Dying to Live

by Michael Stanley

  “Do you export any plants that are found in Botswana?”

  Gampone jumped to his feet. “Something’s going on that you’re not telling me about! Why are you asking me about things that have nothing to do with the break-in?”

  “Rra Gampone, please sit down. We’ll tell you what’s going on.” Kubu pointed to the seat Gampone had left. “Please sit down.”

  Reluctantly, Gampone slumped back in his chair.

  “Samantha, tell him.”

  * * *

  FOR THE NEXT few minutes, Samantha related the story of Ramala’s disappearance, the break-in at Gampone’s garage, and the discovery of the shallow grave. She didn’t include the fact that the grave was empty.

  “Ramala?” exclaimed Gampone. “Kgosi Ramala, the witch doctor?”

  Samantha nodded.

  Gampone shook his head. “I know the man.”

  “We know that,” Kubu said. “Your name was in his appointment book.”

  “You think I’m involved in his murder?” Gampone fumed. “That’s why I’m here, isn’t it? It’s nothing to do with the break-in.”

  “We don’t think you’re involved,” Kubu said. “All we’re doing is trying to find out what happened at your home.” He took a sip of his tea. “I’m curious,” he continued. “What were you seeing Ramala about?”

  “Every healthy man wants to live longer, Assistant Superintendent. The earth is such an interesting place; I’d like to live forever, if my body and brain held out. Wouldn’t you?”

  “Not really,” Kubu replied. “But what makes you think that Ramala’s muti works?”

  “I’ve no idea whether it works, but as long as it doesn’t kill me, why not try it? And if it does work…” His voice trailed off.

  Kubu stared at Gampone for a few moments.

  “We recently received some information,” Kubu continued, “that leads us to believe that people outside the country are trying to get their hands on some plants…”

  Gampone straightened up in his chair. “Some plants? What sort of plants?”

  “As I’m sure you know, Botswana is home to many plants, such as hoodia, that have been used by Bushmen for hundreds of years for a variety of purposes.”

  “But the Bushmen get royalties when it’s used overseas.”

  “True, but some people could make a lot of money using it illegally.”

  “Come on, Assistant Superintendent. It’s not really that valuable. What other plants are you interested in?”

  Kubu hesitated, then changed tack. “Rra Gampone, please let us know if anything is missing from your home.” He handed over his card. “Also, if anything else occurs to you, please let us know.”

  He stood up. “Thank you for coming in. Detective Khama will accompany you home.”

  “I’m quite capable of finding my own way home. Thank you.”

  “I’m sure that’s true, but I’d like Detective Khama to be with you when you check whether anything is missing.”

  Gampone didn’t look pleased. “I suppose I have no option, then.” He turned to Samantha. “Let’s go. The sooner this is over with, the better.”

  CHAPTER 30

  Samantha drove Gampone home, with the constable following in Gampone’s car. When they reached his house, Samantha first took him to the garage.

  “It looks as though someone broke in here,” she said. “One of the back windows is broken. Please take a look and see if anything is missing.”

  Gampone took a few minutes looking around, then turned to Samantha. “As far as I can remember, everything is here.”

  “Why would anyone break in and not take anything?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “Maybe kids being kids. How did you know something had happened?”

  Samantha responded without hesitation. “We received an anonymous tip-off.”

  “What did they say?”

  “I don’t know the exact words because it went through to reception. We sent a car out right away, and they found this. If you’re sure nothing’s missing, let’s go inside the house.”

  * * *

  FOR THE NEXT half hour or so, Gampone walked through each room in the house, carefully checking whether anything was missing. Eventually, he stopped. “That’s it,” he said. “I don’t think anything is missing. How did they get in?”

  “We don’t know they did get in, but we have to assume they did.”

  “You mean we’ve been wasting our time?”

  “No. Knowing that nothing is missing is important. You’re sure now?”

  He nodded.

  They walked to the front door and shook hands.

