Frederick Ramsay_Botswana Mystery 01 (16 page)

Chapter 35

Brenda wanted breakfast. Bobby was dead to the world. She thought it would be neat if she gave him a poke with her
assegai
to get him moving
.
Serve him right, too. He couldn’t be the only one doing the poking. She smiled at her joke—good one. Rummaging through the pile of parcels, discarded clothes, and underwear that had accumulated on the bench at the foot of the bed produced nothing. She scratched her head and tried to remember where she’d seen it last. She attacked the pile a second time. She did find the paper bag it had been in and the sales slip, but no spear point.

She found a ball point pen, a poor substitute for an
assegai,
and used it to give Bobby the poke in the ribs. He moaned and called her a name. Maybe she should, like, go to breakfast without him. And maybe she’d take some pills and poison Travis’ coffee, the rat bastard. She wondered idly how many Percocets it would take to snuff him. She went back to the heap on the bench and pulled out her safari shorts. She put them on. Added the blouse and tucked it in. The belt was on the floor. She found one glove but not the other and the scarf was missing. She wondered if she’d left them in Travis’ room. Probably, but that didn’t explain the spear point going missing. She frowned. She knew she wasn’t exactly a neatnik, but also she always knew where things were in the piles and messes she made, and that
assegai
should have been in the bag on the bench. So what happened to it?

“Where do you think you’re going?” Bobby had woken and was watching her with one eye.

“Breakfast. You know how I am after. I could eat a whole, whatever that thing was they served last night. Kubu? No that’s not right. That’s what I called it and the waiter laughed at me. He said
kubu
meant hippopotamus and they didn’t serve hippo. But it sounded like that.”

“Kudu.”

“What?”

“The meat was kudu, not
kubu
. Kudu is like a big deer thing only with different horns. I saw a picture.”

“Big whoop, Bobby, you know, like, big freaking deal. So you know your animals. I knew it wasn’t a hippo steak. Look, if you want to eat breakfast with me, you’ll get your lazy ass out of bed.”

Bobby rolled off the bed and made his way to the bathroom. His back was crisscrossed with red scratch marks where she’d clawed at him the night before.

“Hey, it’s all steamy in here. What have you been doing?”

“Taking a shower, stupid. You could use one, too, but hurry up. I’m starving. Hey, you haven’t seen my spear thing anywhere have you? I can’t find it.”

“I didn’t take it. What makes you think I had anything to do with it? What did
you
do with it, is the question. I think you better be thinking about that.”

“What the hell are you talking about? I just asked you if you’d seen it anywhere, that’s all. What’s with the third degree? Jesus, you sound like a cop or something.”

“Maybe you ought to get used to that.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean? Bobby, what have you been up to? I know you, there’s something.”

“Nothing.”

“Yeah, yeah. Listen you better hope I find out in time so I can square it with whoever, or whatever, is going to be, like, after you.”

“You’re on the wrong cart path there, sweetie. You’re the one who…”

“I’m the one who what?”

“Nothing. Are we going to breakfast or do you need an appetizer first?”

“Don’t need an appetizer. And if you want any more of me anytime soon, you’ll tell me what you did that has you so, you know, defensive.”

Bobby, she noted, dummied up. Something had happened lately, and he didn’t want her to know what. Pretty typical. They left for the lodge, Brenda plotting how she’d wangle the thing out of him and then how she could sneak into Travis’ room without him knowing so she could get her glove and scarf and, oh yeah, her red thong. Who needed Travis anyway.

As they stepped from the room, the housekeeping staff, which had been loitering a few steps away, picked up their equipment and moved toward them.

“Great, give it a going over only don’t screw around with my crap.” Brenda stepped aside to let them enter. “Sheets, towels. Lots of towels. Like, we’re always running out of them, and stuff. The bed is a mess, too. You might need rubber gloves to change it. Junior, here, isn’t exactly Mr. Sanitary.”

The staff showed some more of those amazingly white teeth. How do they do that? Their dentist bills must be out of this world. They hadn’t a clue what she was saying.

“Hey, babe, while you’re at it, look around under the bed, and here and there, and see if you can find my other glove. I lost it in there somewhere.”

Bobby surfaced from his morning stupor.

“What are they doing?”

“Cleaning the room and all. Where you at, Bobby? It’s nearly nine-thirty. They have a job to do.”

“I don’t want the room cleaned.” He gestured at the women and raised his voice. “No cleanee the roomo, you understandee?”

