No, it would be better if she gave his name and then stressed how he couldn’t be the murderer. While she was there, she’d explain how someone had sabotaged Sam’s plane, and how Stokes had been seen standing after Sam left. Mr. Robertson could verify that.
Robertson! He bought one of those knives. It wasn’t a far stretch to assume he’d dropped his knife near the dip tank and didn’t know where he’d lost it. With all the traffic near there, it would be easy for someone to kick the knife under the tank. So the knife might not have anything to do with the murder. But it might! What Jade found most curious was the fact that Mr. Chalmers had just purchased one of those knives and hadn’t bothered to mention that to her when she showed him the old one.
Finch can sort it out. As long as he drops Sam from his suspect list. Her decision made, Jade went into the police station, head high. “Inspector Finch, please.”
“Sorry, miss,” said the constable behind the desk. “Inspector’s busy. Absolutely not to be disturbed. Perhaps I can help you.” He spied her rifle slung over her shoulder. “You’re going to have to check your weapon at the door.”
Jade carefully leaned her rifle against the wall, beginning to wish she hadn’t taken it with her when they went to fix the plane. In town, it was a nuisance. She dug into her pocket and handed over the knife, explaining where she’d found it and to whom it might have belonged, while the officer wrote down the particulars. “I don’t know if you can get any fingerprints off it anymore,” Jade said.
The constable picked up the handkerchief with the knife still resting in it and placed it in a small wooden box. He put a note and a label on it and set it aside. “Right. I’ll see that he gets it first thing.” He turned to his paperwork.
“I’m not finished,” said Jade and related the incident with the plane, stressing that Sam couldn’t have fouled his own plane as he was sick then. The constable wrote down her information and added that note to the other one.
Jade retrieved her rifle and went out the door, feeling relieved. She’d finally done something to help clear up this shauri. Giving up the knife to the police meant that the situation was literally in their hands now.
She flagged down a motorized rickshaw and headed home to Parklands and her friends as the sun set. Would Avery be back yet? Would Sam be there, too? Would anyone have something to eat? Her stomach rumbled, and she realized she hadn’t eaten since the bacon-and-biscuit breakfast she’d made. It was past six now.
Madeline met Jade on the veranda, a smile on her face. “Avery came home a few hours ago,” she said. “Sam flew in just fine, but Avery stayed on to help him give the carburetor and tank another thorough cleaning.”
Jade wiped her boots on the mat and stepped inside. “Didn’t Sam come back with Avery?” She looked around the room, hoping to see his dark eyes flashing at her from some corner.
“Sorry, Jade. No, he didn’t. He told Avery he was exhausted, and Avery said he looked it. I don’t think either of them wanted to risk a relapse.” Madeline laid a motherly hand on Jade’s shoulder and leaned closer. “You wouldn’t want him back in the hospital, I’m sure.”
Jade shook her head, trying to let go of her disappointment. “No, definitely not. You’re right. It was . . . a smart plan.” She hung her rifle on the gun rack and went over to see Beverly and Jelani, seated at a writing table, heads bent over a paper. Both looked up at her approach and greeted her, Beverly with a bright smile, Jelani with a serious nod.
“Hello, you two,” said Jade. “Dare I ask what you’re up to?”
“I have started to write, Simba Jike,” said Jelani. “I am telling about my village and how the men must leave to work.”
“It’s very good, too,” said Beverly. “Jelani has a powerful voice.”
“May I read it?” asked Jade.
Jelani placed his right hand over the paper. “When it is finished, Simba Jike. I do not want anyone to say that you wrote the words.”
“I understand,” Jade said. It pained her to see the intensity in his eyes. Crusades like his often went the worst for the crusader. Then, just as she was about to turn away and leave him to his work, a spark of the boy returned. His black eyes flashed and his lips twitched as if he was struggling to contain his excitement. “What?” Jade asked him.
“Bwana Dunbury told me that Bwana Featherstone will take me up in the airplane tomorrow morning. We will fly over my village, and I will see everything!”
Jade grinned, joining in his enthusiasm. “You’ll love it, Jelani. There is nothing like it.”
