Dying to Live

by Michael Stanley

  CHAPTER 38

  Samantha was up early on Saturday morning. She had the day off and intended to spend it at the women’s shelter where she volunteered. They were expecting her, so she wasn’t pleased when her phone rang, showing “Work” as the caller.

  “Detective Khama.”

  “Dumela, Samantha. Seleke here. I have a report from a Constable Kirwa. He’s down on the Lobatse road—near the police college—and there’s a body there.”

  Samantha bristled. Detective Sergeant Seleke was not one of her favorite people. She guessed that he’d chosen to phone her to spoil her day off.

  “I’m not on duty, Detective Sergeant. Try Edison.”

  “The constable thinks the man may be the missing witch doctor, and that’s your case. But, of course, if you’re not interested, I’ll see if Edison’s around.”

  At once the women’s shelter was gone from Samantha’s mind. She was excited about the possibility of progress on the Ramala case at last. “Okay, give me the constable’s number.”

  She jotted it down, grudgingly thanked Seleke, and called Kirwa.

  “Dumela, mma. Yes, there’s a body here. It’s not in good shape, and the smell is really bad. It was buried, but not deep. A couple of students from the police college saw some dogs digging in the sand, so they went to take a look. Then they called us. I’m waiting near the body, in case the dogs come back.”

  “What makes you think it’s Ramala?”

  “Mma, I’m not sure. The body is wrapped in a sheet, but the dogs pulled it out enough so I can see the face. It’s cracked and swollen and covered with dirt, but I studied his picture when you sent it out, and I think it could be him. But I’m not sure.”

  Samantha sighed. Maybe it wasn’t Ramala after all, she thought. Still, if the body had been buried in the bush, it probably wasn’t a death from natural causes. It would have to be investigated.

  “Right, Constable. Please tell me where you are, and I’ll come out. In the meantime, don’t touch anything.”

  Next she dialed Kubu’s number, but it went straight to voice mail. That was unusual. Kubu almost always answered his phone. She left a message telling him about the body and asking him to call her. Then she phoned Ian MacGregor and explained the situation to him.

  “I’ll meet you there,” he told her.

  * * *

  THE STENCH WAS indeed awful. Samantha took statements from the two students who’d discovered the body, grateful that Ian was dealing with the corpse. However, after about ten minutes, he beckoned her over. She put on a mask, gloves, and shoe covers and carefully walked over, watching where she trod.

  Ian had carefully brushed the dirt off the face, and she could see it quite clearly now. She’d brought a picture of the witch doctor with her, and they compared it against the remains of the face. Despite the marbling and a bad dog bite that had removed most of one cheek, the resemblance was clear.

  “It’s him,” Ian said after a moment. Samantha nodded, keen to move away from the body, but Ian motioned her closer and lifted one of the arms.

  “Take a look at the hand.”

  Samantha leaned forward and tried to focus through her rising nausea.

  “The fingernails,” Ian prompted.

  “There aren’t any,” Samantha said. “Have they fallen off because of the rotting…?” She swallowed hard.

  Ian shook his head. “Much too soon. From the state of the body, I’d say he’s been dead less than a week, but that can’t be right. I think he was buried near the Gampone house after he was killed, and later moved and reburied here. Decomposition is much slowed if the body is buried.”

  Ian took a close look at the fingers and brushed them carefully with what looked like a paintbrush. “It’s hard to see with all the dirt on the hands, but I’d guess these are premortem wounds.”

  Samantha swallowed again. “You mean someone tore them off?”

  Ian nodded. “Could be. And there seem to be chest wounds too. Probably he was stabbed to death. We need to get him to the morgue for an autopsy. There’s nothing more I can do here.”

  Samantha gratefully backed away.

  “I need to phone Kubu,” she said.

  Ian said nothing, but watched as she dialed. Again the call went to voice mail.

  “Dammit, he’s not answering,” Samantha said.

  “He’s rather busy this morning,” Ian told her. “I’m sure he’ll call you as soon as he can.”