“You jerk. They, like, speak English and they ain’t deaf. They gotta clean the room. It’s their job. Even if it wasn’t, I want them to. They should, like, fumigate the place. It stinks from too much bed wrestling.” She turned back to the crew. “Clean it. He’s still drunk, you know?” She mimed tilting a bottle to her mouth and pointed at Bobby. The women laughed.

“No, no, not now, later.” Bobby sounded desperate. What was up with him?

“Okay, hot shot, they can do it later. But if you have any ideas about getting back in that bed anytime soon, you can forget it, for sure.”

Bobby seemed mollified and turned back toward the lodge. Brenda made a shooing sign to the crew indicating they should go on in the room and clean it anyway. Bobby was an idiot. She really needed to get a better deal somewhere. She almost had it with Travis until Leo stepped in and ruined it. Leo and idiot boy. But there was something else in the wind. She was sure of it and her antennae were up. Bobby couldn’t fool a two-year-old. He’d done something, and if she could just find out what it was, she might have the upper hand again. That would be good.

All she knew was there was something in the room he needed intact, and there was something about her and…who? Not Travis. He’d dropped that. Leo? She’d find out and then, ladies, hold on to your panties.

Chapter 36

This time Leo stood and answered the door. Two anxious looking men waited on the doorstep.

“Mr. Painter, sir, can you help us?”

“I don’t know. I suppose it depends on what you want?”

“Your friend, Mr. Farrah, is missing. We are concerned, and thought he might be with you.”

“Oh, excuse me. Come in.” The men sidled into the room. “This is Mr. Greshenko and Mr. Parrizi, my associates. Perhaps they can help, and police inspector…”

“Kgabo Modise, from Gabz. What happened?”

The two men exchanged worried glances and one, probably the more senior of the two, said, “We are the management. We are concerned about Mr. Farrah?”

“Henry? No, he’s not with me. Why? Is something wrong?” Leo tried to remember if Farrah said anything the night before.

“We are not sure. You see, it is like this. Mr. Farrah engaged to go with a group to Zimbabwe to see the Victoria Falls. We do not recommend our guests go alone because of the situations in that country. He failed to meet the bus. We placed a call to his room, and no answer. The driver, he is getting impatient. We knock on Mr. Farrah’s door. Again no answer. So, we think, maybe this man is, perhaps, sick. So, we open the door. By now the group has left for the Falls without him and the driver is not so happy to do that. But, you see, Mr. Farrah’s bed is still made, not been slept in, and he is not there. We are worried he might be hurt or…” The manager’s voice trailed off.

“I can’t imagine why he did not return to his room. He seemed all right when he left here.”

“The barkeep says he was unsteady when he received a call from you, he thinks, and then Mr. Farrah leaves.”

“You mean he was drunk the last time anyone saw him at the bar.”

“It is so. And because of this unsteadiness, it is possible he could have fallen. If he goes too near the river, or…” The manager shrugged and rolled his eyes.

“Or what? You think he might have fallen in? The water would sober him up in a big hurry. He wouldn’t go near the river no matter how drunk he was, and if he fell in, he’d fly out of there like a rocket. Henry was terrified of your crocodiles.”

“I was thinking of the lion.”

“The lion? Don’t tell me that it’s real, too. There really is a lion on the loose? Christ, I thought that was just a PR ploy.”

“No. Mr. Painter,” the manager looked hurt, “I assure you there is a lion threat. Not three kilometers from here a young man was taken. It was very sad. We warned you when you arrived to be careful, you see. Even now, they are hunting it.”

“Well, I’ll be…”

“So if you can help us find him, Mr. Farrah, I mean, we would be grateful.”

“I don’t know what I can do, frankly. Farrah spent about an hour here last night, He left about ten, and I think he was headed to the Sedudu Bar. Maybe he passed out down there.”

“The boy has already been there to clean, and he does not report your friend being there. Perhaps he is nearby.”

“Sorry, it’s the best I can do. Say, do you think you could have a pot of coffee and some Danish sent down? I am in the middle of a meeting here with my associates, and Inspector Moeasy has some questions he wants to ask us.”

“Modise.”

“What? Oh, sorry, Inspector
Modise
. When he’s finished perhaps he can help hunt. Isn’t that what you do, Inspector, hunt for things?”

Modise gave Leo a chilly smile. “It is one of the things we do, Mr. Painter. Stopping crime is often about hunting.”

The two hotel employees left with a promise to send over food and drink.

“Inspector, you asked me a question before we were interrupted. In the confusion I lost my train of thought. What was it again?”

“You are not concerned about your missing friend?”

