Frederick Ramsay_Botswana Mystery 01

by Predators

“We are not sure. You see, it is like this. Mr. Farrah engaged to go with a group to Zimbabwe to see the Victoria Falls. We do not recommend our guests go alone because of the situations in that country. He failed to meet the bus. We placed a call to his room, and no answer. The driver, he is getting impatient. We knock on Mr. Farrah’s door. Again no answer. So, we think, maybe this man is, perhaps, sick. So, we open the door. By now the group has left for the Falls without him and the driver is not so happy to do that. But, you see, Mr. Farrah’s bed is still made, not been slept in, and he is not there. We are worried he might be hurt or…” The manager’s voice trailed off.

  “I can’t imagine why he did not return to his room. He seemed all right when he left here.”

  “The barkeep says he was unsteady when he received a call from you, he thinks, and then Mr. Farrah leaves.”

  “You mean he was drunk the last time anyone saw him at the bar.”

  “It is so. And because of this unsteadiness, it is possible he could have fallen. If he goes too near the river, or…” The manager shrugged and rolled his eyes.

  “Or what? You think he might have fallen in? The water would sober him up in a big hurry. He wouldn’t go near the river no matter how drunk he was, and if he fell in, he’d fly out of there like a rocket. Henry was terrified of your crocodiles.”

  “I was thinking of the lion.”

  “The lion? Don’t tell me that it’s real, too. There really is a lion on the loose? Christ, I thought that was just a PR ploy.”

  “No. Mr. Painter,” the manager looked hurt, “I assure you there is a lion threat. Not three kilometers from here a young man was taken. It was very sad. We warned you when you arrived to be careful, you see. Even now, they are hunting it.”

  “Well, I’ll be…”

  “So if you can help us find him, Mr. Farrah, I mean, we would be grateful.”

  “I don’t know what I can do, frankly. Farrah spent about an hour here last night, He left about ten, and I think he was headed to the Sedudu Bar. Maybe he passed out down there.”

  “The boy has already been there to clean, and he does not report your friend being there. Perhaps he is nearby.”

  “Sorry, it’s the best I can do. Say, do you think you could have a pot of coffee and some Danish sent down? I am in the middle of a meeting here with my associates, and Inspector Moeasy has some questions he wants to ask us.”

  “Modise.”

  “What? Oh, sorry, Inspector Modise. When he’s finished perhaps he can help hunt. Isn’t that what you do, Inspector, hunt for things?”

  Modise gave Leo a chilly smile. “It is one of the things we do, Mr. Painter. Stopping crime is often about hunting.”

  The two hotel employees left with a promise to send over food and drink.

  “Inspector, you asked me a question before we were interrupted. In the confusion I lost my train of thought. What was it again?”

  “You are not concerned about your missing friend?”

  “Henry Farrah is not my friend. He is, or I should say, was, an employee. I do not make friends of my employees. To my mind it is bad business. I work with them, am cordial most of the time, but I learned early in my career that it is much easier to fire an acquaintance than a friend. Furthermore, the man was preparing to stab me in the back, metaphorically speaking. One of several with that idea in mind, I might add.” Leo shot Travis a look.

  “I am sorry to hear that. You are correct, I did not ask about your friend before, I asked if there was anything you and Mr. Greshenko, and now Mr. Parizzi, were about here in Kasane that could cause either of us to be concerned for your future stay in Botswana?”

  “No, Inspector. There is not. Our dealings with Mr. Botlhokwa, were aboveboard. We were led to believe he had certain connections that might expedite our business here. That is all.”

  “I am happy to hear that.” Modise did not look either happy or convinced. He rose to leave, and his eye fell on the bit of boloi. Where did that come from?”

  “Had a flat tire on the way over here, found that in the back of the LADA when I went to look for the jack. I think somebody doesn’t like me.”

  “So it would seem. You say you had a flat tire?”

  “Two.”

  “Then it must have worked. May I have it?” Greshenko nodded. “We have an open case concerning the disappearance of a young girl. We will take this to the lab and run a DNA scan.”