“I thought I would drive him over to the hangar,” said Madeline. “I’ll go home early tomorrow morning. Then Neville or I will make certain that Jelani gets back to his village without any more incidents.”
An idea came to Jade. “Maybe I can go with you? My motorcycle is still at the hangar.”
“No, it’s not.”
Jade turned to see Avery standing in the rear door of the parlor, wiping his hands on a rag. “I brought your motorbike back with me. Tied it on the boot of my car. Just took it off now.”
“Come with us anyway,” said Madeline. “Ride your cycle. I’m sure Sam will want to see you.”
“Thank you. I will.” Jade clapped her hands together. “Now, is there anything to eat around here, Beverly? I’m starved.”
Beverly glanced at the mantel clock and made several tsking sounds. “It’s only six thirty, Jade. How can you think of sitting down to supper at such an uncivilized hour?” She laughed and shook her head, setting her soft curls jiggling like corn silk and sunlight. Beverly’s laugh, so full of mischief and joy, always reminded Jade of a rippling brook. “I suppose this is when the cowboys eat, am I right?”
Jade’s stomach growled.
“Ooh, careful, everyone,” said Beverly. “The lioness is hungry.” She laughed again.
“I haven’t eaten since dawn, Bev,” said Jade.
Beverly hoisted herself up from the stiff chair she’d been sitting in next to Jelani and waddled over to a softer one near the unlit fireplace. “If you can subdue your appetite for another hour, I can promise you a very fine meal. I have hired a mpishi,” she said, using the Swahili for “cook,” “as well as a maid, a butler of sorts, and several kitchen hands. We are having a very fine roasted chicken.”
“I hope he can cook,” said Avery as he helped his wife settle into the chair.
“His name is Matthew so, of course, he calls himself Matthew Mpishi. He cooked for Mrs. Bottworthy for three years, but she and her husband are returning to England in another month.”
“In a month!” exclaimed Madeline as she picked up a sheaf of typed pages from the sofa and sat down. “Then I wonder how you managed to secure him now.”
Beverly grinned. “Offered him double wages if he’d jump ship. Of course, Mrs. Bottworthy is furious with me,” she added with a shrug, “but they can eat at her daughter’s house for the rest of their stay.”
“Do you expect us to dress for dinner?” asked Jade.
Beverly waved the idea away. “As if you would, you wild hyena. Besides,” she added, “I don’t think I have any evening clothes that will fit me at the moment.”
Jade found it hard to imagine that Beverly’s closet was entirely devoid of something proper to put on, but she knew that Beverly was very attentive to the feelings of others. In this case, she didn’t want to embarrass Maddy, who would have only her housedress to wear. Such consideration was one of Bev’s more lovable traits and one that endeared her to Jade. She’d seen the extra care Bev had given to the wounded in her ambulance, always speaking to them as though they were her dearest friends.
Another stomach growl broke Jade’s reflections. “Better feed her something,” said Avery, “or she’ll devour the entire chicken.” He went off to find something for her to snack on.
“I know what will take your mind off food,” said Madeline. “We can tell you all about our interrogation today.”
Avery returned with a large slab of br
ead, slathered in creamy butter. Jade thanked him and bit off a big chunk. “What interrogation?” she asked with her mouth full.
“The Berryhill boy,” said Beverly.
Jade’s eyes widened. She’d forgotten all about him and his statements alluding to blackmail. She looked from one to the other, waiting for someone to continue.
Beverly laughed. “You should see yourself, Jade. Very well, I shall tell you before you explode.” She tried to cross her legs to get more comfortable and gave up. Jade pushed an ottoman toward her to rest her feet on instead. “Thank you, love. Now, how to begin.”
“Try by telling me what he said,” said Jade, growing impatient with Bev’s teasing.
“My story,” said Bev. “I telephoned the store and placed an order for flour and pots and potatoes and—” She cut off her list when she saw Jade’s glare. “The point being that it was a large enough order to ensure that the young man would deliver it instead of Mrs. Berryhill, since you told me she does some of that sort of thing now.”
