Gobey shook his head firmly and started to cough. When he was able to catch his breath, he said, “No one else. What I say is between the three of us. No one else. Do I have your word on that?” He looked from the one to the other, his resolve still firm despite his failing health.
Reluctantly, Kubu and Mabaku agreed. “But,” Kubu added, “if keeping this secret means we are breaking the law, then our promises fall away.” This time it was Gobey who was reluctantly forced to agree.
“Well then,” said Mabaku. “Tell us what it is that you know.”
AFTER GOBEY LEFT, KUBU returned to his chair. He wasn’t satisfied. “He knows more than he’s telling us. I don’t believe him, do you?”
Mabaku clasped his hands and thought for so long that Kubu thought he wasn’t going to answer. At last he replied, “Yes, I do.”
Kubu shook his head. “This witch doctor was recommended to him long ago—he won’t say who by—and he’s used him occasionally over the years. Nothing serious. But the man is always masked, he’s never seen the face, and he has no idea of his identity. But now, suddenly, he suspects him of black magic involving organs ripped from living children!” Kubu couldn’t contain himself. “And he deduces this from what he hears last week from some other unnamed party! Isn’t it possible that he knows about these things because he’s the one who’s been involved?”
Mabaku nodded. “But you don’t know him as I do, Kubu. He’s personally transformed much of the police force. His example has become our example. I hear a lot of stuff, Kubu. Lots of rumors about senior people. Some of them are just malicious, others are plausible but impossible to prove at the time, and I keep my eyes open. But I’ve never heard anything bad about Deputy Commissioner Gobey. Nothing.”
“Until today.”
“Yes, but remember, he’s about to retire. He could’ve walked away and said nothing. No one would have been any the wiser.”
“Maybe he’s being blackmailed.”
“Because of a few good-luck charms? And now some cough medicine? Half of Botswana’s done something like that.”
“We don’t know what those charms and potions were for or what they were made from.”
“No, and neither did he at the time.”
Kubu mulled it over. His intuition told him that Gobey was deeper in the mire than he’d admitted. But he couldn’t refute Mabaku’s point: Gobey had come forward of his own free will. There was no reason for him to put himself at risk by revealing what he knew.
“What should we do?”
“Exactly what he proposed. You let him set up a meeting with the witch doctor. Get a team together, follow him without telling the team who they’re following, and put a steel noose around that house. Arrest the witch doctor and sweat him. They’re all cowards; he’ll break.”
“What if he doesn’t?”
“Then we have another talk with the deputy commissioner.”
Kubu nodded. They had nothing to lose. “What do I tell Samantha? She’ll be convinced we’re simply protecting another senior man.”
Mabaku smiled tightly. “Well, we are, aren’t we? Tell her you’re the superior officer.”
You don’t know Samantha very well, Director, Kubu thought. That’s going to be an interesting meeting.
“Very well, I’ll set it up.” Kubu wondered why this potential breakthrough had such a bitter taste.
Mabaku nodded, went to the window, and gazed out at Kgale Hill, highlighted by the rich afternoon light.
THIRTY-ONE
“IT’S AMAZING!” KUBU SAID to Samantha. They were sitting in Kubu’s office, each with a cup of tea.
“It’s amazing. Just a few years ago, getting the results of a DNA test could take months. Now Zanele is using a mobile tester that takes only four hours. The South Africans have brought it to show us. It’s from the UK, apparently. She’s already run the tests from Marumo’s muti and compared the results with samples taken from Lesego’s sister. The sad thing is that based on the closeness of the results, she’s confident that the muti involved material from Lesego.”
“So Marumo had muti with Lesego’s body parts in his house!” Samantha had a look of sheer disgust on her face. Then it turned to anger. “Another girl killed to promote a man!”
“It looks like that. But we can’t jump to conclusions yet.”
“Why not?” Samantha exclaimed. “You found the gourd in a locked drawer! In his house! With bits of Lesego in it!”