  Samantha looked at him with surprise, but before she could question him, he walked off to supervise moving the body to the waiting ambulance.

  Meanwhile, Zanele had arrived and was getting togged up. She waved Samantha over. “Hello, Samantha. Is it Ramala?”

  Samantha nodded. “I’m pretty sure it is. And Ian thinks he was tortured. Fingernails pulled out. Who knows what else.”

  Zanele grimaced. “Did you find anything around the grave?”

  Samantha shook her head. “I hope you can.”

  “We’ll look, but I’m not optimistic we’ll find anything here. I was talking to the constable. He said the students had to chase off dogs. And one of them admitted that he threw up by the body. I’m not sure he’s cut out for the police.”

  Samantha thought that was a bit harsh, especially as she’d come close to doing the same thing.

  “I’d say our best bet will be with his clothes and the sheet,” Zanele continued. “There might be fibers or hairs from someone else. Something. And where did the sheet come from?”

  “They probably took it from the house.”

  Zanele shook her head. “They didn’t break into the house. Most people don’t keep sheets in their garage.”

  “Of course. Stupid of me,” Samantha said. “Probably they brought it when they came back to move him.”

  “You don’t look so great, Samantha. Did you have anything to eat before you came out?”

  Samantha shook her head. “I’m fine. I just want to look around a bit.”

  Zanele nodded and got to work.

  CHAPTER 39

  Kubu pulled into the parking lot at Princess Marina Hospital at about the same time Samantha arrived at the body. He felt terrible. He’d decided to follow Ian’s advice and had brought with him a glass container the size of a spice jar, filled with a golden-brown liquid with some vegetable matter floating in it.

  “It’s harmless,” Ian had told him. “Grape juice, chopped mint, and dried rosemary. It’ll do the job.”

  As he walked to Nono’s ward, Kubu was worried that a doctor would come in while Nono was drinking the muti.

  I’d feel such a fool, he thought.

  He could just imagine the gossip: Kubu, the modern man, has resorted to muti.

  He pushed open the door and peered inside. Nono was lying with her eyes closed, her face very pale; the only other patient was in a bed at the other end of the room, reading.

  Kubu sat down on the edge of the bed and held Nono’s hand. “How are you feeling today, darling?” he asked quietly.

  Nono’s eyes flickered open. “Daddy?”

  “Yes, my darling. How are you?”

  “About the same as yesterday. I just want to sleep the whole time. Where’s Mommy? And Tumi?”

  “They’re coming a little later.”

  “I want Tumi to be here.”

  “She’ll be here soon. As soon as I leave, I’ll call them and tell them to hurry up.”

  Nono closed her eyes.

  Kubu looked around.

  “Darling, I have some medicine for you to take. Can you sit up for a few minutes?” Kubu put his hand in his pocket and pulled out the small jar. “It tastes nice; I tried it. Just like fruit juice.”

  Nono didn’t move.

  “Please, Nono, darling. Please sit up.”

  Nono’s eyes opened. “I’m tired, Daddy. I want to sleep.”

  “You can sleep as long as you like after you’ve taken the medicine. Please, darling, sit up.”

  Nono stirred and struggled to p
ull herself up the pillow.

  “Here, let me help you.” Kubu leaned over and put his arms under Nono. He gently lifted her so she could sit up.

  He unscrewed the cap and passed the jar to her. “Please drink it up. It will help you get better.”

  Nono hesitated, then took a sip. She frowned.

  “It tastes weird,” she said, pulling a face. She took another sip. “Do I have to drink all of it?”

  Kubu nodded. “Yes, my darling. But only this one time.”

  Just as Nono lifted the jar to her lips, the door opened. Kubu swung around, praying it wasn’t the doctor.

  It was Joy. And Tumi.

  Joy and Kubu stared at each other, not knowing what to say.

  “Daddy, Daddy!” Tumi cried as she rushed forward to hug her father. “I missed you. Where were you last night?”

  Kubu lifted her off the floor and gave her a big kiss on her forehead. “I missed you too.” He put her back on the floor.

