‘Why would he come here?’
It was a good question. ‘I guess he felt he would have more influence if he presented the evidence in person. Who would he have to speak to?’
‘The minister, the police, National Parks. The top people are all likely to be in Pretoria.’ He paused. ‘I’m surprised you didn’t join him there.’
Crys didn’t feel like telling him that Nigel had brushed her off because she was no longer useful to him. Because she’d be in the way…
‘I have to be where the action will be,’ she said instead. ‘I’m staying at the airport so I can make an early start tomorrow – once I’ve decided where to go, that is. And I need to speak to Colonel Mabula to find out if he’s learned anything about Michael.’
There was silence from Johannes’s end. Cry wanted to reach through the phone and shake him.
‘Are there any other possible targets?’ she asked. ‘Tshukudu, for example? Private stashes of horns that would be worth attacking?’
‘I don’t think so,’ he said cautiously. ‘We keep our horns in a bank vault in Phalaborwa. Whenever we have a few, we either take them there or have an armed courier do it for us. Most of the farmers do that, so there aren’t many horns at the farms. It wouldn’t be worth the effort or risk going after them.’
‘Then I have to be in Kruger,’ she said. ‘I just have to decide where. Can you help me find out where these stores are?’
Johannes scoffed. ‘Are you joking? No one’s going to tell you that, Crys. People don’t just go and visit them. And anyway, if there is an attack, it will probably be late at night.’
For a moment, she wondered if he did know, but wasn’t telling her.
‘So, how would the attackers get there?’ she asked.
‘If they know where to go, it wouldn’t be too hard. They could just check in as day visitors and then hide out somewhere. Then late at night they’d hit the stockpiles, blow them open or whatever it takes.’
‘How would they get away?’
‘Fly a plane into an old bush airstrip. Or maybe a helicopter. But Kruger’s huge, Crys, and it borders Mozambique. Once they’re out of South Africa, you haven’t a snowball’s chance in hell of catching them.’
She rubbed her forehead as she mulled that over, wishing she wasn’t so tired. She seemed to be jet-lagged the whole time.
‘At least one of the stores will be near Skukuza camp, won’t it?’ she asked. ‘That’s where the park headquarters is, right?’
‘Yes, I guess that makes sense.’
‘Would your father know? Or one of your friends in Kruger, like that Hennie van Zyl guy from the anti-poaching squad?’
‘I can ask, but nobody’s going to tell me anything.’ Johannes sounded reluctant. She didn’t want to push him too hard, but he was really her only chance. And she’d come so far…
‘Look, Johannes, it’s not just for my story. I’m pretty sure now that these people are behind Michael’s disappearance. I’m worried that if I’m right, they need to keep him alive until this hit. Maybe they need him to be involved somehow. After that, who knows?’
‘How does that figure?’
‘He said he was onto something big. And I know that he was looking for the Portuguese men. It can’t be a coincidence. He was following the same trail I have, just from a different starting point.’
‘So, you think he found the Portuguese smugglers? And they’re holding him?’
‘Yes. Or they found him…’ She hesitated. She hated to make this personal, but felt she had no other option. ‘Please ask your contacts, and phone or text me if you find something useful. Will you do that? For me?’
It took him so long to reply, she thought he’d hung up.
‘Okay, okay,’ he mumbled eventually. ‘But don’t get your hopes up.’
Crys paced around the room. Her conversation with Johannes was useful – it had focused her thoughts and convinced her of what she’d already suspected – but she still didn’t have any details.
Her next priority was to check with Mabula to see if he’d discovered anything about Michael. She was beginning to lose hope, though. She was nervous now that each call might be the one that would bring the final bad news. She took a deep breath and dialled his number. There was no answer, and she was forwarded to his answering machine: This is Colonel Mabula. Please leave a message at the tone. Thank you.
‘Colonel Mabula, this is Crys Nguyen. Do you have any news? Please call me urgently. I have some important information.’
She hung up, wondering what Mabula would do with her information. Would he use it for good or for bad? Only time would tell.
In any case, she had to decide quickly where she was going the next morning, so she jumped on the internet and browsed, hoping to find some hint that would set her on the right trail.
She found no speculation about any unusual poaching activity in Kruger or on any of the surrounding game farms. There were a few reports of a rhino or two being poached in different parts of the country, but no indication of anything big coming up.
So, without any added information, Skukuza it would have to be.
She opened the South African Airways website and tried to reserve the direct flight to Skukuza for the following morning. But it was fully booked. She tried the early-afternoon flight instead and found it was fully booked as well.
Damn! Kruger must be a popular destination.
However, there were flights available to Nelspruit, just outside Kruger and a short drive from Skukuza, so that was a possibility for her. She’d need a car in Kruger anyway.
Next, she checked the National Parks website to see what accommodation was available. There was nothing in Skukuza, not even campsites, nor at any other camps in the park. In desperation, she tried to see whether day passes were available. They weren’t. Again, all sold out.
Crys leaned back from her computer. What was going on? It was highly unlikely that every bed and campsite in a park the size of New Jersey could be sold out.