  “Thank you for your time, Rra Gampone. I’m sure you’re ready for a shower and a long sleep.”

  “I can’t wait.”

  She turned to leave, then turned back.

  “Do you have a safe?”

  He stared at her without saying anything.

  “Rra Gampone, I asked if you have a safe.”

  “Um, yes. It’s in my bedroom upstairs. I checked it when I looked through the cupboard. It was locked. They couldn’t have found it. And even if they did, they couldn’t open it. It’s a very good one.”

  “Let’s go and check, just in case.” She walked back into the house.

  “It’s a waste of time, Detective. They couldn’t have opened it.”

  “There are some very sophisticated thieves these days, rra, with electronic apparatus to help them break into safes. It’ll only take a minute.”

  “Detective, believe me. There’s nothing missing.”

  “Rra, we have to check. This is my job.”

  “No, Detective. It is a private safe. I know nothing is missing, so there’s no need to open it. Thank you and good-bye.” He walked outside.

  Samantha followed him, pulling the search warrant from her pocket. She handed it to him.

  “Rra, this is a valid search warrant. You are required to open the safe for me.”

  She turned to the constable, who was waiting patiently outside. “Constable, please come here. I want you to be with me when the rra opens his safe.” The constable walked inside.

  “Detective Khama,” Gampone said, “I want to talk to my attorney before I open the safe.”

  Samantha wasn’t sure what to do, so she told Gampone to stay where he was while she moved away to phone Kubu.

  Kubu listened carefully, then said, “Arrest Gampone for obstructing the search warrant, and handcuff him. Then lock up the house and bring him back here. And bring the constable as well, just in case Gampone thinks of causing any trouble. I’ll organize another constable to watch the house tonight.” He paused. “I’m looking forward to another conversation with our Rra Gampone.”

  * * *

  “WHY DO YOU want to look in my safe?” Gampone said as he walked into the interrogation room.

  “For two reasons, Rra Gampone,” Kubu replied. “First, to make sure nothing was taken when your home was broken into. And second, we’re investigating the possible homicide of Kgosi Ramala on your property. We have to check everything. I believe you want to talk to your attorney?”

  Gampone nodded. “I’d like to call him. If he’s free, he can come here.”

  Kubu thought for a moment. “Okay,” he said. “Samantha, please get Rra Gampone an outside line. Then tell reception to expect a visitor.”

  He turned to Gampone. “Who’s your lawyer?”

  “Jeffrey Davidson.”

  “Jeffrey Davidson?” Kubu repeated in surprise. “Nothing but the best for you, I see. Samantha, tell reception that a Jeffrey Davidson will be coming to see Rra Gampone. No one else is to see him without my permission.”

  Samantha nodded as Kubu left. Then she picked up the handset, put in her code for an outside line, and walked out.

  * * *

  ABOUT AN HOUR and a half later, Kubu’s phone rang. It was reception.

  “Assistant Superintendent, Mr. Davidson and the other man want to speak to you and Director Mabaku. They say it
’s very important.”

  Kubu frowned. He had no idea what was going on.

  “I’ll see if the director is available,” he said. “I’ll let them know myself.”

  He hung up, then dialed the director’s assistant. “Miriam, is the director free?”

  “Do you want to see him or talk to him on the phone?” she asked.

  “The phone is fine.”

  She told him to hold on while she checked. Half a minute later Mabaku came on the line.

  “Yes?” he asked.

  “I hate to interrupt your afternoon, Director, but something most unusual has come up. Is there any chance you could come to the conference room?”

  “Now?”

  “Yes, Director. If possible.”

  “What’s it about?”

  “That’s it, Director. I’m not sure. We brought in that Rra Gampone for questioning when he arrived from overseas this morning—he owns the house where we think Kgosi Ramala was murdered. Samantha took him back to his home, but he refused to open his safe for her, even though we have a search warrant. He said he wanted to see his lawyer. Here, at CID headquarters. Now he wants to see you and me.”