  “How are you Nono? I missed you, too,” Tumi said as she ran to Nono’s side and jumped on the bed. She gave her a big hug. “What’s Nono drinking, Daddy?”

  Kubu turned to Joy, still unable to say anything.

  She moved to the other side of the bed, all the time staring at Kubu, eyes red, face stricken. After a few moments, she glanced at Nono.

  “What’s that?” she asked, pointing at the jar.

  “You told me to give her the muti.”

  “That’s muti?”

  Kubu nodded.

  “Can it harm her?”

  “Darling—”

  “What if it makes her worse?”

  “But, you—”

  “I don’t think we can take the chance.”

  She took the jar from Nono and walked over to the basin at the end of the ward. Turning on the water, she poured the contents down the drain and washed out the jar.

  “It smells of mint and something sweet.” She turned up her nose and went back to Nono. “Darling, how are you feeling today?”

  “I’m so tired, Mommy. When will I get better?”

  “The doctor says you will start feeling better any day now.”

  “Can we go and get Nono an ice cream?” Tumi asked.

  “Not today, dear. Maybe tomorrow.”

  Kubu stared at his family, an ache developing in his stomach as Joy ignored him. What have I done to deserve this? he wondered.

  After a few more moments, he turned and walked out.

  CHAPTER 40

  Kubu walked out of the hospital and sat in his car, not noticing the heat. He didn’t know what to do.

  He could stay at Ian’s for another night to make Joy realize she was in the wrong; in reality to punish her, he admitted to himself. But what if she thought he was to blame for the situation? Doing nothing could make things worse.

  On the other hand, he could swallow his pride, go back home, and talk things through, hopefully clearing up the misunderstandings. The risk was that she’d send him away again. That would cut deep.

  The pain in his stomach was much worse now.

  Half an hour later, sweat dripping down his face, he came to a decision. He wasn’t going to sit back and do nothing. That wasn’t who he was. Whatever the risks, he was going to talk to Joy and hash out what had happened. There was no other way.

  He was relieved that he now had a plan, but he was aware of the deep disquiet that lay on his heart. What if…?

  * * *

  KUBU WAITED UNTIL after lunch to drive to his home. He was full of foreboding. How could two people who loved each other so much suddenly be so far apart? he wondered. Maybe he’d misjudged Joy. Maybe she hadn’t felt as deeply about him as he did about her.

  The short drive seemed to take forever.

  When he drove up to the gate, he was pleased that Ilia hadn’t also abandoned him. She came skidding off the veranda, yapping excitedly, and jumping up against the gate. Kubu climbed out of the Land Rover, leaving the door open, and opened the two halves of the gate. Ilia immediately jumped into the car and sat, panting, on the passenger seat.

  Kubu returned to the car, drove in, and parked next to Joy’s car. At least she and Tumi were home.

  He took a deep breath.

  But where was Tumi? She was normally like Ilia, rushing out to welcome him home.

  He walked onto the veranda, Ilia tangled in his feet, and called out as he often did: “Joy, I’m home.”

  He stopped, hoping she would rush out and throw herself into his arms.

  She didn’t.

  He walked inside.

  “Joy?”

  No response.

  “Joy, are you here?”

  The house was silent.

  What if they’ve moved out?

  He couldn’t believe they’d do that, but he wandered around looking for a note. Then he went into the bedroom and opened a closet. Thank God, all her clothes were still there.

  Where were they?

  Suddenly, Ilia started yapping and raced out of the house, and Kubu heard the gate squeaking open. I’ll have to oil that, he thought, as he hurried to the veranda.

  “Daddy, Daddy, we’re home.”

  Kubu’s eyes moistened as he heard Tumi’s voice.

  “I love you, darling,” he said, as Tumi threw herself into his arms.

  “I love you too, Daddy.”

  Kubu looked up as Joy climbed the stairs to the veranda. He put Tumi down and took a deep breath.

  “Hello, darling,” he said quietly. “I love you, too.”

  Joy hesitated, then looked at Kubu.

  “And I love you too,” she said. Then she walked inside.

