A dead end again. “I can’t sit around forever waiting for some bureaucracy to decide it feels like sending the forms. I need to make arrangements for his body. I need to work on my stories, I need to find his film. I need to…” Tabitha paused to take a breath and realized a dam had broken somewhere within her. She needed to know what had happened. So much for her resolve to charm people like Phillip had. The African woman’s lips were pressed firmly together and her eyes were locked onto the keyboard of her computer.
“I’m sorry.” Tabitha ran a hand through her dark blond hair, scooping it into a ponytail in her hand then flopping it loose again. Deep breaths. Rather than freak out on someone who couldn’t help, Tabitha should try a different tack. “This isn’t a good situation for me. I’m sure not for you either. Is the park director in? Perhaps he could check for me?”
“No, the director is still gone at a conference in Europe. That is why Mpande has to go to the town today.”
“I see.” Tabitha sighed. No help there. “I’d like to go into Nelspruit to get some film developed and to make arrangements for Phillip’s body. I’m not sure if I can do that without a death certificate or something.”
“We can get a copy of the death certificate tomorrow. Go and make the arrangements. It will be good for us to have a location to send him. Once we have the paperwork, we will try to move it along very quickly for you. All right?” Kindness said the right words but she shrugged again. Tabitha realized there was a cultural barrier that would not easily be climbed by one frustrated American in a hurry to deal with a death. An American who wanted answers whichthat didn’t seem to exist.
She trudged back out to the car. Perhaps she could find Daniel and go for a safari drive before evening. She turned the truck away from the tourist camp and into the employee compound. An empty tennis court took center place as she drove into the well-kept grounds. A warthog, tail in the air, darted through the gates of a home as she drove past. Concrete block homes here were more practical, less aesthetic than the rondavels of the tourist camp. The single road curved through the mix of bungalows and dormitories and back to the same entrance. Tabitha spotted Daniel walking up ahead and beeped her horn. He turned and looked over his shoulder. He waved and stepped to the side of the road as she approached. She killed the engine when she stopped and grinned at him.
“I suppose you’re off duty, but I’ve tracked you down.” She remembered his earlier angry tone and searched his face for lingering evidence. He wasn’t as cheerful as usual, but his face held an openness that seemed vulnerable. “Am I bothering you?”
“Oh, no. I am fine. What is going on?”
“I kind of wanted help for a safari ride this afternoon, but if you’re off work, we could go in the morning before I go to Nelspruit.”
“You are going to Nelspruit?” He brightened. “Is it possible that you could give me a lift out of the park to a taxi stand? I have a few days’ holiday and my ride has canceled on me.”
“I can probably take you wherever you need to go. You’re helping me here. It’s the least I can do.”
“God be praised.” Daniel addressed this toward the sky, and smiled. Then he said, “No, if you just take me to the taxi stand that will be enough. You are not leaving already?”
“No. I’ll go into Nelspruit for a day or so and then come back. I’d like to stay at Lower Sabie then. Are you allowed to keep helping me if I’m over there?”
“I’m certain something can be arranged. It’s only an hour or so away.” Daniel smiled. “I heard there were lions near mile marker 19. We may have time to find them before the camp gates close. The sunset light is pretty for pictures.” Tabitha jumped from the truck to allow Daniel behind the wheel. She hopped back in on the other side and loaded film in a camera. He maneuvered them out of the dusty camp to the main road.
“What’s it like living out here?” Tabitha spoke over the whipping of the wind through the open window.
“It’s my job.”
“So, it becomes commonplace like anything else?”
“Yes, I suppose you could say that.” Daniel squinted into the western sun, his high cheekbones seeming to encroach on his eyes.
“Isn’t this a job you wanted?”
“Oh, oh, oh.” Daniel’s deep laugh rode the wind. “Oh, no. I’m very grateful for the job. Don’t mistake me. Oh, oh, oh.” He paused a moment. “In South Africa there are very few jobs, so I am grateful for this, but it is not what I trained for.”