  “You think that’s human?” Leo found the idea appalling.

  “I think this is monkey, but I must be sure. The lab will know. And if it isn’t then we will be back to find out who purchased it and, from whom.”

  “Well, good luck with that.”

  Modise produced an evidence bag from his coat pocket and placed the charm in it, marked the time, date, and place it had been recovered. He walked to the door, paused and faced the three men.

  “Please do not require me to return to you. Take some advice. Do your business without the famous Rra Botlhokwa.”

  When he’d left, Leo turned to Greshenko, “Can we?”

  “Maybe yes and maybe no.”

  “Leo,” Travis said, “would you fill me in on what you’ve been doing. If I’m going to spend time in a Botswana jail, I’d like to know why.”

  “Here’s our coffee. Have a cup and then we’ll talk.” He let the staff person in and waited until the man set up and departed. “All right, Yuri, fill Travis in on what we’ve been doing.

  CHAPTER 37

  Sanderson looped back to her village after reporting to her supervisor. Pako seemed preoccupied with packing, unpacking, and repacking boxes in anticipation of his move to Maun. He said he did not have time for her this day or to give her any direction.

  “You should be out hunting the lion. You should understand that if there is failure doing this thing, there was nothing I can say to my successor to help you keep her position.”

  He looked very smug when he said that. She excused herself and left.

  She checked in on Michael. He seemed better, stronger. He smiled and assured her that his sister had made him eat.

  “Too much, Mma. Tell my sister I will die of overeating before this disease gets me.”

  She made a face at him. Making jokes like that did not please her at all. Still, it showed he was stronger. Maybe…No she would not think it.

  She made an early lunch of some cold meat left over from the previous night and the bit of breakfast porridge still in the pot. Her mobile beeped just as she finished.

  The hotel was calling. There had been an accident with a lion. She must come immediately. A lion? Her lion? That could not be. Her lion, as everyone in the village knew, was in the Makgadikgadi Pans by now. What is this? She called a goodbye to her son and raced to the Land Rover. Rra Kaleke stood in front of his rondeval. She waved to him.

  “Rra, you must come there is another lion taking a man.”

  Kaleke shuffled as fast as he could and slid into the cab next to her. “Where is the lion doing this?”

  “At the Safari Lodge near the Sedudu Bar. It is all I know. But they are thinking it is the same animal that took that Zimbabwe boy. But it cannot be the same one.”

  Kaleke shook his head. They raced to the Kasane road and turned toward the lodge. Three police cars were drawn up in front, but as they arrived, two of them drove off toward the end of the hotel property to park nearer the bar. She followed.

  A crowd had gathered at the camping ground that covered the space between the hotel’s separate lodge buildings and the Sedudu Bar. Police were busy urging them back. Anxious faces turned toward her as she strode forward through the crowd. She was the gamekeeper; she would know. Sanderson pushed ahead and, followed closely by Rra Kaleke, made her way through the crowd toward the spot where two men stood talking animatedly to a third. As she approached they turned and seeing her uniform, pointed further into the bush.

  She saw the lion first. His huge body stretched out and his head rested on the man’s chest. He appear
ed peaceful and asleep. The plethora of flies indicated he wasn’t. She drew closer.

  “It is Sekoa,” she said. “It is the old lion from the Natanga pride. So this is where it ends, old man,” she said to the lion, then realized Rra Kaleke might think she spoke to him.

  He did not. “This tau did not kill this man,” Kaleke said. He shook his head. “That is very strange. It looks like he just put all his energy in bringing his prey to this spot and then he says goodbye to the world.”

  “He was a sick lion. His poor body must have just given out. But why do you say he did not kill the man?”

  “You see, there are no wounds to the man’s neck. If this lion did take this man, he would close those terrible jaws on his until he is dead. Then he would bring him to this place. But look here. There are only the marks on the shoulder, but, you see, his wind-pipe has no marks. Then he drags this body to this place from over there.” Kaleke pointed back the way they’d come at the disturbed grass and scarred earth on the camp ground.kgokgotsho, his…what is it? His throat? He would close down on it

  Sanderson looked back the way he’d indicated and then back at the man.

