by D C Macey
‘Don’t shoot the dogs! Joseph needs them,’ shouted Jeanie, coming out of her trance.
Sam raised the revolver, pointing through the gap and fired three times more in quick succession. Startled by the close proximity gunshots, the dogs had released their bite and pulled back a couple of paces. Sam threw down the revolver and stooped to grab the wounded leg. ‘Door,’ he shouted to Helen.
She released the pressure on the door handle and Sam jerked the mauled leg inside. Helen slid the door fully shut and flicked the door latch on, just ahead of the returning pack. The two biggest dogs reached the glass first. It vibrated under the shock of their impact, and they growled, snarled, scratched claws against the doorframe in frustration and pressed muzzles against the glass as they were joined by the rest of the pack, all angry that their prey had escaped. Suddenly, they fell silent and instantly vanished into the night.
‘Lights on,’ said Sam, and Val responded immediately, filling the room with light and excluding the night as the windows once again acted as mirrors reflecting the brightness back into the room.
Helen was kneeling, looking at the man’s leg as Sam picked up the revolver and handed it back to Jeanie.
She took the weapon, looked at it absently then focused her attention on Sam. ‘You shot the dogs. They’re our protection. What will Joseph do? What about his children, they love the dogs.’
Sam put an arm round Jeanie, guided her towards one of the sofas that were dotted around the lounge. She allowed herself to be led. ‘It’s okay, Jeanie. I didn’t shoot the dogs. Just gave them a little scare. I aimed over the first one’s ears. Knowing ridgebacks, there was no point in shooting it once it had clamped its jaws on the leg. Wounded, it would have almost certainly died biting, shooting it wouldn’t have deterred any of the other dogs. The shock tactic of a huge bang beside their ears was our best bet, it moved them all back for just a moment.
‘Now you sit there for a minute while I fix you a G and T. Looks like you could do with one.’
Jeanie nodded absently, content that Joseph’s dogs had survived.
Sam squeezed her arm. ‘Well done, Jeanie.’ He pointed at the wounded man. ‘Watch him while I’m gone. If he tries anything, shout for me, and if you have to, use the gun this time, okay?’
‘I might have a drink myself,’ said Helen, looking up from where she was applying pressure to the man’s bleeding wounds with her tee shirt, which she had just peeled off. Swinging gently as she bent over him was the signet ring suspended on its heavy gold chain. ‘See if you can find a medical kit while you’re at it.’
Moments later, Val hurried up to Helen and placed a big first aid kit on the floor beside her. The man had regained some composure now that it had dawned on him he was not going to be savaged to death by the pack of dogs.
Helen looked up at the maid. ‘Thanks. Now I need some fresh water and then perhaps you’d go to my room and get me a clean top please?’ She turned her attention back to the wound and lapsed into a near automatic process. Her first career as a nurse and three years spent in a mission hospital in the Congo had conditioned her responses.
The medical kit was impressive, and she could see everything was there for her to do a full treatment on the spot. The water arrived allowing her to rinse away the blood and dog drool from the leg. The calf had several deep lacerations, it was going to need some serious needlework, but not by her. She used a bottle of antiseptic fluid to clean the wound and then dressed it securely. Her intention was to get him fit to travel to hospital where they could do the sewing. He was going to need some precautionary injections too. While she guessed the compound dogs were not rabies carriers, that too would need to be considered.
Then she turned her attention to the foot. It had been grabbed at the onset of the attack and been the subject of constant savaging. She wondered what was left of it. Taking a pair of scissors, she carefully cut the man’s bootlace and began to ease the boot off his foot. He cried out in pain and slapped his hand against the flooring.
Helen looked at him. ‘I’m sorry but we really need to see the damage,’ she said.
He ignored her, rocking his head from side to side and moaning.
Val returned from Helen’s room with a clean top just as Helen decided to get it over with. She pulled the boot off; the maid covered her face with a hand and gasped in fear. The man cried in pain. Helen looked at the exposed foot as Sam arrived with the drinks.
‘How is he?’ said Sam.