“True, but we don’t know whether it was there for a while or possibly put there to incriminate him. We have to assume that the conspiracy theory we talked about could actually be true.”
He took a sip of tea. “It’s possible that someone planted the muti before or after the murder. Remember the scuff marks around the desk drawer lock? It’s unlikely, but possible. We have to keep that in mind.”
“Even if that’s so, Lesego was still murdered for muti.”
Kubu sighed. “Unfortunately, that’s true.” He thought for a moment about his beautiful Tumi and her friend Nono. How could anybody even think about hurting someone like them? He shook his head. “We’re going to do everything possible to solve these cases. We have to put a stop to this terrible practice.”
Samantha took a deep breath. “All right. Let’s get to work.”
Kubu stood up to refill the cups. When he returned, he sat down and asked, “What did you find out about the rental cars?”
“I just received the final lists this morning. There are a lot of rental cars that are white and fewer that are red. It took so long because there’s a lot of manual stuff for the companies to do. They can easily print out the make of car and model, the license plate numbers, and who rented it, but not the color. So they have to write in those details by hand. They all say it took too much of their time. But they did it.”
“Anything interesting from what you’ve got so far?”
“There were only two people who appeared on both lists. One was a South African salesman from Cape Town. He flew in via Johannesburg the day before Lesego was abducted and flew back the day she was abducted. I don’t think he could have been in Mochudi when Lesego disappeared and still make his flight. I spoke to him and got a list of his appointments. I’ll check those out, but I don’t think it will go anywhere. The other was the BMW dealership in Gaborone. They have a deal with Avis. If they don’t have a spare loaner, they sometimes rent a car as a courtesy for their customers when their car is being serviced.”
“That’s not promising. Have you had a chance to look at the people who were only on one list?”
“Yes, but it will take time to speak to each of them. I’ve asked Detective Pho to help me with that.”
“Good work. Now I have something to tell you.” Kubu was not looking forward to this.
“An informant has come forward and says he can lead us to a witch doctor who deals with human body parts.”
Samantha leaned forward expectantly.
“We’ll know today or tomorrow when that is going to happen.”
“When can we speak to the informant? Who is it?” Kubu thought Samantha was going to start vibrating, she was so eager.
“Unfortunately there’s a problem. The informant wants to remain anonymous for reasons I can’t disclose.”
Kubu could see the anger welling up inside Samantha. “I know who he is!” she snapped. “It’s a man, and high up in government. He can’t be named because it would be embarrassing to him and his friends.” She jumped up. “Here we go again. And you said you wanted to solve these muti murders. You’re the same as the rest of them!” Samantha turned and stormed out of the room.
AN HOUR LATER, KUBU picked up his phone and dialed Samantha’s extension.
“Please come to my office. We need to talk.”
A few minutes later, she knocked and walked in. Kubu waved at a chair.
“I’m sorry I walked out on you,” Samantha said quietly. “I get so angry when I see the same old ways being repeated. We’ll neve
r get any of these people if that continues.” She sat down.
“I understand how you feel,” Kubu said. “But you will have to trust me on this one. If it makes a difference in getting a witch doctor convicted, we will reveal the informant’s name, and he’s agreed to testify. But it would be better if it didn’t come to that.”
He looked at Samantha, who sat without saying a word.
“Samantha, you’re crucial to our investigations. You have the drive and will to succeed. I want you to continue what you’re doing. I want you to come with me when we try to apprehend the witch doctor. But in this instance, I’m in charge. That’s not negotiable.”
Again, he looked directly at her. “Is that clear?”
He could see her fighting to control her emotions. Eventually she stood up and nodded. Then she turned and left.
Kubu sat for a while wondering whether Samantha would have the resilience to stay and work in the inhospitable environment that was the CID.
She will, he thought. She’s tough and very determined to make a difference.
He smiled.
She’s going to be a good detective.