  “Maybe this man had a fall or a heart attack and old Sekoa came upon him and say, ‘Here is a fine meal for me,’ and dragged him in the bush to feed. Only he is too sick and so he dies.”

  They signaled for help and the man who’d been talking to the hotel staff came over.

  “We must move this body away from the animal,” she directed the man to grab the shoulders and she his feet. On her count Kaleke lifted the lion’s head and they slid the body out from under it.

  “What is this?” She studied the angry gash on the man’s abdomen. “That does not look like a lion wound.”

  “What then?” The man who’d come to help said.

  “I do not know, but that is not from this old man—the lion, I mean.”

  “I am Inspector Modise of the Gaborone Police. What are you suggesting?”

  “I am saying nothing, only that this lion did not kill this man but he has some sort of wound.”

  Superintendent Mwambe strolled over to the group.

  “Where is your boss, Sanderson? Where is Mr. Pako?”

  “He is busy preparing to depart. He says I must handle this.”

  “Well, it seems you have found your lion at last. It is unfortunate for this man you did not find him sooner. Were you hunting in the wrong place, Missus?”

  Kaleke faced the police superintendent. “This is not the lion that took that boy.”

  “Nonsense. And who are you to make such an assertion? Of course it is the lion. I will tell the hotels they can relax their vigilance. The lion has been found and is dead, no thanks to Sanderson.”

  “But—” Sanderson felt Rra Kaleke’s hand on her arm and glanced at him. He shook his head. Mwambe marched away to direct his officers in their duties and give the hotel manager the good news. Modise frowned and followed him more slowly.

  “Sanderson, accept the lion. It will relieve you of pretending to hunt. That other lion is gone, and this one will do, you see? That Mwambe cannot be told anything; he is so puffed up, this man. Do you know what he is named in the village? Tshwena, the baboon.”

  She saw Kaleke’s point. If luck gives you this chance, you must go for it.

  A truck arrived to take the body away. People milled around waiting to see what would happen to the lion. A dead lion was worth much pula. His pelt alone would bring a big price in the right places, and certain of his parts, like his heart, could be sold to the witches for money or favors. If they buried it, surely someone would return and dig him up. Sanderson called for a second truck to come and collect the lion. Sekoa belonged to the government now, and severe penalties would fall on anyone who tried to interfere.

  The hotel manager walked over to Sanderson and Rra Kaleke. He nodded to her but addressed him.

  “Rra, what do you make of this situation? This man was a guest from America, a Mr. Henry Farrah.”

  “It is a confusion. We see this lion, and he is with the dead man, but he is not the cause of this man’s dying. At first I believed he has seen this old lion coming at him and his pelo just stops from fright.”

  “You think the lion jumps out of the bush, and the man, this Henry Farrah, had a heart attack?”

  “Yes, that is what I think it must be at first, but then I see that this man has come across a very strange thing. He has had a meeting with something very sharp and it did him a disservice. I think he falls over there,” he pointed back along the route marking the broken brush and flattened grass. Rra Kaleke gazed sadly at the departing truck carrying the last remains of Henry Farrah. “And then this poor lion found him and dragged him in the bush for a meal, but he didn’t live to eat it. Maybe it is the tau that has the heart failure, instead.”

  “You do not think that the wound was made by the lion?”

  “No. If the lion bites him, there will be many punctures. His teeth are in pairs, you see?” Kaleke bent over and pulled back Sekoa’s lips to expose his incisors and massive fangs. “You see this one on the right side of his mouth is chipped. He must have had a disagreement with a nare, you know, a big buffalo , and broke off a piece when he tries to bite on his kgokgotsho to bring him down.”

  “He fought a buffalo you think?”

  “Of course, many. This one is a proud animal, he would bring down buffalo, anything except a grown elephant, I think.” Rra Kaleke surveyed the nearby trees. “If the manong had found these two sooner, there would be no evidence to tell us these things.”

  “But, why did the vultures not come until now?”