‘Whimpering,’ said Helen. Throwing the boot down, she reached out and jerked her top from the mesmerised maid’s hand. While the casualty was distracted by the pain in his ankle, Helen pulled the top over her head, pushed her arms through the sleeves and collected a glass of rosé from Sam in one seamless movement. She took a mouthful from the glass, held it for a moment then swallowed and repeated before setting the glass down on the floor beside her.
‘Look, the boot has taken the full force of the attack. It’s full of holes but his foot is fine. A bit of bruising but nothing to write home about,’ she looked up at Sam. ‘True, his ankle is a bit messy but that’s down to me forcing the patio door against it. I’ll just put a strapping on the whole thing and that will do him till he gets to hospital.’
The strapping took only a couple of minutes to complete, and then Sam sat the man up, propping him against a sofa. He sat opposite the injured man. ‘So, what have you got to say for yourself?’ said Sam.
Helen retrieved her wine glass from the floor and sat next to Sam, taking her first opportunity to take a proper look at the man’s face. ‘Just a minute, Sam. I know this man,’ she said.
‘What do you mean? How do you know him?’
‘Look past the messy hair, and the tears and the drool. Look at the face. He’s the man from the Thorn Tree Café; he’s been following us halfway across Africa.’
Sam studied the man’s face. It took just a moment to realise Helen was right. ‘You’re spot on. Great call,’ he said. ‘So, now maybe we’ll find out why we’ve picked up a travelling companion. One thing’s for sure, he’s not on Ro Su-Ann’s payroll. He’s not made of the right stuff.’
‘I think we’d better call the police now, don’t you?’ said Jeanie. Like a ship’s sail catching a sudden breeze, she was starting to billow back into her confident colonial matron mode.
‘Yes, but perhaps we should wait a little while,’ said Sam. ‘This one’s been following us, and I’d like to ask him one or two questions.’
The man looked anxiously from one to the other. He shook his head and was starting to speak when he suddenly dissolved into nervous tears and an incoherent stutter while staring at the window.
Helen looked over to the patio door. Pressed so close against the glass that its proximity overcame the mirroring effect of the glass was a ridgeback. As she looked, it was joined by another. ‘Sam,’ said Helen, as a third dog arrived and sat silently, staring through the glass. ‘They’re back.’
Everyone was staring in horror as more dogs arrived. The pack sat in silence staring back at them through the glass.
A little above the line of dogs, the room’s reflection vanished from the glass as a face appeared. It was forced unwillingly against the glass and a couple of the dogs looked up towards the face and growled. It was a frightened face.
Then two other faces appeared, and a huge hand rapped on the glass door.
‘It’s Mauwled, and Joseph too,’ said Jeanie. ‘Thank God they’re safe, the dogs too.’ She threw a look at Sam. He wasn’t quite sure what it conveyed but suspected there was something of a reprimand in it. ‘Open the door then, let them in.’
Val hurried to open the glass door. Mauwled thrust his prisoner through the open doorway and down onto the floor. He stepped in and was closely followed by Joseph, who slid the glass door shut behind him. The dogs sat in silence, watching their master through the glass.
Helen and Sam recognised the second man, who was now sprawled on the floor. He was the driver of the
little silver car who had become so flustered when they had hurried past it in Kimathi Street only the day before.
Jeanie stepped across the room to Mauwled and Joseph. ‘Thank God you’re safe. Is everyone else all right? The children, your wife?’ She squeezed Mauwled’s upper arm, at once happy and relieved. Then she turned to Joseph and gave him a full-blown hug. Sam stretched out and once again relieved Jeanie of the revolver, easing it from one of her hands that had arced round to embrace Joseph’s neck. The crisis over, this was not a moment to risk accidental gunshot wounds.
‘They’re all fine, Jeanie, everyone’s fine. I caught him outside the gates. His friend had climbed in.’ Joseph threw the injured man a look of disdain. ‘He’s a lucky man, the dogs wanted him.’
‘Yes, he is. Now the question is, what are we to do?’ said Jeanie.
‘I think we’d agreed I’d ask some questions, and we can be guided by the answers. Half an hour’s delay won’t matter to the police and these two are in no fit state to cause us any more bother.’
