Mark of the Lion (37 page)

Gil had mapped this general area on paper, and more specifically on the rings, for a reason. He’d been planning to return here before his murder. Surely she’d learn something in the cave that would help find his killer. For too long she had felt responsible for David’s death, believing his recklessness was an attempt to ultimately gain her acceptance of his proposal. Now, perhaps, the burden of guilt would be lifted from her heart.

The cars finally sputtered into the desolate, rolling black pillows of the Shaitani flow, waves of lava frozen in midooze and baked into a miserable mockery of land. Once, they stopped to add water to both cars before they overheated, and Jade noticed the Ford purred less and chugged more asthmatically as they continued. This time, she rode with Harry and spoke her observation aloud to him.

“It’s running rough,” she said as she leaned over so he could hear her better.

“Well, what do you want me to do about it?” he asked. “And get that stinking hat away!”

She took off her hat and held it in her lap. “It’s the carburetor. It’s all fouled with dust.”

“Is this a desperate situation?”

“No, but it needs to be cleaned soon or it could become desperate later.”

He pointed to the bleak landscape around him. “I should prefer not to stop here. These rocks get blistering hot in the afternoon sun.”

Jade nodded. “Later, at the hills. I can take care of it then.”

Harry turned his head and opened his eyes wider as he caught her meaning. “
You’ll
take care of it? I forbid it.”

“Forbid it? Who’s paying for this safari? You?” Jade sat back in her seat. “I’ll do it.”

Harry muttered something disparaging about independent women under his breath, and Jade smiled. She put her hat on and winked at the two women behind her before she turned back to the lava fields.

The inhospitable Shaitani flows lacked nothing in drama. If the stories about the doomed African villages held any truth, then the flow must have been fast and probably occurred at night when everyone slept.
Dangerous business, sleeping
. Heat waves rippled off the black rock and gave the illusion that the lava was still in the act of cooling.

“Almost out of it,” said Harry. “We’ll leave the cars below on the grass and take the rest on the shank’s mare.” He slapped his leg to explain his meaning.

“Is it always this hot out here?” asked Beverly as they filed out of the cars.

“No. Sometimes it’s hotter,” replied Harry.

When Jade picked up her camera bag, she saw a small, greasy-looking spot at its bottom.
Blast it,
she thought. She’d thrown the rest of the Kikuyu sorcerer’s ointment in the bag after swiping down the tent flaps, and it had leaked. Jade handed the camera to Pili, added the Swahili book, a metal tin of exposed film and another of unexposed, then fished out the greasy amulet bag. “Ick,” she muttered and tossed it onto the back floor of the Ford. Ointment covered her hands. She had wiped half of it off on the car’s side when she stopped and looked at Pili.

“After that lion attack, you could stand a little more protection yourself. Hold still,” she added when he wrinkled his nose and stepped back. “Remember, it keeps lions and witches away.” She swiped her hands on his dusty tunic, repacked her camera equipment, and gave Pili the bag. Several more rounds of ammunition went in her pockets before she started up the hills with her Winchester. Once again, Memba Sasa stayed behind at the cars while the rest began the climb.

Roger was well in the lead already, but Jade soon reduced the distance between them. Pili followed closely on her heels.

The hills formed a long, humped chain resembling the vertebral column of a gigantic prehistoric beast that had long since been covered with plant life so that only the form remained. The sides weren’t steep, but many of the exposed rocks were loose, so Jade took care before setting her weight on them. Fat, furry rock hyraxes scampered off through the oat grass into small crevices. She and Roger soon outstripped the others. Jade felt a sudden elation rise up inside her.

“Mr. Forster,” she shouted, then decided to break down his barrier of formality and called him by his given name. “Roger.” His head peeked around a grassy knoll at her. “Exciting, isn’t it?” she said as she trotted the rest of the way to him. “Could there be diamonds here?”