Maybe Nigel had convinced the South African authorities that there was a real threat against their stockpiles. It would make sense to close the park down as much as they could. They certainly wouldn’t want tourists caught in any crossfire.
But it seemed that she was locked out of the park too.
With nothing else to do, she drew a bath and settled in to soak and think through her options. None of them were really appealing, but eventually she decided going to Phalaborwa was the best of a bad bunch. At least from there she could try to talk her way into Kruger and, if that failed, go up to Tshukudu and see if Johannes and Anton could help.
When she returned to the internet, she reserved a seat on the 11:45 flight to Phalaborwa – there was no trouble with availability there, at least. It would arrive just before one o’clock in the afternoon.
She called Johannes again.
‘There’s definitely something going on,’ she told him. ‘All accommodation and all day passes for Kruger are sold out for the whole weekend.’
‘That’s impossible! They never run out over the whole park.’
‘That’s what I thought. Nigel Wood must have been able to persuade the right people that the threat is real, or, at least, a strong possibility. But they wouldn’t want to make it public, so they’re just saying everything is fully booked. It’s a clever strategy if they want to keep people away.’
‘Not you though, I’m guessing…’
She couldn’t help smiling. ‘Am I that obvious? You’re right, I really need you to help me get into the park. This is my story. I can’t lose out on it.’
‘Crys, I’ll make some calls in the morning, but as I said before, don’t get your hopes up. If they’ve decided no one’s going in, they mean it.’
‘I’m going to fly to Phalaborwa, then make a decision what to do when I get there. If I can get into Kruger, I’ll go. Otherwise, is it okay for me to come up to Tshukudu?’
‘Of course. You’re always welcome here. Let�
��s talk before you check in. Around ten thirty or so.’
What was Nigel up to in Pretoria?
Crys was angry that he wasn’t sharing information with her. She’d done all the work to get them to this point. She’d even risked her life – more than once. The more she thought about it, the more furious she became.
Who did he think he was? He couldn’t just cut her out like that and take the credit for what she’d done.
But if she wanted to know what was happening in Pretoria, there was only one way to deal with the situation. She had to swallow her pride and call him.
But there was no reply. Her call was forwarded to Rhino International’s answering machine in Geneva. She left a message asking that Nigel call her in South Africa as soon as possible.
With no options left, she decided to call it a day. She slipped into bed, turned out the light, and was asleep almost immediately.
Chapter 32
As the small prop jet came in to land at Phalaborwa, she was surprised to find that she was excited to be back – even after everything that had happened to her there.
It had to be the Africa sickness. The one that crept under your skin when you visited the continent for the first time, then itched until you went back again. And every visit made the itch more intense.
Someone had told her that story many years ago, but she thought it was just enthusiasm and never believed it. Now she had to admit that she did, because just ten days ago all she wanted was to get out of this country.
Johannes was there to meet her and suggested they have a snack at the small airport café.
‘Okay, I’ve been doing all I can – I’ve called everyone I know,’ he said. ‘No one is willing to let you into the park. They all think it’s dangerous, and that you’d probably get in the way. A couple said they’d be willing to talk to you afterwards – if anything does happen. Most people seem to think it’s probably a false alarm though.’
Crys frowned, feeling a wave of something between frustration and despair. ‘Thanks, Johannes. I know it’s not your fault. But I’m a reporter. I’ve gone through hell for this and have provided information that could be really important. And now I’m being shut out.’
Johannes shrugged. ‘I can’t do anything more. I would if I could. You know that, I hope.’
She nodded. ‘Well, take me to the park gate. Please. I’ll try to talk my way in.’
‘If you want. But you won’t get in. They’re only letting in people with legitimate, prior reservations, and I’m told they’re checking the IDs of everyone in each vehicle. You’d be turned back in an instant. You’re better off coming to Tshukudu. Next week you’ll be able to talk to people in the park, as well as the police.’
Crys felt helpless. Slowly the realisation hit her that, in spite of everything, she wasn’t going to Kruger. She simply had to accept it.
‘Okay,’ she said with a sigh. ‘Let’s go.’
As they drove to Tshukudu, Crys asked Johannes if he’d heard anything from Mabula while she was overseas.
‘Not Mabula himself,’ he replied, keeping a sharp lookout for potholes, ‘but one of his detectives visited Tshukudu asking about you. And he kept asking about money they insisted was on the plane. Of course, I didn’t know anything about any money, but he gave poor old Bongani a hard time.’
‘Mabula kept pushing me on that one too. And the Portuguese also believed there was money on the plane and that I’d stolen it. To say nothing of the gang in Vietnam.’
‘The detective asked a whole lot more questions about Michael Davidson, too. It was strange. Apparently, he’d been looking for the Portuguese people, trying to meet up with them. I suppose he wanted to interview them.’ Johannes shook his head. ‘I’d go to a lot of trouble to avoid them myself.’
He turned off the main road onto the dirt track leading to Tshukudu.
‘My father was really angry that the detective had come to Tshukudu at all. One minute, he accused him of being on the payroll of the poachers. The next, the man was a corrupt policeman who had stolen the missing money himself. He was upset about the story of the Portuguese too – asking why the detective thought we’d know about it. Frankly, I didn’t understand what Dad was on about since we didn’t know anything about it at all. He’s getting crankier the older he gets…’
They drove in silence for a while, but Johannes was frowning. Clearly, he was struggling with something.
