Stalking Ivory

by Suzanne Arruda

  The plan worked. Smythe burst out of the trees, a look of terror on his face, and wheeled suddenly to spot the beast. He fired twice into the forest in seemingly random shots as though he hoped to startle the unseen animal into running the other way. All this did was arouse the massive elephant into greater anger as another piercingly shrill scream rent the air.

  Smythe backed away and tumbled straight onto the calf-high camera trip wire. He stumbled and fell as the flash powder blazed in a blinding white glare from up in the blind. Jade shut her eyes just in time and, when she opened them, spotted Boguli in the trees just behind Smythe. She took advantage of the latter’s exposed position and blinded disorientation, aimed, drew back the powerful bowstring, and fired. This time the arrow flew true and struck Smythe in the back just below the right shoulder blade. His revolver flew from his hands and clattered several feet away.

  That’s for Chiumbo!

  Once again, Jade beat a hasty retreat before Smythe could retrieve his weapon and fire. The man roared in pain, but he managed to find his revolver and shoot twice into the trees where she’d been. By now, his rage dominated all common sense, and Jade knew he’d kill her the first chance he had. After all, there was no more reason to keep her alive and every reason to finish her off before she could reveal his secret.

  Her only hope now seemed to lie in beating him to the original cache, where she could hide behind the rocks and take one more shot.

  CHAPTER 28

  Mount Marsabit is home to more than elephants. A variety of hooved animals reside there, including the oryx and greater kudu. Then there is a delightful assortment of lesser beasts such as the porcupine, the civet, the honey badger, and that tiny cousin to the mighty elephant itself, the pudgy rock hyrax. Most of these smaller animals will elude even the most watchful eye, but they can be tricked into taking their own photograph if you set the right trap.

  —The Traveler

  HER LUNGS BURNED as Jade pushed herself to her maximum and sprinted through the forest towards the sheltering rocks of the poachers’ cache. She had only four arrows left. If she encountered any of the poachers on the way, she was doomed. Consequently she stayed off the trail, keeping trees between her and any gunfire. Then she remembered the one soldier left behind to guard Claudia von Gretchmar. Suddenly the futility of her plan smacked her full in the face.

  Blast! I’ll have to save at least one arrow for him. Unless she took down Smythe first and got his revolver. Then she’d have a fighting chance. Suddenly, silence and secrecy became as important as speed, and Jade felt a great longing for her stolen Winchester.

  Just when the knot in her right calf nearly became unbearable, she spied the rock outcrop that sheltered the poachers and there, in front of it, stood two guards, the man left at the cache and the one who’d been sent to Harry’s camp. For a moment, Jade thought all was lost, but then she noticed that the men in all their arrogant assurance were busy chewing on handfuls of dates. As one calmly spit out a pit and popped another date into his mouth, Jade looked for his rifle and saw it was slung across his back. The other man’s rifle lay across one of the crates. Claudia sat huddled in the recesses against the cave wall, casting fearful glances back and forth between her armed guard and her dead husband. Mercedes cowered nearby in Liesel’s protective embrace.

  Jade kept to the trees as long as she could and waited until one guard stuffed more food in his mouth, and the second sat down as though to nap. Then she erupted from the trees, screaming like a banshee from hell, and raced straight at the startled soldiers.

  The standing man spun around and choked on the mouthful of fruit while he struggled to slide his rifle from his back. His hands, still full of sticky dates, couldn’t grip the weapon quickly enough to aim and fire, something Jade had counted on when she launched her assault. She kicked up with her right foot. Her boot caught the rifle stock and sent it flying out of his hands. Then she swung a hard right at the man’s jaw.

  Both whole and broken dates spewed out of his mouth and at least one chunk flew to the back of his throat. He doubled over and coughed, giving Jade the opportunity to send him reeling backward with a left uppercut. He landed with a thud against the second guard, who’d just managed to retrieve his rifle. Both toppled a few inches from Liesel. Jade dived for the first soldier’s fallen rifle just as Liesel pushed Mercedes aside and shoved a heavy crate over onto both men.

  Two down, one to go! Unfortunately, just as Jade reached the rifle, Smythe staggered into the clearing.