“Henry Farrah is not my friend. He is, or I should say, was, an employee. I do not make friends of my employees. To my mind it is bad business. I work with them, am cordial most of the time, but I learned early in my career that it is much easier to fire an acquaintance than a friend. Furthermore, the man was preparing to stab me in the back, metaphorically speaking. One of several with that idea in mind, I might add.” Leo shot Travis a look.

“I am sorry to hear that. You are correct, I did not ask about your friend before, I asked if there was anything you and Mr. Greshenko, and now Mr. Parizzi, were about here in Kasane that could cause either of us to be concerned for your future stay in Botswana?”

“No, Inspector. There is not. Our dealings with Mr. Botlhokwa, were aboveboard. We were led to believe he had certain connections that might expedite our business here. That is all.”

“I am happy to hear that.” Modise did not look either happy or convinced. He rose to leave, and his eye fell on the bit of
boloi
. Where did that come from?”

“Had a flat tire on the way over here, found that in the back of the LADA when I went to look for the jack. I think somebody doesn’t like me.”

“So it would seem. You say you had a flat tire?”

“Two.”

“Then it must have worked. May I have it?” Greshenko nodded. “We have an open case concerning the disappearance of a young girl. We will take this to the lab and run a DNA scan.”

“You think that’s human?” Leo found the idea appalling.

“I think this is monkey, but I must be sure. The lab will know. And if it isn’t then we will be back to find out who purchased it and, from whom.”

“Well, good luck with that.”

Modise produced an evidence bag from his coat pocket and placed the charm in it, marked the time, date, and place it had been recovered. He walked to the door, paused and faced the three men.

“Please do not require me to return to you. Take some advice. Do your business without the famous Rra Botlhokwa.”

When he’d left, Leo turned to Greshenko, “Can we?”

“Maybe yes and maybe no.”

“Leo,” Travis said, “would you fill me in on what you’ve been doing. If I’m going to spend time in a Botswana jail, I’d like to know why.”

“Here’s our coffee. Have a cup and then we’ll talk.” He let the staff person in and waited until the man set up and departed. “All right, Yuri, fill Travis in on what we’ve been doing.

Chapter 37

Sanderson looped back to her village after reporting to her supervisor. Pako seemed preoccupied with packing, unpacking, and repacking boxes in anticipation of his move to Maun. He said he did not have time for her this day or to give her any direction.

“You should be out hunting the lion. You should understand that if there is failure doing this thing, there was nothing I can say to my successor to help you keep her position.”

He looked very smug when he said that. She excused herself and left.

She checked in on Michael. He seemed better, stronger. He smiled and assured her that his sister had made him eat.

“Too much, Mma. Tell my sister I will die of overeating before this disease gets me.”

She made a face at him. Making jokes like that did not please her at all. Still, it showed he was stronger. Maybe…No she would not think it.

She made an early lunch of some cold meat left over from the previous night and the bit of breakfast porridge still in the pot. Her mobile beeped just as she finished.

The hotel was calling. There had been an accident with a lion. She must come immediately. A lion? Her lion? That could not be. Her lion, as everyone in the village knew, was in the Makgadikgadi Pans by now. What is this? She called a goodbye to her son and raced to the Land Rover. Rra Kaleke stood in front of his rondeval. She waved to him.

“Rra, you must come there is another lion taking a man.”

Kaleke shuffled as fast as he could and slid into the cab next to her. “Where is the lion doing this?”

“At the Safari Lodge near the Sedudu Bar. It is all I know. But they are thinking it is the same animal that took that Zimbabwe boy. But it cannot be the same one.”

Kaleke shook his head. They raced to the Kasane road and turned toward the lodge. Three police cars were drawn up in front, but as they arrived, two of them drove off toward the end of the hotel property to park nearer the bar. She followed.

A crowd had gathered at the camping ground that covered the space between the hotel’s separate lodge buildings and the Sedudu Bar. Police were busy urging them back. Anxious faces turned toward her as she strode forward through the crowd. She was the gamekeeper; she would know. Sanderson pushed ahead and, followed closely by Rra Kaleke, made her way through the crowd toward the spot where two men stood talking animatedly to a third. As she approached they turned and seeing her uniform, pointed further into the bush.

She saw the lion first. His huge body stretched out and his head rested on the man’s chest. He appeared peaceful and asleep. The plethora of flies indicated he wasn’t. She drew closer.

“It is Sekoa,” she said. “It is the old lion from the Natanga pride. So this is where it ends, old man,” she said to the lion, then realized Rra Kaleke might think she spoke to him.

He did not. “This
tau
did not kill this man,” Kaleke said. He shook his head. “That is very strange. It looks like he just put all his energy in bringing his prey to this spot and then he says goodbye to the world.”

