Love and Death Among the Cheetahs

by Rhys Bowen

  “That’s crazy,” I said. “He must be crazy.”

  “But very clever. He knows how to whip up anger and hate, and national pride. We’ve underestimated him for too long.”

  I went across to the window. The view stretched to the line of hills in the blue distance. Those bright sunbirds were dipping at the edge of the fountain. It all seemed so far away and so unreal. I stood there, trying to digest all that had been said. Bwana had become a danger, possibly a German agent. And we had been housed with Diddy, next door to him. I turned back to face Darcy. “You knew about this before we came, didn’t you?”

  He nodded.

  “And that’s why you were sent out here. That jewel theft, that was just a story to keep me from asking more questions.”

  “Not exactly. There was a jewel theft, and we did have our eyes on Mr. Van Horn.”

  I took a deep breath. “So you deceived me. You lied to me.”

  He came over and put his hands on my shoulders. “Georgie, you have some kind of idea what I do. There will be times when I can’t tell you everything, when I’m not at liberty to tell you everything. And yes, my main reason for coming out here was to assess the situation and the danger he posed to our country.”

  “Will you promise not to lie if I ask you another question?”

  “I’ll try not to, if it’s a question I’m allowed to answer.”

  I took a deep breath, staring up into his eyes. “Do you know who killed him?”

  Chapter 28

  AUGUST 12

  AT DIDDY’S HOUSE

  Some things are beginning to make sense. I almost wish I didn’t know what I’ve been told. It would be so much easier if a jealous husband followed Bwana and stabbed him. Well, maybe one did. I am going to stay well out of it and try to enjoy my time here. I hope Darcy can stay out of it too.

  The question that had first formed in my mind was so shocking I could not say it out loud. It was “Did you kill him?” but I knew that was impossible. Darcy had been in bed beside me all night. I’d swear to that. So I repeated the question. “Well, do you know who killed him?”

  “I wish I did,” he said. “It’s possible that the Communist Party also has agents working in the colony, trying to do what Bwana was doing. And it’s possible that one of them decided to put a stop to his activities. But the question remains: how did anyone know he was going to be on that stretch of road at that time of night?”

  “Someone at that party is an undercover communist agent?” I said. “That seems highly unlikely. Communists aren’t supposed to indulge and spend and have millions of servants, are they?”

  “I wish I knew, Georgie,” he said. He took me into his arms. “But whatever else is going on, this is your honeymoon and I want you to have a wonderful time here. All right?”

  “All right,” I said hesitantly. Then I looked up at him and he kissed me.

  “We should get changed and be sociable, I suppose,” I said. “But what about Mr. Van Horn? You told me he dealt in jewels. He claims he is a broker.”

  “I don’t think that’s incorrect,” he said. “He makes deals. He travels internationally.” He moved closer to me. “We also suspect he is working for the German government.”

  “So his purpose here was not to receive stolen goods but to meet with Lord Cheriton?”

  Darcy nodded. “It is possible.”

  “Then why stay down in Gilgil? He never had a chance to speak with Lord Cheriton alone.”

  “Not to cause suspicion, I expect. He must know that his movements are followed. But why do you think he worked on Cyril Prendergast to be invited on a safari with him and clearly to stay a night or two next door to Cheriton?”

  “So someone didn’t want that meeting to take place,” I said, putting two and two together. “Fortuitous that Bwana was killed right before the meeting.”

  Darcy nodded. “Freddie was supposed to be looking into a communist cell working in Nairobi. But then he got posted here—out to the back of beyond, safely away from the capital.”

  “Freddie? He’s actually one of your lot . . . ?”

  Darcy smiled. “Whatever my ‘lot’ means. Let’s just say he’s in contact with the British government and he’s helping.”

  I swallowed back the word “golly.” “You don’t think he killed Lord Cheriton?” I asked.

  “I think I would have known if that was the plan,” Darcy said. “Actually we are not encouraged to go around killing people, willy-nilly. The boys in Whitehall just want to keep tabs on things and know what is going on.”