  CHAPTER 41

  Mabaku called a meeting for Monday midmorning, to allow Ian time to complete the autopsy of the body. The mood was somber. Mabaku saw everything becoming more complicated after the discovery of Ramala’s body; Kubu was brooding that things were still not right between him and Joy and that Nono hadn’t improved; Samantha was thinking about having to break the news to Ramala’s wife; and Ian was sickened by the treatment the man had suffered before he was killed.

  Mabaku opened the meeting and thanked Ian for working over the weekend. The Scotsman shrugged.

  “I wish I could say it’s been a pleasure,” he said. “Pretty grim actually, I’m afraid. Everything I suspected was true. The man was beaten and viciously tortured before he was killed. He had his fingernails pulled out one by one, and there was plenty of premortem bruising. And three of his fingers were broken.”

  No one said anything for a few moments, then Mabaku asked, “How was he killed?”

  “Multiple stab wounds. One went into the heart.”

  “When did he die?” Samantha asked.

  Ian shook his head. “It’s hard to say, after all this time. If we assume that he was buried, the first time, shortly after he was killed, then a window from Saturday to Tuesday works, but it could have been even earlier. Then again, we don’t know how long it was before he was dug up and moved. Being buried—”

  “Why?” Kubu interjected.

  Ian frowned. “Why what?”

  “Why was he moved?”

  “I can’t answer that,” Ian replied.

  Kubu backtracked to let the others catch up with his thoughts. “We’ve talked about the Bushman case and the witch doctor case being connected through the longevity thing. My guess is that Heiseb’s body was stolen not for muti but for further investigation. Maybe in China. We know that a body—or something—was flown to China with false documentation just after the break-in at the mortuary. I wonder if they wanted Ramala’s body for the same reason. Was there any similarity between Ramala’s and Heiseb’s organs?”

  “You mean any parts of him apparently younger than one would expect?” Ian shook his head. “No. I can go into detail if you like, but basically everything was consistent with a man in his midfifties in reasonable shape. If you’re going to tell me he was midseventies or something, I’d have to think again.”

&nbs
p; “Do you know how old he was?” Kubu asked Samantha.

  “I’m not sure. His wife looks midfifties, but that doesn’t prove anything, of course. I’ll find out.”

  “I’ve never bought this long-life story,” Mabaku said, “and it doesn’t apply to Ramala anyway, from what Ian’s telling us. Still, it’s a good question. Why was the body moved?”

  “Is it possible they left something with the body that pointed to them?” Samantha asked. “Or something they realized they wanted, after they’d buried him?”

  Kubu shook his head. “Why would they move the body? They’d just dig it up, take what they wanted, and rebury it. Moving it wasn’t only a very unpleasant job, it was dangerous. They had to carry it up that footpath, probably at night, load it into a car, and drive it somewhere else. And they didn’t plan it well. They chose a spot where it was hard to dig, and the body came to light sooner than they would’ve wanted.”

  “What about the cell phone?” Mabaku asked. “The phone we found in Ramala’s car. Once they realized it was missing, they would also realize that we’d be able to trace them to Gampone’s house.”

  “And from the way they hid the grave there, they obviously didn’t want the body to be discovered,” Samantha added. “So they got there ahead of us and moved it.”

  “But does the timing work?” Kubu asked. “The obvious thing to do when they missed the phone was to go and retrieve it. They abandoned the car at Game City on Monday morning, and we didn’t find it until Wednesday.”

  “Maybe they didn’t discover it was missing right away,” Samantha offered. “Then they would’ve returned to the car and, as soon as they realized we had it, they would’ve moved the body. It could even have been on Friday night.” She frowned, thinking how close they might have been to catching the culprits.

  “It’s possible,” Kubu admitted. “But if they didn’t want the body found, why not take it out into the desert for the hyenas or whatever? Why bury it only ten miles away—and make a bad job of it, at that?”

  “Perhaps they didn’t want us to find it near the house,” Mabaku suggested.

  Kubu thought about that. “But why not?” There was silence for a few moments.