  There was a silence. Then Mabaku spoke. “What do you think?”

  “I think so, Director. You can always leave if it’s a waste of time. But I doubt it is.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “You know Jeffrey Davidson, the defense attorney, don’t you? Well, he’s the one with Gampone.”

  * * *

  “GOOD AFTERNOON, DAVIDSON,” Mabaku growled as he walked into the conference room with Kubu and Samantha. “Good afternoon.” He nodded at Gampone. “This had better be good. I’m a busy man.”

  “Good afternoon, Director,” Davidson responded. “Thank you for coming. I know it’s on short notice. We ask that you treat what you hear now with the greatest circumspection. Of course, we understand your responsibilities and chain of command, but I think you’ll find what Jonah has to say quite intriguing.” He nodded at Gampone, who cleared his throat, then spoke.

  “First, I apologize for my behavior when you brought me here this morning and for what happened at my home. I was trying to prevent myself being in the situation I now find myself in. To put it bluntly, my import/export business is a cover for my real job, which is working for CITES, in Geneva. CITES stands for the Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species of Wild Fauna and Flora. It’s the international oversight agency for endangered species.”

  “So, what you’re really doing here in Botswana is tracking the movement of illegal substances, such as elephant tusk? And you haven’t alerted the proper Botswana authorities what you’re up to?” Kubu could see Mabaku’s temper rising. Of all the people he knew, Mabaku was the greatest stickler for protocol.

  Gampone nodded. “We—my colleagues and I—felt that it was a risk to do so, because we believe that some of your high-up officials—politicians of the highest rank—may be involved. And maybe even some of your superiors in the police.” He paused. “If they got wind of what we were doing, they’d close down all their operations here in Gaborone and move them elsewhere. And we’d have nothing.”

  Kubu glanced at Mabaku, whose fists were clenched. Kubu wondered how he was going to react.

  After what seemed a very long silence, Mabaku stood up and walked to the window and gazed out on Kgale Hill. Eventually he took a deep breath and returned to his seat.

  “I take it you have illegal substances in your safe and want to preempt being arrested?”

  Gampone nodded. “I have five hundred grams of powdered rhino horn.”

  Nobody said a word.

  After a moment, Gampone continued. “My trip to the Far East was to find buyers for it, and elephant ivory. I was hoping to find out who in Botswana was currently doing the supplying. We know it’s happening, but we don’t know who it is.”

  “Rra Gampone.” Kubu injected himself into the conversation. “There are two separate issues here. You say you’re working for an international agency trying to stop illegal trafficking. We are investigating two murders and a possible third. There is a good chance that our three cases are linked through plants that supposedly extend life or cause the human body to heal perfectly. Is it possible that the people you’re trying to find would be interested in plants, too?”

  “Yes, it’s possible. Biopiracy is a relatively new activity, but the potential profits are enormous.”

  “Do you know anything about two Americans, Brian Ross and Christopher Collins? We think they may also be mixed up in this.”

  Gampone shook his head. “Never heard of them.”

  “And what about a Bushman who lived in the New Xade area, called Heiseb?”

  Gampone shook his head again.

  Another silence fell over the room. Eventually Samantha spoke.

  “Rra Gampone, I’m investigating the murder of Kgosi Ramala, who we believe was murdered on your property. What do you know about that?”

  “All I know is what you told me. I can only assume that they chose my house as a message to me of some sort. A threat. Telling me not to meddle.”

  “Are they—whoever they are—suspicious of you?”

  “They’re suspicious of everyone. The fact I’ve started an export business to the Far East would worry them—that I could be competition. They wouldn’t like that one bit.” He shrugged. “The trip I just made was the first time I’ve made contact with buyers in both Vietnam and China. They’ve probably already heard about it and are warning me to keep off their turf.”