Tabitha liked his good humor. If only she had some of that. “So, what did you train for?”
“Chemistry. I have a degree in chemistry.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“I’m not doubting you.” It was Tabitha’s turn to laugh. “What made you choose that? This seems such an unlikely job for a chemist.” She gestured to the landscape.
“It doesn’t tie in, but perhaps one day something will open up for me in the biology department, though that still isn’t what interested me. I would like to do studies on our botany for medical research.”
“Like pharmaceuticals?”
“Exactly.” He beamed at her like she was a small child who had found a difficult answer.
“How did you come to be interested in pharmacy?”
“It is a long story, but my grandfather was an isangoma.”
“Like a witch doctor, right?”
“Very good. You surprise me.”
“I did some research before I came,” Tabitha said.
“There is more to it than that though. They are spiritual advisors for their people and doctors for the sick. My father became a Christian and married my mother, which was a disgrace to my grandfather. I was made to get an education as a boy. I won scholarships to university. I had to pull myself up by my own boot strings, you see. But the potions my grandfather prescribed and mixed always intrigued me. I would like to study these plants’ medicinal properties.”
A curve in the road turned them due west into the sunshine, and the ribbon of asphalt turned pink and orange before them. Daniel slowed the bakkie, and as he did so a lioness marched into the road, throwing a long shadow their way. Tabitha gasped as the powerful creature looked directly into her eyes. She fumbled for the camera in her lap, getting off several shots. A car approached from the other direction, causing the lioness to put her ears back in a scowl. She crossed the road, giving the vehicles a sneer of ferocious teeth, and proceeded to pee in the bushes next to the road.
Tabitha rolled the window up so her laughter wouldn’t disturb the evening bushveld. “They don’t show that on the nature programs on TV.” Daniel didn’t seem to see the humor in it, but cocked an eyebrow, which made Tabitha laugh harder.
“Sorry, I think it’s all the tension of the past few days making me silly.” She laughed more, but tears filled her eyes when she thought of how she and Uncle Phillip would have laughed. How had this trip turned so tragic?
Chapter 17
“What’s wrong with you?” Pieter asked. “You’re jumpy as an impala.”
“I was followed part of the way, but I lost them.” Mhlongo didn’t meet his eye.
“What?” He muttered something in Dutch under his breath. “Who was it?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t recognize the car, and I didn’t let them get close enough to see who was driving.” Mhlongo clutched his hands around his canvas hat, squeezing it and crushing the brim.
Pieter fumed and stormed, pacing the dusty earth. Finally he turned to face Mhlongo.
“I want you to stay away for a few days. Completely away.”
“What about the certificates?”
“Get someone else. Pay someone if you have to. Don’t take the certificates yourself. Have them dropped off, and I’ll have Johanne fetch them.” The tension between the two men snapped in the air.
“I can do my job,” Mhlongo said quietly.
“Yes, and I’m telling you what I want. Stay away.” Pieter enunciated each syllable ca
refully as if Mhlongo couldn’t hear well.
“What if I get a black rhino for you? How will you know?” His pupils flared black in golden irises when he glanced up at Pieter.
“Are you close?”
Mhlongo shrugged.
“Johanne will check in with you in a few days. Make sure you aren’t followed anymore. We’re close. Don’t foul it up for me.”
The two men set about moving some of the precious cargo of ivory and rare animal skins to the secret compartments carefully designed in the pen. They handled each piece gingerly, as if it were worth a million Rand. In some cases, it was.
Inside Pieter still fumed. Something would have to be done. He couldn’t have Mhlongo leading someone to the heart of his operation. Most of the time they functioned as a normal legal campsite but at times, like tonight, it would be disastrous to have someone poking around. It just wouldn’t do. Pieter trusted Mhlongo’s instincts about being followed. He was a good tracker. But who was trying to watch them? How much time did he have?