“And?” coaxed Jade.
“And he came right away yesterday evening,” piped in Madeline, anxious to get to the good stuff. She looked sheepishly at Bev, who simply smiled and motioned with an open hand for her to continue. Before she could, a third voice chimed in.
“He ate an entire tin of biscuits,” said Jelani, scorn and indignation in his voice. “He ate like a famished jackal before the lion comes to claim his food.”
“Yes,” said Madeline, “but, of course, that was the plan. We plied him with food and asked him all sorts of questions while he sat and . . . and inhaled food faster than a Hoover.” She grabbed a pencil. “I must use that line in my next book.”
Both she and Beverly erupted in girlish giggles. Jelani looked at Jade, rolled his eyes, and grinned. Jade smiled back, letting her friends have their fun. In the meantime, she took another bite of bread, making certain to take smaller ones and chew slowly, lest she supply them with more ammunition against her later.
Beverly wiped a tear from her eyes. “You tell her, Maddy. I can’t stop laughing.”
“Well, I went back to the pantry to see that everything was stored properly and just eavesdropped, mind you. But Beverly was brilliant. She told the young man that she’d only just come to live here and asked him all sorts of questions about Nairobi and, of course, his father’s store. She complimented the young man on his muscular build and asked if he did all the deliveries. Harley said he had started only recently, that Mr. Stokes had handled most of them before. It came out then that Mr. Stokes had been found dead.”
“By now I opened up a second tin of biscuits,” said Beverly, “but I doled them out to him a few at a time while I pumped more information from the well. It was quite evident that he didn’t care for Mr. Stokes.”
Jade leaned forward in her seat. “That much we knew. Did he say why?”
Maddy finished the tale. “He claimed that Mr. Stokes insisted on doing the deliveries because he saw things other people didn’t and shouldn’t. Then he used the information against people.”
“Right,” said Jade. “Harley made the blackmail accusation to Sam. But I was hoping for something more specific.”
“Patience, Jade,” said Beverly.
“I’m afraid you’ll go into labor and have that baby before you get to the end of the story,” retorted Jade.
Madeline giggled again, and even Jelani grinned. Avery, wisely, kept his mouth shut.
“Apparently Stokes had seen Harley and one of his school chums engaged in some shenanigans and offered not to tell their fathers if they paid him.”
Jade sighed and her shoulders slumped. “That’s not much help then, is it? I’d hoped the boy had seen Stokes blackmail his father or someone else on the suspect list.”
Avery stepped forward. “You have a suspect list?”
“Yes.” She told them about finding the knife as well as the names of anyone who’d recently purchased one just like it. “I’m hoping the killer lost it, couldn’t find it in the dark, couldn’t come back in the daylight to look without arousing suspicions, and then eventually bought a new one to replace it.”
“And you gave the knife and that list of names to Inspector Finch?” asked Avery.
“To one of his constables,” said Jade. “Unfortunately, Sam’s name was on there, too, so I’m not sure how much attention Finch will pay to the others.” She made a fist and pushed it into her other palm. “I hope there are still some fingerprints left on it. He may not know who they belong to, but at least he’ll be able to eliminate Sam from the list.”
Just then, a slender Somali stood in the doorway. He wore a white turban and an immaculate white knee-length robe over white pants. “Excuse, madam. Mpishi says the dinner is ready.”
“Thank you, Farhani. You may begin serving then,” said Beverly.
Avery helped Beverly to her seat, and held Madeline’s chair for her. Jade declined a similar offer with a wave and sat down next to Madeline.
“Jelani,” said Beverly, “please sit next to Jade.”
Jelani looked uncomfortable joining them at the table, but Beverly and Avery both insisted. They started with ox-tail soup, followed by a well-cooked and succulent roast chicken nestled in a bed of vegetables. Fresh bread and creamy butter completed the meal. Avery and Madeline each drank a glass of wine, while Beverly, Jade, and Jelani opted for lemonade.