  “Atkins,” I said suddenly. “He lives and works in Nairobi. He works for the Kenyan government, doesn’t he? And got himself invited to the party when it didn’t seem like his sort of thing at all. And conveniently left before the police could arrive.”

  Darcy shook his head. “I don’t see how Atkins could possibly have learned that Cheriton was in the pocket of the Germans. And even if he did . . .”

  “He’s a true-blue Englishman. He is outraged, especially when that person inherits a British title. He determines to put a stop to him before he can do more damage.”

  “Possible,” Darcy said hesitantly. “Although I don’t see how anyone is going to prove it. They’ll all swear Atkins was in bed with someone all night—or more than one person, as the case may be.” He shrugged. “Anyway, let’s not go on with this. The murder inquiry is nothing to do with us. Someone has taken care of the government’s problem for me. My only concern is to look out for a stolen jewel and if that was going to change hands it has already done so.”

  “But if Mr. Van Horn has received the stolen diamond, wouldn’t he want to get out of the country as quickly as possible?”

  “If the jewel was destined for him,” Darcy said. “Maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it’s nowhere near Kenya at this moment. I can’t say.” He put his hands on my shoulders. “Anyway. You and I should now attempt to enjoy ourselves and make the most of our time here. What would you like to do?”

  “I wouldn’t mind going on safari with Cyril,” I said. “I’d like to see some animals.”

  “Then we’ll arrange for him to take us too,” Darcy said. “Two birds with one stone, wouldn’t you say? Keeping tabs on Mr. Van Horn, although now that Bwana is dead, I presume he’ll just leave quietly. Unless . . .”

  “Unless he is involved with the diamond?”

  “I was going to say unless someone else here is his contact. We do understand that Bwana was part of a small cell of Fascist sympathizers. But our first task is to visit Angel and break the news to her. I’m not looking forward to it.”

  “I don’t think she’ll be heartbroken, somehow,” I replied.

  He had to smile. “Maybe you’re right. Neither will his children. I think they’ll all want to put the property on the market and be out of here as quickly as possible.”

  We washed and changed into clean clothes then went to find Diddy. She was sitting at a table on the front lawn with Cyril and Mr. Van Horn, who was now in his shirtsleeves and looking a little more relaxed. A pitcher of what looked like a cloudy sort of lemonade was on the table in front of them. Diddy looked up as we approached. “Here they are, our newlyweds. What a horrible thing to happen on your honeymoon. Of course, you didn’t know Bwana, but finding his body like that. What a shock. Come and sit down and have a gin fizz.”

  I accepted, reluctantly. They certainly started drinking early here. The taste was not unpleasant, but I took only a sip before saying, “Diddy, we should go over to Bwana’s. Darcy was asked to break the news to them before it reaches them by other channels. Do you think you should come with us?”

  “Oh, darlings.” She looked uncomfortable. “Yes, you’re right. Maybe I should.”

  “Maybe you should be the one to break it to her, since you know her and we don’t,” Darcy suggested.

  She made a face.
“If you really think so. Gosh, what an awful thing to have to do. You’ll have to supply the details, though.” She got to her feet and turned to Mr. Van Horn. “We’ll be right back, Mr. Van Horn. Please help yourself to anything you need.”

  “Most kind.” He nodded to her. Now that Darcy had mentioned he might be a German agent I saw that many of his mannerisms reminded me of Max, my mother’s ex-beau. Was it possible that he was actually German and not Afrikaans at all?

  “Don’t worry. I shall keep him entertained,” Cyril said. “I was hopping mad this morning when I thought that he had overslept and I’d gone to all this trouble. But now I understand I maligned the poor chap. So I am at your disposal, dear Mr. Van Horn. May I suggest we take a little stroll up into the forest? There is always something to be seen.”

  “Go carefully, won’t you,” Diddy said. “The boys saw elephants bathing in the stream just above. One of them had a baby with them.”