Chapter 18
The following morning Tabitha was surprised at her hunger and ordered a full English breakfast—fried bread, two eggs, three rashers of a meat. She couldn’t tell if it was ham or bacon. Along with black pudding, mushrooms, canned beans and a roasted tomato—all on a huge platter. It was the only alternative to sweet rolls that morning. Tabitha carried it out on to the veranda. She ate the familiar parts of the heavy meal and debated whether to attack another piece of ham/bacon. She could see Phillip attacking a giant plate like this and leaving nothing behind.
“I see you have had breakfast,” Daniel said. His accent gave the word breakfast two distinct syllables, unlike the American version of it. He wore civilian clothes: a baggy yellow cotton polo shirt and tan trousers rather than the green and khaki uniform.
They did a little game viewing on the way out of the park but mostly stuck to driving. The gray overcast day didn’t lend itself to pictures. Daniel kept the silence unless Tabitha started a conversation.
“I thought I heard your voice in the office hallway yesterday when I went to see Mr. Mpande.” Tabitha nosed around the fight she’d heard in the restroom without saying it outright.
“Did you?” He seemed surprised. “The man who was to give me a ride today said he had more important business.” The explanation sounded lame, but Tabitha supposed it wasn’t her business.
A half hour after leaving the Numbi gate, Daniel guided the truck to what looked more like a fruit stand than a taxi pickup. “Why don’t you let me take you where you’re going rather than leaving you on the side of the road among the oranges?” Tabitha asked.
“Oh, oh, oh,” Daniel laughed. “No. It would be out of your way, and it wouldn’t be safe for you to drive alone on the way back.”
Tabitha started to protest, but Daniel waved his hands and shook his head. She gave in. “All right. Can I pick you up on the way back here?”
“I think I will not be back at the same time as you will return. I will ask my mother to pray for your mission to find out what happened and for your family at the loss of your uncle. She is a powerful prayer warrior.”
Tabitha was touched. “Thank you, Daniel. I’d like that.” He gave her a few directions for when she arrived in Nelspruit. “And do not forget to put the clutch in when you stop the bakkie.” He smiled and waved goodbye.
On her own, Tabitha felt uneasy. Phillip’s absence was palpable. She hummed to fill the silence and fiddled with the radio. It took concentration to stay on the left side of the road and musical signals didn’t seem to be reaching her out in the country. Driving the stick shift on the highway was easier than stop and go, but she did not feel at ease. She eyed her mirrors. A car had been behind her since she’d left the park. It was the main road away from the park, but she kept shifting her gaze back to the mirrors. She couldn’t tell who was driving the car behind her. She recalled all the stories of violent crime she’d heard about South Africa. Would someone follow a lone American woman for violence, or had she done something else to draw attention? The car turned off at a vegetable stand alongside the road and Tabitha let out a relieved breath. Still, she’d make sure she went to a populated area in Nelspruit before she stopped.
<><><>
“Sir?”
Mpande looked up from his desk and gestured for Souli to shut the door and have a seat.
“You have followed her?”
Souli sighed. “Yes, there is nothing to report. She left the park earlier so there is no danger she will meet Mhlongo again.”
“Again? What do you mean?”
“Last night, she met him in the Skukuza restaurant. According to what the servers could hear she was asking about game trekking and animals in the park. All innocent. She does not suspect.” Souli looked away from Mpande and a silence suffocated the small office. “I think we are wasting our time following her,” Souli added quietly.
“What have you to report on Mhlongo? Have you tracked him to his source yet?”
Souli rubbed a hand across his forehead. “No. One of my men was close on him, but he apparently sensed he was being followed and lost us.”
“How can you lose him in the park?”
Souli shrugged. “It was near Jock of the Bushveld, where several roads branch off. We haven’t seen him kill anything or do anything illegal yet, or we would pull him from his job for charges.”
“You’re sure it’s him?”
“Reasonably.”