“I am trying not to be too hopeful,
Miss
del Cameron. Perhaps Gil left a cache of ivory behind.”

“You may be right. It’s probably wise not to risk disappointment.” Jade nodded at his ring. “But no matter what, you also found that your father cared enough to try to find you,” she said. “Add to that a very special brother who was also determined to find you.”

“I suppose that
should
be worth something,” said Roger. “But I can’t pay my creditors with sentimental thought.” He lifted his head a little higher. “If there
is
nothing here, I am still the sole surviving son and heir to at least part of his London estate.”

“Of course,” said Jade. In her mind she wondered again how much of a fight Mrs. Worthy would give him.
That’s Roger’s battle. I’m staying out of it.
She started to reach out to pat his shoulder, but he backed away in his usual scornful manner. Jade didn’t repeat the attempt at familiarity. “Shall we find that cave then,
Mr
. Forster?”

“It should be just over this small ridge,” he replied. “You wait here.”

Jade shook her head no. She had no intention of staying back.

Pili arrived at that instant, and Roger immediately turned to climb the last ridge. Jade caught the scowl on Roger’s face. She knew he held Kikuyu and Wakamba natives in scorn, but why Pili? Was Roger also prejudiced against Somali or did he carry the general distrust of mission boys that many settlers evidenced? Jade shrugged. Whatever it was, it was Roger’s problem.

The cave entrance turned out to be a large lava tube tall enough for them to enter with only a slight stoop. If there had been a trail leading off from it once, there was none to speak of now. Jade looked at Roger to see how he took this new disappointment, but his moody face betrayed none of his usual frowns or scowls. If anything, he looked more alive.

“Can we go in?” she asked.

“Too dark,” said Roger. “The sun isn’t penetrating inside and what indirect light we have is sucked up by the black lava. These tubes are treacherous. There can be sudden drops, or perhaps the crust is thin and cracks open beneath you.” He took a deep breath and put his hands on his hips. “I’ll need good torches and lots of stout rope to explore these.”

The rest of the crew arrived just in time to hear these last words and expressed their disappointment in an assortment of moans, groans, and muttered mild expletives. Jade noted the “I” portion of Roger’s declaration.

“Cripes,” fumed Beverly. “This entire side trip is literally ‘on the rocks’ then. I wanted to explore inside a volcano. I’m no fraidy-cat.”

“Of course not, Lady Dunbury,” said Harry. “You’ve been splendid. But Roger’s right. At least in part. I think we can do without the rope if we don’t venture too far. There’s plenty of firewood here to make torches.” Roger protested that they must consider the ladies’ safety, but the company overruled him. Beverly called him a fussbudget, but Jade assumed he didn’t want to share any discoveries.

“At least let’s go back down to the cars for lunch first,” Roger suggested in exasperation.

“If he’s hoping that we won’t want to hike up this hill again, he’s mistaken,” confided Beverly to Madeline and Jade. “I intend to look in that tube, or cave, or whatever it’s called.”

Since Roger led the way back down the hill to the cars, they had little choice but to follow him. As Jade watched, the young man trotted ahead and made straight for Memba Sasa. After a short discussion in which Roger appeared to issue orders, the grizzled tracker nodded and headed off into the brush. No one else seemed to notice.

“While you eat, I’m going to get under that car and clean out the carburetor jet,” declared Jade. “I don’t fancy having a breakdown and sitting out in the plains past dusk.”

“Aren’t you going to eat first?” asked Madeline.

“I will if you make me a sandwich while I find the tools.”

The ladies sat on various rocks, putting chunks of smoked gazelle meat on slabs of flat, round bread. Jade bolted her meal down and rummaged in a side box for tools while Harry and Ruta gathered wood for torches. Roger sat alone, and Avery stretched out in the Dodge for a nap.

Beverly watched her American friend from a shady rock. “Jade,” she called. “Do you still have that Swahili grammar? I want to look something up.”

