Dogstar Rising by Parker Bilal Read Free Book Online

back to typing a letter. ‘They want to know what happened to them.’
    ‘How should I know?’ Wael held his hands up in the air.
    ‘Just speak to them, will you?’
    ‘Is it always like this?’ Makana asked as Meera went by on her way to the filing cabinet next to him. She lifted her shoulders. It was more like a gesture of resignation than an answer. She pointed out a table in the corner.
    ‘That’s your desk.’
    No sooner had he sat down than a thickening cloud of cloying scent settled over him and he looked up to see Arwa approaching with an armful of files.
    ‘Here we were expecting you to be setting an example for us, and you sit there waiting for work to be brought to you?’ She dumped the heap of folders in front of him and flipped the first one open to reveal a sheet of accounts. ‘What matters is the final figure at the bottom. Understand? The boss never looks any further. As long as the final tally shows a profit you don’t have to worry.’
    Makana raised his eyebrows. ‘Even if it doesn’t match the receipts?’
    The crown of palms shook. ‘Don’t even think about trying to straighten it out. The last person who tried is buried under the pyramids. All that matters,’ she went on, enunciating every word slowly, as if addressing an idiot, ‘is that the two figures match. That is all you have to do. A small child could manage it.’ She swivelled on her heels and was about to march away when a thought occurred. ‘I know nothing about improving efficiency, or management, but if the boss sees you lazing around you’ll be fired before you even have time to settle in.’ Arwa clucked at her own humour. ‘Now that might improve our situation.’ She marched off before he had time to respond.
    ‘I got the same lecture when I first started here,’ Meera said. ‘The mess goes back as far as you can imagine and many of the figures are inaccurate or illegible.’
    Intrigued, Makana went through the heap of files trying to get an idea of how this firm managed to operate. The problem was that nothing really matched. Even the names of places seemed to vary. Makana didn’t need to be a trained accountant to understand that the Blue Ibis administrative system was in such disarray it was hard to understand how a company could manage to function in such a state of disorder. Money was seeping out of the company like a leaky boat. Nobody really had any idea how much came in or went out. There was a trail of unfamiliar names too, the mention of which elicited only blank looks, or remarks like ‘Oh, she doesn’t work here any more’ or ‘He left years ago!’ The high turnover of employees might also have explained the variety of filing methods. Each new person appeared to have brought their own system with them which would then be abandoned when it came time for them to leave. Some were alphabetical, others numerical, some by year, others by month, one was even based on country of origin. And someone had come up with an innovative method of classifying tourists according to their dietary requests. Makana’s head was spinning when he looked up to find Yousef standing in front of him wearing a thin, cunning smile.
    ‘So, how are you getting on?’
    ‘Well, you know. It takes time to get the measure of things.’
    ‘Yeah, I’ll bet it does.’ Perching himself on the corner of Makana’s desk, Yousef produced a green-and-white packet of LM menthol cigarettes from his breast pocket and shook one out. Makana declined, preferring his own Cleopatras. Yousef then lit both of them with a gold lighter.
    ‘So you’re here to clean things up for us, eh?’
    ‘Sayyid Faragalla thought I might be able to help.’
    ‘I’m sure he did.’
    Yousef wore a gold chain around his neck that matched the watch on his wrist. There was something about him that was hard and cheap. It made you want to count your fingers after shaking hands. But he was also at ease. Makana had met his type before. He was used to giving