“So Enoch knew about the money, but he didn’t tell you. And the next morning Goodluck and Langa were dead. But you took Zondo to the airstrip.”
“Look, it could still’ve been Zondo. He knew about the money and the drugs. Maybe Enoch knew too, but it doesn’t mean it wasn’t Zondo who was the murderer.”
Tatwa came to life. “Anyway, why would Enoch kill Boardman? What would be the point?”
Dupie stared into his empty glass. “Well…if Enoch had the money, he needed to hide it. He and Boardman went out together that morning by mokoro. Maybe William was in on it. Maybe he just spotted Enoch hiding something. Maybe he wanted a cut, for God’s sake! The man was a greedy son of a bitch. He ripped me off a dozen times for artworks. I know he did. Greedy son of a bitch.” He poured another port.
Kubu had just finished his first. Tatwa’s full glass was still in front of him, and he took a small sip.
“So this is what you’re deducing,” Kubu said. “Enoch took Goodluck’s keys—at your request—checked his luggage and found the money. Salome was convinced Goodluck was one of the gang who attacked her in the war. That made Goodluck a bad guy with a lot of money. Enoch bumps him off and hides the money on the mokoro trip with William Boardman who—when the bodies are discovered—deduces what he was hiding. Then he wants a cut, and Enoch obliges in Maun, with your help for an alibi.”
“I’m not saying all that. I’m just telling you what happened.”
“Is there anything else you’ve left out? Now would be a really good time to tell us the full story.”
Dupie shook his head. “I would’ve trusted Enoch with my life. Hell, I’ve trusted him with my life lots of times.” He paused. “You know what hurts? Not that he killed this man. I understand that. Probably deserved what he got. And what he’s getting.” He pointed downward. “What hurts is that he cut me out. That’s what hurts.”
He lumbered to his feet. “So now you’ve got what you wanted, right? The truth. Let’s see if you can recognize it, after all.” He walked to his tent, his step slightly unsteady.
Kubu and Tatwa looked at each other in silence until they heard the toilet flush and then Dupie’s tent zip up.
“What do you think?” asked Kubu.
Tatwa shook his head. “I don’t believe it. All that business about how close they are? But Enoch goes behind Dupie’s back to murder someone for money. And Dupie lies for him, but then shops him to the police. More in sorrow than in anger.”
“It’s a lot of money. That much money does things to people.”
“It was enough money to share. Plenty of money to share.”
“It’s a good story. But like so many of the other stories, it comes unstuck with Zondo. Just by coincidence he decides to leave the next morning ahead of schedule. Fortunately he doesn’t trip over any of the dead bodies on the way to the boat. Then Dupie drops him at the airstrip where he abandons his favorite hat and jacket and disappears. Without the money. Why on earth would he do that?”
“What if he found Goodluck’s body and took fright? With the warning mutilations, I’d be terrified if I were him. I’d leave in a big hurry.”
Kubu nodded. “It’s not impossible. But remember he arranged to leave early the next day before the murders took place, according to Dupie.” Kubu was thoughtful, wondering whether Dupie might tip off Enoch either casually or on purpose. Enoch knew the area like the back of his hand.
Constable Tau joined them for a moment to get a soft drink on his way to take over the watch at the dock. Kubu passed him an orange soda.
“Keep a careful watch on the mokoros, Tau.” He held up his hand when Tau started to protest. “Yes, I know it’s too dangerous to use them at night. Tell that to Director Mabaku if someone slips away in one of them.” Then Kubu had another thought. “There’s something else I want you to do.” He gave Tau some further detailed instructions.
“Just to be on the safe side,” he said in response to Tatwa’s quizzical look. Then Kubu smiled, thinking back to Dupie’s tale. “It doesn’t really matter how much of this story is true, does it, Tatwa? They’ve started breaking ranks. Tomorrow we can tell Enoch that Dupie’s trying to shove the whole thing onto him. Then Enoch will have another story that we can take to Salome, and soon they’ll be tripping over each other’s lies.” Kubu poured himself a celebratory final glass of port, and toasted in the air with it.
“We’ve got them, Tatwa,” he said. “We’ve got them!”
Chapter 72
The next morning again there was a strained atmosphere. The team spirit generated by the fiction of Madrid as the common enemy had been replaced by reality. The policemen constituted an occupation to be tolerated, not reinforcements to be welcomed.