THIRTY-TWO
KUBU WAS NOT HAPPY. He was cramped in the passenger seat of Samantha’s Corolla with a tub of KFC chicken on his lap, and Samantha was barely on speaking terms with him. But the main source of his concern was their location. It was a poor area, a warren of dirt roads without street lighting. He was convinced there were ways in and out that he didn’t know about. And they were much closer to the witch doctor’s “safe house” than he would have liked, but he was concerned about getting to it quickly in the dark on the rough streets. Gobey had said he could look after himself—he was, after all, a policeman—but Kubu knew he was weakened by his illness. He wanted to be able to come to the deputy commissioner’s aid quickly, if necessary.
Samantha knew none of this and was angry about being kept in the dark, untrusted. He offered her a piece of chicken, but she just shook her head. Kubu shrugged and went on eating. It was their camouflage in case anyone suspected them of being watchers. They’d simply pulled off the road to eat. That had been Kubu’s idea. Two armed constables in plain clothes sat in the back, working through their own tub.
“What happens if your informant gives us the slip?” Samantha asked. “We’d lose him in a minute in this.” She waved at the dusty tracks wandering between the tiny houses and shacks.
“I told you. He’s wired. I’m in constant contact with him through this.” He indicated the headset he was wearing. “And anyway he volunteered for this. He’s not some informer that I bought.” Kubu tried to keep the defensive tone out of his voice. “All we have to do is wait. When he gets the signal from the house, he’ll go in and keep the witch doctor occupied while we get there, and our second car comes from the other main road. Then we surround the house and go in. He’ll have to really make himself invisible to get away. And we’re covering the two main roads into the township; what can go wrong?”
“We’ll see just now,” Samantha grumbled.
Kubu frowned and helped himself to another drumstick. He knew Joy wouldn’t be impressed, but with Samantha not eating, he had to keep up their cover.
“Bengu. Come in.” Gobey’s voice suddenly came through the earpiece, startling Kubu. He switched on his mike and responded.
“Yes,” said Gobey. “I’m outside the house. All quiet and dark. But that’s how he operates. Always makes you wait, makes sure you know he’s the important one. We may have to hang on half an hour. Just be patient.” He sounded nervous.
“No problem. I’ll keep monitoring you.” Kubu muted his mike and radioed the driver of the other car to relay the message. Kubu was worried about Gobey. He was alone and sick, bait for a man who might well be a psychopathic killer as well as a witch doctor. He felt new respect for the deputy commissioner. Whatever he’d done in the past, he was carrying through on his promise.
AS TIME PASSED, KUBU could feel tension building up in his belly—unless that was the tub of KFC he’d eaten. Samantha was still monosyllabic. Couldn’t she see they were on the same side? Yet he had some sympathy for her attitude. How would he feel if Mabaku came up with an informant on one of his cases and refused to share that information with him? He kept his temper.
Time dragged, and Kubu brooded. What if they did catch this man? It wouldn’t end the foul trade in human flesh. But if this was the man Mma Gondo had talked about—the invisible killer, feared even by other witch doctors—and if he could be brought down and sent to the gallows, then all of them would feel vulnerable. The killing wouldn’t stop, but maybe it would be forced outside the borders of Botswana. That would be something.
Kubu checked his watch. Patience had never been his strongest suit; the lack of it had got him into big trouble in the Kalahari. At last Gobey’s voice came again.
“There’s no sign of him, Bengu. He’s never kept me waiting this long—over an hour now. I think he’s spooked. Did you see anything?”
“Nothing suspicious. A few people walking down the road. We sat here pretending to be eating chicken.” Samantha snorted at the word pretending.
“Did the same person come past more than once?”
“Not as far as we could tell. But it’s dark, and we didn’t want to be too obviously nosy.”
“Where are the others?”
“They’re waiting at the turnoff on the main road.”
Gobey sighed. “Somehow he realized you were police. That’s the only possibility.” He hesitated, and then burst out, “Of course! That’s why he always comes late. He watches the routes in. Stupid of us not to realize that. I thought it was all part of his act.” He started to cough.