  The man’s fury and pain were written in blood across his face and shirt and underscored in the deep lines around his eyes and tightly set mouth. In the brief instant that Jade had before he could aim and fire, she read something else in his eyes, a growing stupor from the residual drugs on the arrows, a stupor enhanced by exhaustion. Since she had shot spent arrows pulled from the carcasses of the slain elephants, none of them had enough of the poison to either kill him or render him completely immobile, but their combined effect told on him. It also saved her life.

  Smythe raised his revolver in his shaky hands, squinted down the barrel, and fired. What should have taken him a few seconds took him nearly ten, one second more than she needed. Jade snatched up the rifle and rolled just as the bullet zinged past her and struck the rock. Fragments of volcanic stone flew up from the ground and pelted her legs, and her bow’s hard wood dug into her back. She settled into a kneeling stance.

  As Jade snugged the rifle butt into her shoulder, she prayed the blasted thing was loaded. Without bothering to rise, she worked the bolt action once and fired. The bullet struck Smythe’s wrist and blasted the revolver out of it.

  He screamed and grabbed his shattered hand. Jade scrambled to her feet, chambered another round, and stepped forward, her rifle aimed squarely at Smythe’s chest. In every aspect of his condition, she read the parallel of her innocent friends. She saw Chiumbo’s wounds, Jelani’s pain and blood, and her and Sam’s own brush with death. All that was lacking was the young African soldier’s death. Jade intended to complete the parallel. She rested her cheek against the rifle butt and took aim.

  Smythe’s face paled and he shook his head no, pleading silently for his life. At the same time, he tried to edge away from her, sidling closer to the cache. “You can’t do this,” he croaked. “I have information you want, about my partner.” Bloody spit drooled from his mouth as he babbled and pleaded. “You’re a woman—you haven’t got it in you.”

  “How much you wanna bet, Smythe? Willing to bet your life?” She started to smile, but it turned into a snarl. “Shall I do as Lady Macbeth did? What was it she said? ‘Come you spirits that tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here.’ That would solve it, wouldn’t it?”

  Jade exhaled in preparation for firing. Her finger hesitated for a few seconds on the trigger when two male voices shouted in unison from behind her.

  “Stop!”

  Jade released the trigger without losing her aim or turning around.

  “Nice of you to join us, Sam, Harry. This man is a murderer, a traitor to his country, a smuggler, a poacher, and a slave trader. You’re just in time to witness his execution.”

  “Don’t do it, Jade,” Harry ordered.

  “As if you wouldn’t?” she asked, her cheek still resting on the rifle butt.

  Smythe’s eyes jerked back and forth between Jade and the two men, beseeching them to help him. “She’s berserk,” he said, his voice cracking.

  “Jade, listen to me,” said Sam. His voice was firm, yet soothing. “You’re not a killer. You drove an ambulance, remember? You saved lives. You don’t take them.”

  “He hurt Jelani!” Her voice broke, and a tear cascaded down her cheek.

  “And you saved him,” Sam added, his voice closer as he edged his way to her side. “If you kill this man, scum though he may be, you’ll become like him. Don’t do it, Jade. Leave him to the law. I heard him say he has information. We need to get it from him.”

  Jade groaned, took a dee
p breath, and exhaled in a shuddering sigh of resignation as she slowly lowered the rifle. Sam and Harry both rushed to her side, their concern for her overwhelming any thoughts of Smythe. After all, the man was unarmed and clearly in no condition to escape. As if to prove their assumptions correct, Smythe sagged and stumbled to the rocky wall by the cache’s entrance.

  Harry took the rifle from Jade’s hands just as Smythe pulled a knife from his boot.

  “Look out!” yelled Sam.

  “You can’t escape, Smythe,” said Harry. “Give it up, man.”

  “I may not escape, but if I’m going down, I’m taking that bitch with me.”

  He raised his hand to hurl the knife as Sam grabbed Jade to pull her behind him, but there was no need to use his own body as a shield. Just as Smythe’s hand reached the apex, Claudia von Gretchmar struggled to her feet, a large chunk of volcanic rock in her hand. She brought it down with a hollow thud on Smythe’s head and knocked him out cold.