Moremi set out a buffet of cereals, yogurts, and fruit salad, and then took orders for eggs. Clearly he disliked the new scenario, but didn’t let his distaste run to a desire to see Kubu starve. He delivered a heaped plate of scrambled eggs, bacon, and lashings of toast. Tatwa stuck to the buffet. He was restless.
“We haven’t seen Enoch this morning, Kubu. I hope Dupie didn’t have a change of heart and tip him off.”
Kubu finished a mouthful. “Where would he go? The constables guarded the boats all night.”
“But he could get out overland. If you’re willing to wade through the marshes. I’m worried.”
Kubu was not going to upset his breakfast. A proper breakfast was a prerequisite for a successful day. He just grunted. “Nowhere to go once he gets to the mainland either. Check if the two vehicles are still there.”
Tatwa walked to the river’s edge and looked through his binoculars. The vehicles were still exactly where they’d been the day before. He told Kubu, who nodded and finished the last piece of toast. Moremi poured them coffee.
Dupie joined them, carrying his own plate from the kitchen. “Morning.”
“Where’s Enoch?” asked Tatwa.
“He was around earlier,” said Dupie vaguely. “He’s not a big eater.” That was the end of the conversation, until Kubu had finished a second cup of coffee and Dupie had finished his fried eggs.
“Could you find him for us?” asked Kubu. “After what you told us yesterday, we need to talk to him.” Dupie nodded and headed back to the kitchen.
“Let’s go to the office tent,” said Kubu. “I don’t fancy interviewing Enoch here.”
They settled themselves and waited. Tatwa had brought the Eye with him; he placed it gazing upward in the middle of the mess of papers on Dupie’s desk. It’d had an unsettling effect on Enoch once before.
When Enoch arrived he was carrying a backpack, wearing khaki shorts and sported a multi-pocketed fishing jacket over his shirt. Tatwa breathed a sigh of relief, but Kubu was puzzled by the backpack.
“Dumela, Enoch,” he said. “What’s the backpack for?”
Enoch dumped it beside the flap. “Dupie told me you’d take me to Kasane. So I packed my stuff.” Kubu’s eyebrows rose. So Dupie had been talking to Enoch.
“Sit down, Enoch,” Kubu said, indicating the chair opposite, with the Eye between them, and Tatwa to their left. Enoch looked down at the Eye, shook his head, and remained standing.
Kubu shrugged. “Enoch, we think you’ve been lying to us. About the Monday before last for a start. The day that you supposedly broke down in the bush.” Kubu made a show of consulting his notes. “You said that the trailer broke a bearing on the way to Kasane, that Dupie came out to help you and towed it back, and that you slept in the bush before heading on the next morning. Is that right?”
Enoch nodded. He stood as if before a court martial. Kubu stared at his face, then deliberately glanced down to the Eye, taking Enoch’s gaze with him.
“But, you see, Rra Du Pisanie says it’s not true. Actually, you arranged with him to abandon the trailer, undamaged. He picked it up and brought it back. You had long gone. To Maun.” Dupie hadn’t said this, but Kubu banked on Enoch not knowing that.
“I have a girlfriend in Kachika
u. I spent the night with her. Dupie covered for me. That’s all.”
“Why would he need to cover? You’re not married, are you?”
“Yes. I have a wife in Francistown.”
Tatwa looked at him. “Don’t be stupid, Enoch. Every Motswana man has a mistress! Except Kubu and me, of course. No one needs to cover for that. Not with the wife as far away as Francistown. And Dupie wouldn’t have put himself out for that. We know what you did. You drove to Maun and tortured William Boardman to death, didn’t you? But that was easy, wasn’t it? After you’d killed Goodluck, Zondo, and Langa right here.” Tatwa leaned forward and lifted the Watching Eye as though to examine it. It oscillated and flashed the sunlight from the tent opening into Enoch’s face.
Enoch’s reaction was so sudden that it caught both of them off guard. He grabbed the Eye, slammed it on the desk, and smashed it with something in his fist. Shards of indigo glass flew everywhere. Both detectives jumped back, instinctively closing their eyes. When they opened them a split second later, they found themselves looking at Dupie’s service revolver. Kubu cursed himself under his breath. This man was a fighter, a real veteran of a real war. How could he have been so stupid? No constable was present, no one had searched Enoch. It was all too casual. He had ignored the fact that this man was a multiple murderer. He forced himself to relax in his chair.