“Let’s go home,” he said when he’d caught his breath. “We won’t find him tonight. He was too smart for us. This time.”
Kubu turned to Samantha. “My informant thinks the suspect caught on that we were watching. Maybe that’s why he always keeps his clients waiting.”
“So what now?”
“We call it off. We’ll have to come up with a Plan B.” He called the other car and told them to head back to the police station at once. He wanted them out of the way before the deputy commissioner’s car headed down the road.
Suddenly Samantha turned to him and indicated he should switch off his mike. When he’d done so, she said, “Kubu, it’s all a ploy. You won’t tell me what you’ve got on this guy, but I bet he never set up a meeting at all! It’s just a hoax to get you off his back. I say we pull him in. Right now. And see what he knows that he’s not telling you.”
Kubu thought about it. Was Gobey leading them up the garden path? Wasting their time? Even covering for the witch doctor? But for what reason? He approached us. We have nothing on him. He shook his head.
“Let’s get back to the police station, Samantha, drop off these guys, and pick up my car. There’s nothing more we can do tonight. That’s final.”
Samantha started the car, slammed it into gear, put her foot down, and did a screeching U-turn. Kubu hastily fastened his seat belt.
THIRTY-THREE
THE NEXT MORNING MABAKU, Kubu, and Gobey met again in the director’s office. Gobey wanted to avoid meeting in his own office. Mabaku asked Miriam to bring them tea and coffee, and cookies for Kubu, and they didn’t talk until she had served and closed the door behind her.
“What now?” Mabaku asked.
“The deputy commissioner and I think that the witch doctor smelled a rat,” said Kubu. “I think we should follow up on the leads the deputy commissioner has given us. We’ll keep a watch on the house, but I doubt the witch doctor will go back there now. We’ll also trace its owner—it’s not going to be the witch doctor, I’m sure—and check for fingerprints and other forensics stuff. We’ll do that discreetly. We’ll also make some inquiries around the area, see if anyone’s seen a man who doesn’t live around there but visits from time to time.”
Gobey nodded. “That sounds right. I’ll contact the witc
h doctor again. Ask why he didn’t appear. Play dumb.”
“How do you make that contact?” Mabaku asked quietly.
Gobey hesitated.
“Deputy Commissioner, you’re going to have to tell us anything that might help.”
Gobey nodded and sighed. “I send an e-mail to what appears to be a secure address. Here it is.” He pulled a small sheet of paper from his pocket and handed it to Mabaku. “He doesn’t respond to it, but he phones me a day or so later. Usually he just tells me the time to come to the house.”
“We can trace the calls to your cell phone,” said Kubu.
Gobey shook his head. “I’ve done that; they come from public phones all over the place. One even from Mochudi.”
Kubu sat forward, thinking of Lesego. “Even so, we need that information. We might be able to detect a pattern from the location of the calls. And we’ll need to arrange a twenty-four-hour monitor on the calls you receive. With your permission, of course.”
Gobey nodded. He was beginning to regret his decision to tell Mabaku his story, but he was in too deep to back out now. “I’ll get you all that information,” he said.
Kubu decided to push his luck. “And we’re going to have to bring Detective Khama in on this. She’s working on the case and can’t be kept in the dark.”
Gobey turned to him angrily. “No! We agreed no one else. And especially not a woman.”
Kubu didn’t like that, but he was forced to accept it.
AS SOON AS THE deputy commissioner had left, Mabaku and Kubu discussed Gobey’s reluctance to allow anyone else to be involved.
“I know you’re skeptical,” Mabaku said, “but you’re going to have to trust me that he’s honest. He’s put himself in a very vulnerable spot and is scared of losing his reputation before he retires.”
“Okay,” Kubu replied, standing up to leave. “Let me check on that e-mail address he gave you. That could be very helpful indeed. I’ll call the IT guys in Forensics right away to find out more about it. I’ll let you know.”
Deadly Harvest: A Detective Kubu Mystery Page 17