  “Darling, I know all about elephants,” Cyril said. “Elephants and I are on the same wavelength, I assure you. We respect each other.”

  Mr. Van Horn didn’t look convinced or eager to move.

  We left them and crossed the lawn to the gap in the hedge. I glanced at the little cottage as we passed it. The door was open and it looked completely empty inside now. At least Rupert wouldn’t have to worm out of accepting his father’s insistence that he live there.

  “Who used to live in that cottage?” I asked Diddy.

  “It was built for his first servant when he arrived here, years ago,” she said. “A woman who took care of him. She left and went back to her people when he . . .”

  She broke off. Joseph was coming out of one of the buildings and saw us. “Memsabu Diddy. You are early visitors,” he said. “I am not sure if they are ready to receive guests yet. I don’t even think that the memsabu is awake.”

  Awake? I thought. It must be after noon already! What strange lives they led here.

  “It’s rather important, Joseph,” Diddy said. “I’m afraid you’ll need to wake Lady Cheriton.”

  “Oh dear.” His face clouded. “Not bad news? We have received no word from Bwana. But then he was not expected home until later today.”

  “I should speak to Lady Cheriton first,” Diddy said. “You’ll all find out soon enough.”

  We were escorted into the big living room. It felt cold and unfriendly at this hour. We waited what seemed like an eternity, then came the light tapping of high heels and Angel came along the hallway. She was dressed in simple slacks and a pale blue open-necked shirt. There were dark circles around her eyes but otherwise she looked in the picture of health.

  “Goodness, you are early birds today,” she said. “I’ve only just finished my bath and my maid was trying a new hairstyle on me. Do you like it? I think it may be a little too curly.” She gave a twirl for us. “So what brings you here?”

  “Bad news, I’m afraid,” Diddy said. “You may want to sit down.”

  “Sit down? What for?” Then the import of this seemed to sink in. “It’s Ross, isn’t it? Something’s happened to him.”

  “He’s dead, Angel,” Diddy said.

  “Oh my God.” The color had drained from her face. “Was it a car accident? I knew it would happen someday. He always drives that damned road too fast.”

  “It wasn’t an accident, Lady Cheriton,” Darcy said. “I’m afraid he was murdered.”

  I thought I heard an intake of breath from Joseph, but well-trained servant that he was, he said nothing.

  “Murdered? Someone killed my husband?” She was still standing, her hands gripping the back of a Queen Anne chair. “But he was at Idina’s party all night surely. Was there a quarrel? A fight? They do drink an awful amount and I suspect there were drugs available too. And he can be quite antagonistic. . . .” She gave a little hiccup of a sob. “I can’t quite believe it. Not Bwana. He was always so strong. So full of life, wasn’t he?”

  “He was killed on his way home to you,” Darcy said. “Someone waylaid him and made him stop.”

  Nobody was asking the questions I was dying to ask. Maybe Darcy was about to get to them, but just in case I decided to ask them myself. “You seem to be feeling much better now,” I ventured.

  “Better?”

  “You didn’t come to the party because you were feeling under the weather.”

  She shrugged. “I just had one of my migraines. Loud noise and bright lights are the worst things for it so I stayed home. And frankly those parties are not the way I was raised. Bwana loved them. He loved the chase and the conquest.” She stared hard at me. “He was after you, you know. Because you played hard to get. He made a bet with Idina that he would bed you last night. I take it he didn’t succeed.”

  “He did not,” I said, indignantly. “I made it quite clear that I was not interested. Weren’t you worried when he didn’t arrive home?”

  She looked puzzled. “But it’s only just noon. I assumed he would be sleeping off the excesses of last night. He never comes home until midday after a party.”

  “But you telephoned him last night and asked him to come home because you were feeling worse. He left around midnight.”

  “I most certainly did not telephone him,” Angel said. “When I have a migraine the only thing to do is to shut myself in a dark room, take a sleeping pill and try to sleep it off. As you can see, it worked.”