  Again there was a silence. Eventually Mabaku stood up. “Rra Davidson, Rra Gampone, please wait here. You have posed a nasty dilemma. I need to check with CITES that you’re for real, Rra Gampone. If you are, I’ll confer with my colleagues to see if we can untangle the dilemma. If you’re not…” He shook his head. “Samantha, please ask reception to bring some more tea or coffee.” With that he turned and stalked out.

  * * *

  IT WAS NEARLY an hour before Mabaku, Kubu, and Samantha returned to the conference room. After they’d settled down, Mabaku spoke.

  “This is how we are going to proceed. First, you must give us the names of your contacts in Vietnam and China. Second—”

  “But—” Gampone interrupted.

  “No buts. Just listen. If you get killed, we want that information. Second, you will leave here with Detective Khama and open the safe for her. She will take any contents that she thinks pertain to our cases. Understand?”

  There was no reaction from Gampone, but Kubu could see he was angry.

  “Understand?” Mabaku snapped.

  Gampone nodded.

  “Third, if there is rhino horn in the safe, she will confiscate it and make you sign a statement that you were in possession of it.”

  “Director Mabaku—” Davidson started to say.

  “I’ve not finished.” Mabaku’s tone left no room for negotiation. “This is the only way we can both have a chance of accomplishing what we want.” He turned to Gampone. “If the people you want to find have the sort of connections you suspect, they almost certainly know that you’ve been brought in here. They also know that Davidson arrived not long after. If they think we’re collaborating, they’re going to disappear. I want them to see you go back to your home with Detective Khama and see her leave. Hopefully, that will allay any suspicions that you’re involved with us. I’ll also release a press statement about our concerns that your garage was used in Ramala’s abduction and that you’re not a person under suspicion. That should leave you free to continue your work.” He paused. “But there’s a condition.”

  “Which is?” Davidson asked.

  “Gampone will share with me any evidence of wrongdoing by any of our government officials. You can trust me to be discreet. I won’t leave you for the hyenas. But you must understand that the very fabric of the success that is Botswana is threatened by corruption. I won’t let that happen.”

  No one said anyt
hing for a few moments. Then Mabaku continued. “I also make this promise, Rra Gampone. If I find you withholding any useful information from me, I’ll treat you like one of them and do all I can to have you rot in prison.”

  CHAPTER 31

  When Kubu returned to his office after the meeting, he digested what he’d learned over the last couple of days. He was still suspicious of Gampone: Even if he was working for CITES, there was nothing to stop him doing some smuggling on the side. If he was caught, he could always say he was laying a trap, which is exactly what he had said. Still, for the moment Kubu was willing to take him at face value, and that meant he might have people from the Far East to worry about. And although there still seemed to be no connection between the Heiseb and Ramala cases, it was too much of a coincidence that both were apparently connected to longevity. So there could be an Asian link there, too.

  He settled himself at his desk and scrounged in the drawer for a snack. He was delighted to discover a health bar.

  He munched slowly, savoring the honey and nuts, thinking that a cup of tea afterward would be good to take the sweetness away. Perhaps it was the energy reaching his brain, or perhaps he’d given his subconscious the chance it needed, but suddenly he had a thought: the Chinese body. He stopped midchew.

  He dug out his notes and checked the name and number of the person he’d spoken to at customs. He grabbed the phone and dialed the number.

  “Rra Tole? This is Assistant Superintendent Bengu. We spoke on the phone last week about a body being transported out of Botswana.”

  “Yes, dumela, Assistant Superintendent. I do remember. I promised to phone you back if there was another request to transport a body. Is that why you’re calling? There haven’t been any other requests.”

  “No, actually I wanted some further information about the Chinese girl.”

  There was a pause before Tole replied. “I think I told you everything I know.”

  “Would you look up the records? I have a few more questions.”

  “Of course. Please hold on; I’ll need to fetch the file.” There was the sound of the receiver being dropped on the desk. After almost five minutes, the man returned.

  “Assistant Superintendent? Sorry to keep you waiting. I have the file here, but there’s not much in it.”