‘Agreed,’ said Jeanie. ‘Joseph, go see if Mama Grace has any meat in the fridge, your boys deserve a treat tonight.’ She glowered at the injured man. ‘Though I doubt it could taste as good as that.’
Sam nodded an acknowledgement to Joseph, rested his hand on the man’s shoulder, and grinned at him. ‘Thank you, Joseph. Your capturing this man will be very helpful, and I’m impressed by your dogs. Glad we’re on the same side.’
Joseph smiled back and allowed Sam’s hand to slide down his arm where their hands met to link and shake in a full greeting. ‘It’s my job, sir.’
‘Call me Sam.’
Joseph nodded, gave Jeanie a broad smile and accompanied Val to the kitchen and Mama Grace’s fridge, from where a low buzz of chatter rose to reach back to the lounge.
‘Right,’ said Sam, ‘let’s get down to business.’ He stood over the driver.
The captured driver was eyeing Sam nervously; he could see the distress of his companion, the damage done to his leg and knew the dogs were still around. Sam’s revolver was threatening too.
‘Please, don’t hurt us. We are your friends,’ said the driver.
‘Oh? Perhaps you’d better explain why you’re breaking in during the middle of the night then,’ said Sam.
‘Yes, yes. I will explain. We have been watching over you.’
Sam arched an eyebrow. ‘Really? Guardian angels? Why would you do that?’
‘Because the bishop instructed us. He was concerned that Reverend Johnson did not come to harm.’
For a moment Helen was shocked, exchanged glances with Sam, then she took a sip of wine, needing to cover the involuntary smile that had crossed her face. She had seen these two in action, they were not guardian material. She took another sip of wine as the smile returned.
‘Explain,’ said Sam in his calm tone. ‘Why would the bishop think Helen needed watching over?’
‘I don’t know exactly. We’re only juniors; we know nothing. We only came out of training seminary last year. The bishop said we were to watch and keep him informed of your progress. Where you were, what you did, who you spoke to.’ The man’s voice had a pleading tone. He was frightened and clearly had not been trained for the role he was fulfilling.
Helen looked as Sam. ‘What do you think? If it were true, why would we be followed like this? Can it be anything to do with your problem?’
‘I doubt it; these boys are a thousand miles from Ro Soo-Ann.’
‘So, you’re priests?’ said Helen.
‘Yes, we are on Bishop Ignatius’ staff. All I know is we were to watch over you and report.’
‘Right, two questions,’ said Sam. ‘One, why would the bishop want Helen watched? And two, if you were meant to be watching why did you and your friend end up breaking in and on the wrong end of Joseph’s guard dogs?’
‘You didn’t go to a hotel when you arrived in Arusha. We followed you here to this private compound. The bishop didn’t understand why. When you didn’t come out again he told us to make sure you had not been tricked here and taken prisoner.’
‘Okay, so again, why?’ said Sam.
‘We don’t know. It is not our place to question him. He is second only to the patriarch of our Church. He is the patriarch’s right hand.’
Helen knelt down beside the young priest and proffered a glass of water. He took it enthusiastically as she held a second glass out to the injured priest.
‘So, you must be in touch with your bishop. You can ask him, can’t you?’ Sam waited while the man took a draught of water.
‘Yes, we can speak with him, by telephone. But it is not our place to challenge our leader’s intentions.’
‘Even if it ends in your friend getting his leg half chewed off?’
‘Even anything.’
‘Here’s a suggestion,’ said Helen. ‘Why doesn’t he speak with me?’
The injured priest moaned a little and the other squeezed his hand before looking back to Helen. ‘That is what my bishop wanted. He asked that you wait for him, but you refused.’
‘No, I didn’t refuse. I just said I couldn’t hang around in Addis Ababa waiting for him; we had business to attend to in Nairobi. Remember he was going away too.’ Helen fell silent for a moment. ‘Hold on, he said he was going to a conference in Arusha. Is he still here? Now?’
‘Yes, of course. We met with his assistant earlier this evening.’