  “Somebody telephoned him at midnight, claiming to be you,” I said. “He left to drive home.”

  “How extraordinary. I can’t think who that could have been. Certainly not me. I was in bed by nine o’clock. I left the twins playing cards.” She turned to Joseph, who was standing in the doorway. “Joseph, you locked up as usual, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, memsabu,” he said. “The children of Bwana were playing a card game. I locked the doors at ten o’clock and went to bed.”

  “And you heard nothing after that?” Darcy asked. “No sound of a vehicle?”

  “No, sir. Besides, Bwana had taken his Buick motorcar. Apart from that there are only estate vehicles—very slow moving, and the keys are in Bwana’s office. Who would know that?”

  “There was certainly no big farm vehicle on that road last night,” I said. “We would have seen the tire tracks.”

  “I presume Freddie can find out from the telephone exchange where the call came from last night.” I turned to Darcy. “Someone must have been able to impersonate Angel realistically enough to make Bwana leave the party.”

  “I don’t understand,” Angel said. “This is very different from a drunken brawl at a party. This is cold and calculated murder. Someone lured my husband to his death and waited patiently to kill him.”

  “It seems that way,” Darcy agreed.

  Angel crossed the room. “I need a drink,” she said. She opened the decanter and poured a tumbler almost full of what looked like gin. Then she splashed about half an inch of tonic on top and downed it as if it was water. I glanced uneasily at Darcy, not sure whether we should now take our leave.

  Luckily Diddy went over to Angel. “Look, my dear, if there is anything we can do to help, please let us know. You’ll need to plan a funeral, and think about the future.”

  “The future?” A look of realization came over her face. “Yes, I suppose I’ll have to decide what to do. Certainly not stay on here alone. I could go home, or back to Europe. Get out of this bloody place.” A hopeful spark had come into her eyes. “And his children . . .” She broke off. “Oh God. They’ll have to be told. Are Bwana’s children awake yet, Joseph?”

  “Yes, memsabu. They are playing tennis.”

  “Then please ask them to come in immediately.” She turned back to us. “I’d rather break the news while you are here. I’m not sure how they will take it.”

  “They weren’t close to their father, were they?” I said, realizing too late I s
hould probably have stayed silent. “I gather they hardly saw him since they were small.”

  “Bwana walked out on that wife when the twins were four,” Angel said. “Their mother married again. So he has never been in their lives as a father.”

  “Then whose idea was it to bring them out here at this time?” I went on. “Theirs or their father’s?”

  “Oh, it was my husband’s. I don’t think they were at all keen but they are both loafers, so one gathers, and they couldn’t turn down a free holiday.” She gave a bitter laugh. I could see the gin overtaking her caution. “Miserable little brats, both of them, if you want to know.” She glanced toward the door in case they were already coming in. “It was when Ross inherited the title and realized that Rupert was his heir. He started thinking about handing over this estate someday. He wanted his son to run it. I can’t see that happening, can you? Besides, this place has only become prosperous with my money. I’m not just about to hand it over to . . .” She stopped as the front door opened and the twins came in. They were both red faced and sweaty with exertion and carried tennis racquets.

  “Oh God. Not visitors in the morning! How uncivilized, Angel,” Rowena exclaimed, then saw me. “What do they want?”

  “We were just in the middle of a cracking game,” Rupert said. “Can’t you entertain without us?”

  “This is not a social call,” Diddy said. “We come with bad news. I’m afraid that your father has been killed.”

  I watched their faces. Disbelief? Wariness? And even relief. Certainly no great grieving.

  “Was it an accident?” Rowena asked after a long silence.

  “No. It appears he was murdered,” Darcy said. “Driving home from the party last night.”

  “Last night?” Rupert looked puzzled. “We weren’t expecting him home until this afternoon. He told us those parties usually got rather . . . wild . . . and nobody left until after breakfast.”

  “That’s true,” Darcy said, “but somebody telephoned him, pretending to be Angel, and wanted him home immediately. And he was intercepted on the way home.”