“He was a sick lion. His poor body must have just given out. But why do you say he did not kill the man?”

“You see, there are no wounds to the man’s neck. If this lion did take this man, he would close those terrible jaws on his
kgokgotsho
, his…what is it? His throat? He would close down on it
until he is dead. Then he would bring him to this place. But look here. There are only the marks on the shoulder, but, you see, his wind-pipe has no marks. Then he drags this body to this place from over there.” Kaleke pointed back the way they’d come at the disturbed grass and scarred earth on the camp ground.

Sanderson looked back the way he’d indicated and then back at the man.

“Maybe this man had a fall or a heart attack and old Sekoa came upon him and say, ‘Here is a fine meal for me,’ and dragged him in the bush to feed. Only he is too sick and so he dies.”

They signaled for help and the man who’d been talking to the hotel staff came over.

“We must move this body away from the animal,” she directed the man to grab the shoulders and she his feet. On her count Kaleke lifted the lion’s head and they slid the body out from under it.

“What is this?” She studied the angry gash on the man’s abdomen. “That does not look like a lion wound.”

“What then?” The man who’d come to help said.

“I do not know, but that is not from this old man—the lion, I mean.”

“I am Inspector Modise of the Gaborone Police. What are you suggesting?”

“I am saying nothing, only that this lion did not kill this man but he has some sort of wound.”

Superintendent Mwambe strolled over to the group.

“Where is your boss, Sanderson? Where is Mr. Pako?”

“He is busy preparing to depart. He says I must handle this.”

“Well, it seems you have found your lion at last. It is unfortunate for this man you did not find him sooner. Were you hunting in the wrong place, Missus?”

Kaleke faced the police superintendent. “This is not the lion that took that boy.”

“Nonsense. And who are you to make such an assertion? Of course it is the lion. I will tell the hotels they can relax their vigilance. The lion has been found and is dead, no thanks to Sanderson.”

“But—” Sanderson felt Rra Kaleke’s hand on her arm and glanced at him. He shook his head. Mwambe marched away to direct his officers in their duties and give the hotel manager the good news. Modise frowned and followed him more slowly.

“Sanderson, accept the lion. It will relieve you of pretending to hunt. That other lion is gone, and this one will do, you see? That Mwambe cannot be told anything; he is so puffed up, this man. Do you know what he is named in the village?
Tshwena
, the baboon.”

She saw Kaleke’s point. If luck gives you this chance, you must go for it.

A truck arrived to take the body away. People milled around waiting to see what would happen to the lion. A dead lion was worth much pula. His pelt alone would bring a big price in the right places, and certain of his parts, like his heart, could be sold to the witches for money or favors. If they buried it, surely someone would return and dig him up. Sanderson called for a second truck to come and collect the lion. Sekoa belonged to the government now, and severe penalties would fall on anyone who tried to interfere.

The hotel manager walked over to Sanderson and Rra Kaleke. He nodded to her but addressed him.

“Rra, what do you make of this situation? This man was a guest from America, a Mr. Henry Farrah.”

“It is a confusion. We see this lion, and he is with the dead man, but he is not the cause of this man’s dying. At first I believed he has seen this old lion coming at him and his
pelo
just stops from fright.”

“You think the lion jumps out of the bush, and the man, this Henry Farrah, had a heart attack?”

“Yes, that is what I think it must be at first, but then I see that this man has come across a very strange thing. He has had a meeting with something very sharp and it did him a disservice. I think he falls over there,” he pointed back along the route marking the broken brush and flattened grass. Rra Kaleke gazed sadly at the departing truck carrying the last remains of Henry Farrah. “And then this poor lion found him and dragged him in the bush for a meal, but he didn’t live to eat it. Maybe it is the
tau
that has the heart failure, instead.”

“You do not think that the wound was made by the lion?”

“No. If the lion bites him, there will be many punctures. His teeth are in pairs, you see?” Kaleke bent over and pulled back Sekoa’s lips to expose his incisors and massive fangs. “You see this one on the right side of his mouth is chipped. He must have had a disagreement with a
nare,
you know, a big buffalo
,
and broke off a piece when he tries to bite on his
kgokgotsho
to bring him down.”

“He fought a buffalo you think?”

“Of course, many. This one is a proud animal, he would bring down buffalo, anything except a grown elephant, I think.” Rra Kaleke surveyed the nearby trees. “If the
manong
had found these two sooner, there would be no evidence to tell us these things.”

“But, why did the vultures not come until now?”

“Who can read the minds of all these creatures that Modimo gives to us?”