“In the camera bag.” Jade proceeded to slide on her back underneath the Ford.

Beverly found the book and sat back down to flip through various pages.

“What are you looking up?” asked Madeline.

“Shaitani,” replied Beverly. “I wonder what it means.”

“Satan,” said Madeline. “Swahili has some Arabic roots.”

Beverly beamed. “How smashing of you to know that straight off. But then, you must be quite fluent.”

Maddy shook her head. “You would think so, but I have to speak Kikuyu more than Swahili. I really am not as fluent as I should be.” She looked up as Roger Forster walked towards them. “Hullo, Mr. Forster.”

“What the hell does she think she’s doing?” he demanded, pointing at Jade.

“Fixing the carburetor,” replied Beverly nonchalantly. “The only way to get to it in a flivver is from underneath. That is,” she added with an impish grin, “unless you want to roll it over on its back. Isn’t that right, Jade?”

“Most definitely,” Jade shouted back from under the car over the sounds of metal pieces dropping to the ground.

“Well, stop it at once!” yelled Roger. His voice rose to a near hysterical pitch.

“Don’t be silly,” said Beverly. “We told you she’s a top-notch mechanic. Your car couldn’t be in better hands.” She held up a slab of bread. “You’re just overexcited about the cave. Have some lunch.”

“Beverly,” yelled Jade, “while you’re studying that book, look up ‘Pili’ for me. I thought I saw it the other day and wondered what it meant.”

Beverly looked first at Madeline, who shrugged, then flipped through the pages. Roger shouted, “It’s not Swahili, and it means warrior. Now get out from under that car!”

Jade didn’t obey, and Roger stormed off. The ladies presumed he went in search of Harry.

“My stars,” Beverly exclaimed. “Is that man always so high-strung?” Just then Jade gasped.

“Are you all right?” the women asked simultaneously.

“Hell’s bells and sweet mother of pearl!” Jade whispered. Then she added, “Is he gone?”

“Is who gone?” asked a rich baritone voice.

“Harry? Where’s Roger?” asked Jade from under the car. She slid parts of the dismantled carburetor out from underneath. “Bev, blow out the intake jet, will you?”

Bev took the part as well as the hint to move out of earshot and motioned for Madeline to help her. Harry knelt down next to the car and peered underneath.

“What’s going on here?” he demanded. “I heard Roger yelling a moment ago.”

“He wasn’t happy to see me under the car, and I think I know why.” She removed a carefully bundled brown sack and pushed it over to Harry. “He didn’t want me to find this.”

Harry took the sack gently in his large hands. “What is it?” he asked.

“I’m assuming your partner is smuggling something, and considering the state of Mrs. Estes in Nairobi, I’m betting it’s heroin.”

“I’ll be damned,” swore Harry.

“We can hope not, but he might well be,” replied Jade. “He probably figured it would be safe from detection tucked up above the works under the chassis.”

“It’s a fair bet he didn’t expect to have one of his customers be so eager to spend time underneath it, either. Damn!” he swore and pounded the dirt near Jade’s head. She coughed as the dust settled in her throat. “Sorry,” he added.

“What should we do?” she asked when she stopped coughing. “Pretend we didn’t find it, or try to talk some sense into his head?”

“No use pretending ignorance. I’ll talk to him,” said Harry after a brief pause. “Maybe with this inheritance, he’ll be willing to give up selling drugs.” He hefted the bag. “To own the truth, I hoped he might rethink coming in as a partner with me and join up our land as one ranch. He’s been struggling unsuccessfully to stay afloat, and I need more acreage for my cattle.”

“You knew about this place, didn’t you, Harry. You recognized the marks on the ring.”

Before Harry could admit or deny the accusation, Beverly returned with the newly cleaned intake jet. Jade quickly put the carburetor back together. She had skootched out from under the car with the aid of Harry’s strong right hand when a high-pitched scream ripped through the air from beyond the first low ridge.