  “Schweinehund!” she shouted, and spit on his prostrate body. “That is for betraying meine daughter and me.”

  CHAPTER 29

  The next time you play a game of billiards or let your fingers run across the piano keys, think of the life’s blood that was spilt to give you that ivory. It’s not just the blood of the animals; it’s the lifeblood of the brave soldiers and game protectors who guard the herds.

  —The Traveler

  REINFORCEMENTS ARRIVED at Harry Hascombe’s camp the next day in the form of Lieutenant Fitzpatrick, of the King’s African Rifles, and his fifteen askaris.

  “Well, this is certainly one for the books,” said Fitzpatrick. “First your runner staggers into Isiolo with some story about poachers shooting at you and killing one of our men. And just as I get my men together and come out to lend the captain a hand with some reinforcements, I meet up with Lord and Lady Dunbury, who lead me to believe that everything from kidnapping to a potential insurrection is taking place. We come on the double-quick and now you tell me that my own superior officer is a traitor and a murderer.”

  “With his own little militia,” added Jade. “I hope your men manage to round up the rest of these Abyssinian poachers. It seems some of them played the role of his own askaris.”

  “Quite so,” agreed Fitzpatrick. “All but that first poor chap. No wonder Smythe shot him. He couldn’t have the man get back to the post and report on his activities. I always wondered why the captain insisted on our patrolling separately. Now I know. But you suspect that he once worked for Germans under Prince in Tanganyika?”

  “He admitted as much,” said Jade. “Let my headman, Chiumbo, take a look at him. I suspect he can identify him as one of the men that killed his family. And take a good look at any of Smythe’s personal communications. If my suspicions are correct, someone else was in on this with him. He mentioned as much.” She smiled at the young lieutenant and held out her hand. “By the way, congratulations.”

  He shook her hand, a bewildered expression on his face. “For what?”

  “I suspect you’ll be receiving a promotion soon. I don’t doubt you’ll be the next captain.”

  “SO SMYTHE PLANNED to eventually become a ruler in Abyssinia,” summarized Avery when everyone but Harry, who had quickly found another client, had returned to the Dunburys’ new home ten miles outside of Nairobi. They sat on the veranda of the two-storied stone house, lemonade glasses in hand, and watched the sunset over Beverly’s garden. One lone yellow-fronted canary sat on a rosebush and warbled. To their left lay the foundation of a stone stable under construction, where the Dunburys planned to keep horses.

  “Yes, a veritable ‘man who would be king,’ as Kipling put it,” said Jade, Biscuit at her feet. “He promised von Gretchmar to make Mercedes his queen in return for supplying arms, but he promised the same thing to Claudia behind Otto’s back if she returned his gold. In truth, he used both of them and planned to sell them off to someplace like Algeria as soon as he could. The man was totally unscrupulous, doing anything for money.” Jade sighed. “Ivory poaching, slaving, and gunrunning aren’t Smythe’s only crimes, intended to fund his dream kingdom. Looks like drug smuggling may have been a side business. He admitted to having worked with Roger Forster before arranging the ambush that killed Captain Ross. Then he headed north into the frontier as the replacement officer.”

  “Wasn’t Forster the man who smuggled heroin from Mombasa?” asked Sam. “The man who tried to pass himself off as David Worthy’s brother?”

  “That’s right,” said Jade. “He also killed David’s father, but it was a murder for hire. We always suspected Mrs. Worthy paid him to kill her husband before he could produce his illegitimate son.”

  “That’s a cold woman,” said Sam as he sat back.

  “So Smythe stole Jelani as part of his slave trade?” asked Madeline Thompson, who had joined them along with her husband, Neville.

  Jade shook her head. “Jelani was bait to lure me away. His men shot Chiumbo to get us to leave, but I think he knew we came back. And von Gretchmar surely saw Jelani spy around Mercedes’ tent, another reason to take the lad.”

  “But how did von Gretchmar manage to get all those rifles in under Harry’s nose?” asked Avery.

  “They were all in boxes labeled as the women’s personal items. As far as Harry knew, they had crates of cosmetics and lingerie and other frippery.” Jade laughed. “Almost makes me feel sorry for Harry, getting duped again like that. At least we got our rifles back. Smythe had them in his cache.”