‘Between you and me, Crys,’ he said finally, ‘the truth is my father’s having problems. We’re having problems. That’s what’s making him cranky. The economy in South Africa is tanking. Dad’s businesses are taking a pounding. We’re sitting on a fortune of rhino horn we can’t sell – thanks to CITES and your NGO friends – and we’re running out of cash. It’s got to the point where we may have to sell Tshukudu, and there are some very shady characters ready to buy it just for the rhinos, so they can sell hunting contracts to their Vietnamese clients. No one else is interested.’
‘No…’ Crys was shocked. She’d realised that the rhino farm was a passion rather than a business, but she’d thought Anton was so wealthy that nothing could really affect them.
Johannes glanced at her face. ‘Look,’ he added hastily, apparently deciding he’d said too much, ‘I’m sorry I mentioned it. It’s not your problem. It’s all off the record, right?’
‘Of course.’
‘You promise you won’t mention that I said anything to you? You won’t write it in your article?’ He looked over at her anxiously.
‘I promise.’
As they approached Tshukudu, Crys realised she hadn’t asked Johannes about Bongani. She felt a stab of guilt. They’d been through a lot together.
‘I assume Bongani’s gone to Kruger with the anti-poaching unit,’ she said.
Johannes shook his head. ‘They wanted him, and he was willing to go, but I need him at the farm at the moment. You’ll see him when we get there.’
Crys wondered whether he’d gone back to where they’d left the money.
Was it still buried, or did he help himself to it? she wondered. At that moment, she really didn’t care.
Just as they drove through the Tshukudu gate, Crys’s phone rang. A glance told her it was Mabula.
‘Colonel Mabula. Thank you for calling back.’
‘Where are you?’ he snapped without greeting her.
‘Back in South Africa. I arrived back from Vietnam yesterday afternoon. Do you have any news of Michael?’
‘Not directly. But we think we’re getting very close to the Portuguese gang now. And I’ll bet that means we’re close to Davidson too. I can’t say more than that right now, but I’m optimistic. I’ll let you know as soon as something breaks.’
Crys sighed. It would have been wonderful if Michael had been safe. Now he was still caught up in whatever Pockface was planning on Sunday. And she still didn’t know where Mabula stood in all this.
‘That does sound hopeful. I’ll certainly be thrilled when those thugs are behind bars.’ She paused. ‘I do have some information that you need to know.’
‘About the thing that’s supposed to happen tomorrow, I suppose?’
‘Yes. How did you know?’
‘The head of a Swiss-based NGO has been whipping up the authorities—’
‘Nigel Wood?’
‘Yes. Apparently, they’re convinced he’s onto something. I guessed you must be the reporter he said had helped him. I should have known you’d be sticking your nose in there too.’ He sounded exasperated.
‘I did some snooping around for him when I was in Ho Chi Minh City. He had some information that seemed to fit what I’d found out here – the stuff I told you I’d picked up from the Portuguese who kidnapped me.’
‘Yes, but he’s got more than that apparently. Enough to get the deputy minister excited. He’s really bashed a wasp nest.’
Damn Nigel. He must have known that when she phoned him in Geneva.
She wondered what the additional i
nformation was. Apparently, it was important enough to convince the authorities that Kruger was the target.
‘Where are you right now?’ Mabula asked.
‘Just arriving at Tshukudu.’
‘I want you to stay there. I still need to resolve the issue of the money.’
‘Colonel, I’ve told you—’
‘I know what you told me,’ he interrupted, raising his voice. ‘If Johannes Malan is with you, please put him on the line.’
She handed the phone to Johannes.
He listened to what Mabula had to say. ‘Yes,’ he said and listened again. ‘Yes. Yes. I will.’
He hung up and gave Crys her phone back.
‘What was that all about?’ she asked.
‘He just wants me to keep you out of any more trouble.’
‘And are you going to?’ she asked, challenging him to say he would.
He shook his head and gave a resigned smile. ‘As if I could.’
She laughed, and after a moment she asked, ‘Do you trust him – Mabula?’
Johannes shrugged. ‘You never know who to trust these days.’
When they arrived at the house, Johannes pointed out which chalet Crys was to use, then went off about his business.
She settled in, feeling strangely at home. Perhaps her case of Africa sickness was severe, she thought.
Once she’d unpacked, she sat on the bed and tried to reach Nigel again. This time she reached his assistant in Geneva, who told her that Nigel was not contactable in South Africa; he’d left Pretoria, but he planned to check in every day. Crys asked him to leave Nigel a message to call her, that it was very urgent.
As she disconnected, there was a light knock at the door, and she heard Bongani’s voice say, ‘Crys, can I talk to you?’
She jumped up and pulled open the door. ‘Bongani! I’m so glad to see you.’ She gave him a big hug – something very unusual for her. She even surprised herself. And she certainly surprised Bongani. He wasn’t sure whether to reciprocate. His hands touched her back only very briefly.
Dead of Night Page 27