“You need to be more certain than that. The director will want a full report when he gets back,” Mpande said.
“Should that include following the girl?” Souli looked at his shoes.
Mpande didn’t answer for a moment.
“You see that I am trying to keep this investigation pure, on track. If you disagree with my methods, take it up with the director when he returns.”
Souli nodded and rose to leave.
“Do whatever is necessary. We need to stop Mhlongo. Just make sure Ms. Cranz doesn’t speak with him anymore.”
Souli was out the door and he didn’t look back. Mpande pressed his hands hard onto his desktop to stop them from shaking. His frustration felt like a presence in the office. He looked out the window and swore.
<><><>
It seemed that much of Nelspruit was gray. Gray office buildings, gray streets. The people walking wore bright colors and the colors of fast food eateries broke the monotony. Tabitha wound her way into the city and found a modern three-story hotel. As she registered, she reminded herself that her Aunt Rose would help cover the extra costs. She hated to think about cost when Phillip was lying dead, but her reality was this trip would be the end of her funds. Funds, Tabitha snorted to herself, the end of any savings or retirement she’d been able to lay her hands on in the last year. If she were going to keep freelancing, she’d have to get a waitress job. Or give up the dream and try to get back into PR. Either way, it wasn’t what she wanted.
She found a basic map in a phone book and set out in pursuit of the police station. She hoped she had enough time to get there before closing.
Thirty minutes and several wrong turns later she jerked the bakkie into a parking spot outside of a tall gray cement building. Now that she looked up at the four stories of concrete, she felt hesitant. One little white girl from Chicago asking about a dead man they’d never heard of suddenly didn’t seem plausible. She combed through her sand-colored hair and pulled it back into a knot with an orange band. Perhaps that would make her look more respectable. Ignoring her mother’s voice in her head saying she should have dressed up, she shook her head and raised her chin. She got out of the car with all the authority and confidence she could muster.
She jumped back as the edge of the door was clipped by a car screeching into the space beside her. It was all sound and no damage, but her heart beat wildly and her toes tingled with the close call. A blond chunk of man stepped lightly from the police vehicle.
“Jammer wees dat.” Tabitha did
n’t move. He looked at her with deep blue eyes in a well-tanned face then said, “Oh, English. Sorry about that there. No harm done?”
Tabitha shook her head but remained plastered to the side of the truck.
“Pardon me. It looks like I scared you. Didn’t mean to. Are you going in?” He pointed at the police building. She nodded.
“Uhm, tell you what, I’ll get you introduced to the right person inside to make up for it, ‘kay? Help you jump the queue.” He came around and dusted the edge of the door on the bakkie to make sure it was all right. His gray police uniform strained over his well-muscled shoulders, though he wasn’t tall. He slammed the door and held out a hand. “Rian Minnaar.”
“Tabitha Cranz.” She decided not to add the ‘pleased to meet you’ in spite of his cheerful grin.
“You from the States, then?” he asked as he ushered her towards the building.
Tabitha nodded. Rian marched her past a long line of waiting people, mostly black Africans; a few white faces sprinkled the crowd. Tabitha felt self-conscious striding past them and through the constable door rather than taking up a spot in the line. This encounter with Officer Minnaar was rather fortunate, now that she saw the length of the wait that had been facing her. At an internal waiting area, Rian pointed to a chair. Tabitha sat, and watched as he walked off whistling. She wondered what was going on and if she’d just get sent back to the line. She fidgeted and looked for something to read, but no tables nestled nearby and the row of five light blue chairs held nothing. She’d begun to think about leaving when Rian appeared again.
“What’s your pleasure?” Rian asked.
“Excuse me?”
“What do you need? Why’re you here?” He flung himself down in a chair.
“Oh. It’s a long story, but basically I need help with getting my uncle’s body released from Kruger Park and getting a police report. I don’t know who I should talk to.”
Killed in Kruger Page 7