  “Who can read the minds of all these creatures that Modimo gives to us?”

  CHAPTER 38

  Even though he was on edge, somehow Bobby managed to eat his breakfast without starting a quarrel. He needed to be Mr. Cool this morning. At any moment he expected police cars and detectives to come crashing into the hotel, throw handcuffs on Brenda and haul her away. He did notice several employees dashing toward the walkways that eventually led to the path to the Sedudu Bar. If Brenda noticed, which he doubted, she gave no indication, but happily wolfed down a huge breakfast and several cups of coffee. He would have to wait, he guessed.

  They were nearly back to their room when a policeman approached them.

  “What’s with the police cars, officer?” Bobby kept Brenda close.

  “Ah, I am Superintendent Mwambe, not ‘officer.’ And the excitement is about a death.”

  “Somebody was killed?” Wherever Brenda’s mind had been, it quickly returned to the present.

  “Alas, I am afraid it is so, an American tourist, one of your party, if I am not mistaken.”

  “Name?”

  “I do not know. He was a large man in a suit…”

  Bobby’s eyes lit up. “That would be Leo Painter, then.”

  “Leo’s dead. Wow. Where?”

  Mwambe pointed back along the walkway toward the bush. “Just by the Sedudu Bar, Miss. It is very terrible.”

  “This I gotta see. Bobby, we could be in for some serious money soon.” Brenda rushed away. After four steps she paused and bent her knees and lifted her feet, first one and then the other, to remove her shoes. Bare footed, she hurried down the walkway, pausing momentarily to drop her shoes and her purse by their door.

  “Put those away for me, will you?” she called over her shoulder.

  “Leave it to my wife to wear stilettos with a safari outfit. She’s strange, you know?”

  “I’m sorry, you were saying?” Mwambe had had his eyes and mind on the show of legs and thighs and missed Bobby’s remark.

  “Weird, she is. Say, you know, she’s been acting kind of strange lately. Now that you tell me Leo’s bought it, it makes sense, sort of. See, I came in last night, like, I was at the bar, and she’s all jumpy, you know?”

  Mwambe did not know. His confusion altered his usual scowling expression.

  “See, she really hated Leo, a
nd it wouldn’t surprise me if she didn’t have something to do with him getting killed.”

  “I hardly see how that is possible, Mister…”

  “Sorry, I’m Griswold, Bob Griswold. Oh yeah, she could. You don’t know it, but back in Chicago? Like, she used to hang around with gangsters and all. Worked in a night club as an exotic dancer.”

  That revelation brought another shift in Mwambe’s expression. Exotic dancer added to the bit of leg he’d seen…“That is quite fascinating Mr. Griswold, but I still don’t see how.”

  “Look, step in our room for a minute. You just might be interested in something I saw in the trash can. It, like, didn’t mean anything at the time but, you know, I thought she might have cut herself shaving her legs and so I didn’t pay any attention but when you add in Leo’s been killed, well…”

  Mwambe’s mind had stopped inputting with legs.

  They reached the door. Bobby stooped and collected Brenda’s shoes and opened the door. “If you’ll just have a look.” He stopped in his tracks and dropped the shoes. Mwambe had to sidestep around him.

  “They cleaned the room. I said not to and they did anyway. Now it’s gone.” He turned to the policeman. “You’d better check the trash for the evidence.”

  “Sir, I am confused. You say your wife had something to do with the death, is that correct?”

  “Yes, no, I’m worried, you know. Like, she is my wife and all, so I have to support her and…” Bobby ran out of words. He didn’t want to sound too pushy, but he did want Mwambe to start to check her out. Only the room was clean and the glove gone.

  “How could she have done such a thing? I cannot see how this woman in her high heels and short dress could have incited a lion to attack your friend. A man perhaps, but not a lion. How would she do that?”

  “Whoa, you said lion? A lion killed Leo?”

  “But yes. I thought you knew.”

  “You just said he was killed, and I thought you meant he was murdered.”

  “Well, by the lion, yes. We do not think of wild animals as murderers. Hunting and killing is what they do. But I suppose you could say that.”