  Sam’s opinion of Harry’s predicament came out as a snort. “I’m glad we found Vogelsanger alive,” he said. “He’s fortunate that Smythe only beat him up and left him bound and gagged in that pit.”

  “Why didn’t Smythe shoot him?” asked Avery.

  “Too many people running around the mountain,” said Jade. “He probably didn’t want to call any more attention to himself with a gunshot.”

  “It appears all Vogelsanger was guilty of was trying to protect Mercedes. We know Otto von Gretchmar was up to his neck in this, but whatever happened to Claudia or this other partner Smythe talked about?” asked Avery. “Didn’t he tell you he’d been warned about you?”

  Jade leaned back in her chair with her hands behind her head. “No one could decide how culpable Claudia von Gretchmar was, so the district commissioner settled for chasing her and her companions out of the Protectorate. The last I heard, Smythe refused to speak any more about his so-called distant partner, but they found a letter in his possession written in a woman’s hand and signed with an L.”

  “An L? Then you don’t think either Claudia or Otto was this partner he spoke of?” asked Neville.

  Jade shook her head. “I’m guessing the L means Lilith, as in Olivia Lilith Worthy. The woman has a double life. To the genteel world, she’s Olivia Worthy, grieving widow, but for her illegal activities she uses her middle name. Mr. Percival had sent word to Isiolo that I was coming up, so Smythe had time to send a wire and get information about me. Neither of the von Gretchmars had ever heard of me before, but she’s one person who had who meets all the qualifications.”

  “Lilith Worthy,” repeated Avery in a whisper.

  Jade nodded. “And it appears that she hates me with a passion, presumably because I stopped part of her drug-smuggling ring when I shot Roger Forster, and because she lost half her estate when I produced her husband’s other heir.”

  Sam leaned forward again. “Wait a minute! You think this woman, despicable as she may be, is guilty of more than hiring her husband’s killer?”

  Jade nodded. “Think about it. How would she know who to hire in Africa to begin with unless she already had a connection there? I assumed she’d made contacts from England and built on them, but we’ve never had direct evidence. Anything in Forster’s home that might have incriminated her went up in flames when his house burned down.” She looked over to Madeline in time to see her hastily scribble some notes in a little booklet. “Wait a minute, Maddy. You’re
not going to write this up as another novel, are you?”

  “And why not?” she said. “I just received a letter from a publisher in London. They’re printing Stalking Death and sent a very tidy advance, which will go a long way towards covering the overdraft on our farm. I’m certain they’ll buy this one as well. I plan to call it Ivory Blood. Doesn’t that sound frightfully romantic?”

  Jade rolled her eyes and sighed. “Frightfully.”

  Beverly returned from a guest room and sat down on a stuffed chair next to her husband. “Shhh,” she cautioned. “Jelani’s asleep right now. He’s recovering pretty well, but I expect by tomorrow he’s going to be demanding to be up.”

  “Thank you for keeping him here, Beverly,” said Jade.

  “Well, he certainly is better off here than in what passes for a hospital for natives. He’s lucky he didn’t lose his foot to gangrene. As it is, he’s going to be missing a chunk off his heel and it looks like he may lose a few toes. Dr. Burkitt hasn’t made his final pronouncement yet. I’m just glad that Chiumbo recovered so well. He plans to go home to his people.”

  “He left this morning,” said Jade. “I think he finally feels he can quit searching for his father’s murderer.” She closed her eyes and reflected for a moment on her farewell to the man who’d become a true friend.

  “You’re going home?” she had asked him.

  The tall Tanganyikan had nodded. “My search is over. I no longer need to walk the lands as a guide. I can go back to my people. Perhaps we can begin trading again.”

  “And bring the moon to Dar es Salaam,” added Jade with a smile. “They probably miss it.”

  Chiumbo laughed. “Maybe it found its way to them without us excreting it.”

  Jade chuckled. Then her smile took a sad turn. “I will miss you, Chiumbo. You are a good man and a trusted friend.”

  “And you are a good woman, Simba Jike. I am glad to have known you. But a lioness should not live alone. She lives with a lion lord, does she not?” He held up his hand when she began to protest. “The stone feather man, he is a good man.”