“Don’t be silly, Enoch. That’s not going to get you anywhere. There’s nowhere to go, nowhere to run. We know you weren’t the mastermind behind the murders. Let’s put the blame where it really belongs. You were helping Dupie, weren’t you?”
Enoch pointed to the smashed talisman with his left hand. “That’s finished!” he shouted. “I did it for her! You understand? Not for him, for her.”
Kubu nodded, at sea. “I understand, Enoch. Let’s talk about it. There’s no way out of here. Just put down the gun, and we can work it out together.”
Enoch did not answer. He pointed at Tatwa with the gun. “I’m leaving now,” he said. “He’s coming with me. You tell your people that if they try to stop me, I’ll kill him first. You tell them.” Returning his aim to Kubu, he yanked Tatwa up with his left hand. “Turn around,” he said.
Having no choice, Tatwa turned with his back to Enoch. Enoch patted him down, keeping his eyes on Kubu. “Okay. Pick up the backpack. Slowly.” Tatwa bent over and lifted the pack. It was heavy. Stuffed.
“What’s in here?” Tatwa asked, but Enoch ignored him.
“Get out there,” he ordered Kubu, indicating the tent entrance. Then he followed, Tatwa first.
Tau and one of the other constables were drinking coffee in the breakfast area. The third was probably in the kitchen.
“Tell them!” said Enoch.
“Hold your fire!” shouted Kubu, hoping the constables were armed. “He’s got a gun on Detective Mooka!” Both policemen jumped up, alert. Enoch had made a mistake. He could probably have walked right past them with Kubu and Tatwa, almost unnoticed. Now he had four potential adversaries instead of two. That was little comfort to Tatwa. He could feel the gun in the small of his back, pressing his spine.
“You stay here,” Enoch told Kubu.
“Enoch, you’re just making it worse. You can’t escape. Where would you go? Give me the gun, and we can make a deal. Arrange something.”
“Stay here!” Enoch repeated loudly.
Dupie ran from the kitchen followed by the third constable. “What the hell’s going on?” he demanded. Then he saw the revolver. “Oh shit! Enoch, you gone mad?” Enoch ignored him and backed away, holding Tatwa as a shield between himself and the others.
He carefully made the hundred yards to the jetty. The others moved forward in a circle but did not crowd him. They had no doubt that he would kill Tatwa as a last resort. Enoch worked his way to the camp’s motorboat.
“Put the backpack in the boat.” While Tatwa did so, Enoch untied the boat and pushed it out. The gun never wavered from Tatwa. “Now wade out and get in, slowly.” Tatwa knelt to undo his sneakers, but Enoch shoved him so hard he nearly fell. “Forget your shoes! Get in the boat!” Tatwa waded out, and Enoch followed. His attention was now on Kubu and the others, and he pointed the gun at them. But Tatwa was climbing gingerly into the launch and did not notice that. A moment later, Enoch was in the boat with him, the gun at Tatwa’s head again. In those few seconds, Constable Tau had got his gun unholstered and had it behind his back, waiting for a chance. Enoch would need both hands to start the outboard motor. But Enoch inserted the ignition keys. “You do it,” he told Tatwa.
Tatwa looked at him and at the revolver. He knew this was going to end badly. He might as well make his play now. “No,” he said.
Enoch looked at him, sensing the resolution. “Okay,” he said. “Then we’re stuck here. That’s the idea, isn’t it? Sooner or later one of them shoots me, and it’s over?” Tatwa said nothing. “I told them to stay at the dining area,” Enoch continued, indicating the policemen on the shore. “But they don’t listen either. So start the motor. The fat detective is in range. I’m a dead shot with a revolver. You want to try me?” Tatwa said nothing, holding his ground. Kubu was well back.
“Superintendent,” shouted Enoch. “Come here. I want to make a deal. The others stay back. Not a step closer.” Kubu moved gingerly forward until he was near the boat. “What’s the deal?”
“Tell him to start the motor. Otherwise I shoot you both. I can kill you before they get me. Easy.” Kubu considered the situation. “Start the motor, Tatwa,” he said.
Tatwa considered, too. Then he leaned forward and with three sharp jerks started the outboard. It roared. Two large crocodiles, disturbed, exited the sandbank into the water. Enoch guided the boat slowly into the lagoon. “Sit on the edge,” he told Tatwa, indicating the side of the boat with the gun.