Jade was too hungry to talk much, and so most of the conversation flitted around local town news supplied by Madeline and Avery, who had both made short trips into Nairobi proper. Madeline had gone to see if there were any replies to her adoption notice. There was one: a lady suggesting that they inquire at Lady Northey’s home for children.
“Those children have parents but they’re soldier settlers, just now building their homes,” said Madeline with a heavy sigh.
Beverly laid a hand on Madeline’s arm. “Don’t give up hope, Maddy dear. There have been orphans there before. Avery and I will give you and Neville the best character references.”
“But how can I pray for a child if it means the poor dear will lose his or her real parents?”
“I don’t think you would be hoping for anything of the kind,” said Bev.
“Did I mention,” said Jade, turning the topic, “that Alwyn Chalmers’ polo pony actually returned? He told me when I saw him at Stokes and Berryhill. I’ve never seen that man so happy before.”
“Really,” said Avery. “I say, that is interesting. What was he purchasing? Do you know?”
Jade thought for a moment. “Bridle, horse equipment. And a lot of soaps and cleaners. Curtains, too, and piles of white flannel. Lord knows he needed all of it. I’d seen cleaner pigsties than his home. He was in a hurry, though. Said he was heading to E. Dobbie’s next. Isn’t he a watch repairman?”
“Jeweler,” said Avery. He put his forefinger to his lips and pondered in silence.
“What, Avery?” asked Beverly. “What are you thinking?”
He shrugged. “It is, of course, pure speculation, but when a man buys something from a jeweler and intends to clean his house and hang curtains, I’d say that—”
“He’s bringing home a bride,” broke in Beverly. “Darling, how devilishly clever of you. Just like Sherlock Holmes.” She turned to Madeline and Jade for confirmation of her spouse’s brilliance. “What is it, Jade?”
“I think he’s been looking for Mrs. Stokes. I’d bet my last dollar that she’s been hiding with her baby at that old farmhouse by Longonot. I saw her when I left the plane for Naivasha on foot, and I heard a child. There were tire tracks leading to the farmhouse and a lot of boxes of canned milk from Stokes and Berryhill.
“Someone was bringing her supplies?” asked Beverly.
“I think it was Pauline Berryhill. She told me she had to make deliveries on a Sunday. I think she hid Alice out there. Remember, it was Chalmers who found me near Naivasha. He said he’d been following tire tracks, which doesn’t make sense if he was looking
for his missing pony.”
“So you think he was looking for Mrs. Stokes?” asked Avery.
Jade nodded. “I think he loves her. He had her photo, the only clean item in his house. Chalmers was very disappointed when he thought he’d been following my tracks. But he learned from you and Sam that I’d flown and gotten stranded. So I think he went out there again, found her, and convinced her to go with him. The woman was gone when I stopped back there the next day. Mrs. Berryhill was very distraught this morning and she also said she wasn’t making any more deliveries.”
“Oh, my,” said Maddy. “I’ll have to talk to my new friend, Nancy. If anyone would know some gossip, it would be a hello girl.”
“But why all this pretense of adopting out the baby?” asked Avery.
“Probably so that Alice could start fresh with a new identity somewhere else,” said Jade. “But now that her husband is dead, the pretense is no longer needed. She married the first time because her parents died and she had no one to support her. I don’t think she’s the type of woman who knows how to take care of herself.”
“So she accepted Mrs. Berryhill’s help until another man came along,” said Beverly. “Very interesting. Perhaps all that white flannel is for nappies, then.”
Jade excused herself after dinner to develop her pictures in the separate building that operated as her darkroom. With a red filtered lantern, she took her film through the vats to develop the negatives, then studied them with a lens to look for the best ones to make into prints. To her delight, there were several wonderful photos of the Maasai as well as of the little rhino. She went through them all systematically and finished with a print of the railroad man, Robertson. She could drop it off at the railroad offices tomorrow for him. She was on her way back to the main house when a native came running up, panting hard.
“Simba Jike,” he called, “you are needed.”
Jade held up the lantern and studied him. She didn’t recognize the man, although he looked like a Kikuyu. “Slow down and catch your breath,” she admonished.
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