I value.  I am sure that our relationship will be mutually rewarding.  For another ten minutes they traded compliments and ploicstations of friendship and goodwill.  Both of them were at ease with this flowery circumlocution; it was part of their separate cultures and they understood instinctively the moves and countermoves as they circled and closed in on the real business of their meeting.

Finally Cheng took a sealed envelope from the inside pocket of his white silk tropical suit.  It was a piece of expensive stationery, glossy and cream-coloured with a dragon motif embossed on the back flap.  My father and I want you to believe, Mr.  President, that our commitment to your country is unswerving.  We would like you to accept this as an earnest token of our friendship and concern.

Cheng made his offering seem like a free and unsolicited gift, whereas both of them were aware that it had been the subject of intense and protracted bargaining.  There had been other bidders in the market, not least of them the Arab oil sheikh who had provided the gunboat and the presidential Mercedes.

It had taken all Sir Peter Harrison's influence to secure the deal for the BOSS and Lucky Dragon syndicate.

The envelope contained the second instalment due to Ephrem Taffari in his personal capacity.  The first instalment had been paid over ten months previously, on signature of the original agreement.

President Taffari picked up the envelope -and turned it over to examine the seal His fingers were long and elegantly shaped, and very dark against the stiff creamy paper.

He split the corner of the envelope with his thumbnail and unfolded the two documents it contained.  One was a deposit receipt to a numbered bank account in Switzerland.  The amount of the deposit was ten million US dollars.  The other was a share transfer document, notarised in Luxembourg.  A total of thirty percent of the syndicate's share equity was now registered in the name of Ephrem Taffari.  The syndicate's formally registered -name was The Ubomo Development Corporation.

The president returned the documents to the open envelope -and slipped it into the pocket of his flowered sports shirt.  Progress has not been as rapid as I had hoped, he said, his tone still courteous but underlaid with steel.  I hope that will change with your arrival, Mr.

Ning.  I am aware of the delays.  As you know, my field-manager has been in Kahali for the last week or so.  He has given me a full report of the situation.  I believe that some of the blame must attach to the previous management, put in place by BOSS.

There has been some reluctance to exploit all the available assets.

Cheng made a delicately pejorative gesture.  Mr.  Purvis of BOSS, who is now safely on his way back to London, was a sensitive man.  You know how squeamish these Englishmen can be.  My field-manager informs me that we are short of labour.  I assure you, Mr.  Ning, that you will have all the labour you require.  Taffari's smile became strained at the thinly veiled complaint.  Thirty thousand, Cheng said softly.  That was the original estimate approved by you, Your Excellency.  So far we have been given fewer than ten thousand.  You will have the rest before the beginning of next month.

Taffari was no longer smiling.  I have given orders to the army.

All political detainees and dissidents are to be rounded up and sent to the labour camps in the forest.  These will be members of the Uhah tribe?

Cheng asked.  Of course, Taffari snapped.  You didn't think for a moment that I would send you Hita, did you?  Cheng smiled at the absurdity of that notion.  My fieldmanager tells me that the Uhali are good workers, hardy and intelligent and compliant.  We will need most of them in the forest to begin with.  it seems that we are experiencing problems there caused by the terrain and the climate.  The roads are bad and machinery is bogging down, We will be forced to use More men.

Yes, I warned the BOSS people of that, Taffari agreed.  They were reluctant to use what they considered to be.  . . He hesitated.  That man Purvis referred to our convict labour as slave labour.  He looked mildly amused by such pedantic definitions.  These Westerners, Clieng sympathized, The English are bad enough, but the Americans are even-worse.  They do not understand Africa or the orient.  Their minds stop at Suez.  .

he broke off.  I assure you, Mr.  President, that an easterner is now in control of the syndicate's operation.  You will find that I do not suffer from these Western scruples.  It is a relief to be able to work with somebody who understands the necessities of life, Taffari agreed.

Which brings me to the hotel and casino project at Fish Eagle Bay.  I understand from my field-manager that nothing has been done there, apart from the original survey of the area.

He tells me that there is still a fishing village on the hotel site.

Not any longer, Taffari smiled.  The area was cleared two days ago, soon after Purvis left for London.  The village was a hotbed of counter-revolutionary activity.  My soldiers rounded up all the dissidents.  Two hundred able-bodied prisoners are already on their way to the concession area in the forest to join Your labour force.  The hotel site is ready for construction to begin.  Your Excellency, I can see that you and I are going to work well together.  May I show you the modifications that I have made to the schedule of works drawn up by Purvis?  He opened his briefcase and unfolded a large computer spreadsheet that covered the entire table between them.