Helen straightened up and looked across at Sam. ‘Well, I reckon there’s a bishop of the Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church who’s got a lot of explaining to do. Fancy attending a church conference tomorrow?’
The young priests were only too willing to telephone their bishop. He in turn was delighted that Helen now wanted to speak with him and had his juniors convey the offer of an appointment at the conference building next morning. Then Joseph held the dogs back as Mauwled escorted the two priests back to their car.
At last, the lounge was quiet. Jeanie poured herself a large G and T and put it on the coffee table. Then, while letting out a great sigh, she slumped down beside Helen. ‘Well that was unexpected,’ she said. Helen let the understatement pass.
‘I think I need one of these now,’ said Jeanie. She leant forward over the coffee table and pulled a silvered box towards her. Opening it, she took out a lighter and selected a cheroot. She rolled the slender cigar between finger and thumb for a moment and looked longingly at it. ‘Would you like one?’ she said.
Helen pursed her lips for a moment. ‘You know, I think I’ll join you,’ she said stretching out to take one.
Jeanie flicked the lighter and both women lit their slim cigars, then relaxed back into the sofa, drinks in hand.
12.
Saturday, 26th October - AM
Mauwled swung the orange Land Rover into the side of the road and came to an abrupt halt directly outside the Arusha International Conference Centre. Facility attendants looked at him disapprovingly, pointing in the direction of the parking spaces provided. Mauwled waved to them with a cheery smile and then simply ignored their directions.
‘Here we are,’ he said, looking out at the impressive white building directly in front of them.
Helen surveyed it and then turned to Sam who was in the rear seat. ‘I’ll go in then,’ she said.
‘Are you sure you don’t want me to come?’
‘No, I’ll be fine. You go with Mauwled to make your link up with the university; your work is way more pressing than mine is right now. Anyway, you saw the bishop at the airport in Addis; he’s not exactly a threat …’
‘Here’s your man,’ said Mauwled, pointing towards the open doors of the conference centre.
Helen turned to look and spotted the driver priest of the previous evening hurrying towards the Land Rover. She turned back to Sam. ‘His sidekicks are hardly a threat either.’
Sam gave a little laugh. He couldn’t argue with that. ‘Okay, but I won’t be far away, and I’ll only need a short time with Pr
ofessor Malangwa. Either that or I’ll just leave a message for him. Then we’ll come straight back, say one hour maximum. I’ll wait for you just through those doors in the reception area.’
‘Great; I’ll see you in a while. And Sam, don’t fuss.’
His hand reached forward and gently squeezed her shoulder. ‘I know, but believe me, of all the bad guys we’ve had to face in the past, Ro takes the biscuit.’
‘Right, he must be pretty bad then! But whatever this is, it will have nothing to do with Ro Su-Ann. I’ll speak with the bishop, see what he wants and finish it off for good this morning, so we can focus on finding Bob Prentice.’ She smiled, turned, opened the door and slipped out, waving towards the approaching priest.
• • •
‘This way, please,’ said the driver priest, waving her inside and towards a row of alcove sections that led off from the far side of the reception area. She could see each alcove was equipped the same, fitted with a low table in the middle and three sofas ranged around it, their backs to the walls of the alcove. The fourth wall was glass with a door opening into the foyer. ‘The Bishop has reserved a meeting space, so you can talk with him.’
She knew which alcove to head towards; standing outside the glass door was a sore-footed priest. Since she had last seen him, his lower leg looked like it had been treated properly in hospital and was now encased in a plastic moonboot to support the ankle she had crushed between door and frame. She hoped it was just soft tissue damage and he hadn’t fractured any bones.
‘Good morning, how’s the leg?’ she said, approaching the man. He bowed his head ever so slightly.
‘Good morning, Miss Johnson. My leg will be fine, thank you. Only, I can’t run for a week or two.’ He gave a wry smile and pulled open the glass door. ‘Please do come in and sit. You will see iced water is provided and coffee too. Let me pour you a drink.’
‘No, I’ll be fine thanks, but where’s Bishop Ignatius?’
‘My colleague has gone to announce your arrival. I’m sure the bishop will be along directly.’