“So when you shoot me, I’ll fall over? No. I’ll stay here. You can have a dead body weighing down your boat, if that’s what you want.”
“If you do what I say, I promise I won’t shoot you. I swear it on my ancestors,” said Enoch. Tatwa looked into Enoch’s eyes, strangely believing him. He shrugged and perched on the side of the boat. The next moment Enoch jumped forward and shoved him off into the water. Then he opened the throttle, and the boat jerked forward.
Tatwa had not expected this. He should have, but he had focused on the gun. The water closed over his head, and he held his breath, panicked. He could not swim. And there were crocodiles! His head broke the surface, and he heard shots. Constable Tau had run to the bank and had fired at Enoch, who had retaliated by firing back not at Tau but at Tatwa. Tatwa heard the whine of the bullet. Tatwa churned with his feet and yelled. “Help! Help! I can’t swim! The crocodiles, oh God, the crocodiles!” His head went below the water again, and he choked.
Kubu was at the water’s edge too. He shoved Tau toward the police launch. “He’ll drown! Forget Enoch. Get Tatwa!” He fumbled in his pocket, coming up with the launch’s keys. “Thank God!” he said tossing them to Tau.
Tau grabbed them, ran to the dock, and jumped into the boat. He started it with one pull, threw off the tie rope, and headed out into the lagoon at full throttle. Tatwa was thrashing in the water, trying not to sink.
“Tatwa!” Kubu shouted. “Kick off your shoes. They’re pulling you down. Lie on your back. You’ll float!”
Tatwa tried to obey the conflicting instructions, but the shoes were laced on and wouldn’t kick off and, when he tried to float on his back, they dragged him under. He flailed his arms, tried to pull himself up, and took a lungful of water. He was coughing again and starting to panic. Oh God, where were the crocodiles?
But Tau was nearly there. In fact, he cut the motor too late and realized he would drift past. He leaned out holding an oar. “Grab it, Tatwa, grab it!” But it was just out of reach.
Suddenly Tatwa felt something large and solid rub his leg. Perhaps it was a submerged log. But maybe not…
With a high-pitched scream, he flung himself forward, aw
ay, kicking the thing behind him. Miraculously, that propelled him toward the boat, allowing him to grasp the oar, and climb it toward the boat. He nearly pulled Tau into the water, and between them they almost capsized the boat. They landed in a heap in the middle, as it swayed wildly from side to side, taking water. Tatwa was still screaming, but Tau put a hand over his mouth. Slowly the boat settled.
Tatwa huddled in the middle of the boat, shivering. Tau asked him if he was okay, but Tatwa just looked at him. “It was a crocodile,” he said. His teeth started to chatter.
Against all the odds, Tatwa’s St. Louis hat floated next to the boat. “Your lucky hat!” Tau exclaimed. Tatwa ignored it, so Tau leaned over, scooped it up, and tossed it into the boat. It floated. He realized the water in the boat was above his ankles. Chasing Enoch was out of the question. With a couple of solid pulls, he got the motor going and headed for the group on the shore.
Tau ran the boat aground, cut the motor, and Kubu helped Tatwa out. “My friend, you gave us a bad scare. You need a change of clothes and a stiff whisky. In that order. Come on.” Tatwa shook his head, dripping. “It was definitely a crocodile,” he said. “A huge one.” He was starting to feel ashamed of the panic that had probably saved his life. “My brother was just ten years old,” he added. Kubu was puzzled, but didn’t pursue it.
They could still hear the distant sound of Enoch’s motorboat, which had disappeared around a bend upstream. Enoch and his backpack—presumably stuffed with Goodluck’s money—were gone. He had miles of the Caprivi on the Namibian side, and miles of wild Linyanti on the Botswanan side, in which to disappear.
Chapter 73
While Tatwa showered and changed and regained his composure, Kubu was in contact with the CID in Kasane. They promised to contact the Defense Force and get a spotter plane into the area as soon as possible. With low passes over the river, they would certainly pick up Enoch if the boat was still on the water. But it would take at least an hour. They would see what could be done about a helicopter. Once Enoch was found, they needed to be able to get on the ground to arrest him.
A Carrion Death & The 2nd Death of Goodluck Tinubu Page 78
