The Leopard's Prey Part 17

"SAM, ARE YOU awake? My stars, man, you had us worried."

The familiar voice completely disoriented Sam. He stared at his visitor, blinking stupidly, his mouth agape. Finally he managed to croak out one word: "Avery?"

"Well, you recognize me at least. That's something. You look like b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l."

Sam's mind worked feverishly to reconcile the facts with this visit. Avery was in London. Avery was talking to him. I'm in London?

"Am I dying?"

Avery laughed. "No, man. Just a nasty run of malaria. You'll be right as rain in no time." He patted Sam's shoulder. "Don't blow a gasket trying to make sense of it. I didn't come all the way to Nairobi just to see you. Beverly and I came back because we couldn't stand London anymore. Arrived yesterday just in time to have Neville drop in trying to find Jade. Told us you had collapsed in a raging fever."

Sam groaned. "No wonder . . . I feel like . . . something the mule pa.s.sed."

"You need some water," said Avery. "Nurse, here please. Bring this man some water."

"There's water in the pitcher there, sir."

"Yes, and it's been sitting here so long it's got fish swimming in it. Now fetch something fresher. Come along, look sharp." He held out the pitcher. "That's a girl."

The nurse grabbed the pitcher and ran off, seemingly eager to put distance between herself and the imperious man in the chair.

"Jade?" asked Sam.

"She came right away. I a.s.sume she spent the night by your side. Probably off somewhere trying to take a nap." The nurse returned with the refilled pitcher. "Nurse," said Avery, "when did the young lady who was sitting here leave?"

"I wouldn't know, sir. I only came on duty an hour ago. There was no one here then."

Avery poured a gla.s.s of water for Sam and held it while he drank. When Sam was finished, he sank deeper into his pillow.

"Buck up, man. She'll be back," said Avery.

"This is Monday?" Sam asked. Avery nodded. Sam sighed. "I was supposed to be flying this morning. Scouting for a rhino. This just cost me a lot of money."

"It's only money. If they really want their blasted rhino, they'll wait and give you another crack at it. After all, it's even more money for them at the end of the line."

Sam shook his head. "They have to ship out soon. Costs too much to wait around." He closed his eyes. "Simple matter of economics." He wondered how long Jade had stayed. He a.s.sumed she'd reported to work for Daley and Perkins. Otherwise, Avery would have run into her at his house. In his mind, he could picture her standing by his plane, a stray black curl peeking out from under her soft leather helmet, the chin strap undone. She would be laughing at something, her joy a matter of expectation as they prepared to free themselves from gravity and all their mortal ties to earth. He felt the need to take her in his arms and kiss her. A gentle punch on the arm roused him.

"Sam, perk up. The doctor said you can leave tomorrow, a.s.suming you look a little less like h.e.l.l. I'll bring round my shaving kit before then."

"What time is it?" Sam asked.

Avery pulled out a gold pocket watch. "Pushing nine o'clock. Tried to see you earlier but you were sound asleep and the nurse wouldn't let me in." He stood to leave. "This nurse is all set to run me out already, but I'll be back later and see you all ready for inspection. Oh! I'm supposed to tell you that Beverly apologizes for not being here or sending a pudding or some other concoction. She's interviewing cooks today, so we'll be lucky if we get anything to eat ourselves. She said to tell you she sends her love."

Sam managed a thin smile. "Tell her thanks. I should have asked you how she's doing."

"Healthy as a horse and swelling like a hippopotamus. Now you get some sleep. Ah, here comes your nurse with some lovely gruel." He leaned close to Sam's ear. "I know it's tasteless swill, but take it like a man. I'll try to get back today if I can. Maybe round up a roast chicken?"

"Bring Jade with you."

"I shouldn't think I'll have to. I'll wager she'll be here before the afternoon's out."

JADE DRIFTED IN and out of consciousness, her thoughts meandering like an aged river. At times she felt a breeze caress her cheek and thought she was still flying. Then, at the drone of a fly buzzing about her forehead, she returned to the war and heard the Sopwith Camels pa.s.s overhead on their way to the front lines.

She fell asleep, and dreamed of a rearing stallion, pawing the air above Maddy's pregnant body. No, it wasn't Maddy. It was some little blond woman, Mrs. Stokes. The zebra looked sleek and muscular. Then someone rode up on a polo pony and swept the woman away just as the deadly hooves crashed to earth and hammered into Martin Stokes instead.

In a moment the scene changed and Jade was trapped. Through the shadows she detected a pair of pale yellow eyes, snapping cold fire and madness. A leopard? She heard the old blind woman's warning, but there was nowhere to go. The furious animal snarled inches from her face and Jade screamed.

She woke with a start and jerked upright, her own cries ringing in her ears. Momentarily disoriented, she looked around for anything familiar. The problem was, she couldn't recollect what should be familiar. Ambulances and trenches? Her head cleared a bit more. No, that was behind her. Nairobi? The Thompsons' house? Her right hand rested on the side of the c.o.c.kpit.

Sam's plane!

Jade tried to stand, only to be jerked back by a sharp pull to the stomach. The restraints. Her hands fumbled with the buckle.

Don't let the plane be wrecked. Don't let the plane be wrecked!

The restraint came free. Jade clambered over the side and slid to the ground. Her knees buckled under her, and she plopped onto her backside. Her head throbbed and she felt a knot on her temple. Ouch! Better not get up too fast. She noted, while she was on the ground, that the plane's fuselage, what she could see of it at least, was intact. The underbelly looked good even if her landing approach didn't.

From her position, a line of scarred earth and flattened gra.s.ses appeared to have been plowed by a drunken farmer. What the h.e.l.l happened? She remembered the engine's seductive purr and peering over the side, the slipstream rushing past her ear. The engine had coughed, chugging once like an old man clearing his throat. Then that empty silence such as humans rarely heard except on mountaintops with the rest of the world far away.

"I couldn't have run out of fuel. I'd only been in the air an hour at the most." She should have been able to return with fuel to spare. Jade pulled off her pilot's helmet, releasing a mop of damp black waves. She felt dehydrated, so she stepped onto the stirrup and grabbed her supplies from behind the seat. A long pull of water did a lot toward clearing her head. Jade followed it with a strip of jerky. Then, still chewing, she walked around the plane, examining it carefully.

Everything looked good, and she was just about to feel a bit better when she saw the rip in the right lower wing, where a sharp rock had cut into it.

h.e.l.l's bells and little fishes! The rent was less than five inches long, but that was more than she was willing to chance in the air again. a.s.suming she could get in the air again. Why had the plane acted as if it had had no fuel? She'd watched Kimathi fill the tank. Was there too much water in there? No, she'd drained it off before starting.

Well, there was only one way to check. It was now pushing four o'clock. She'd been unconscious for the better part of the day. Maybe the engine had cooled enough for water to settle. Judging by the high air temperature, she doubted it, but she had to do something. She scrambled up on the wing walk and leaned into the front c.o.c.kpit to retrieve a small set of tools from under the seat. Then Jade took the cap off her canteen, went to the front, and carefully cracked open the bottom drain valve, preparing to capture a little water or fuel in the cap.

Nothing came out at first; then she saw a drop form around a thin green tip. Jade pulled out a fragment of gra.s.s. More fuel dribbled out, so Jade captured some before closing the valve. When she looked at it, she saw some fine sediment.

Someone contaminated the fuel.

But that didn't make sense. True, it may have taken a while for enough sediment to settle down the gravity-fed line to clog it, but it should have happened before she even hit Fort Hall. She dug her flashlight from her bag, stepped back up onto the lower wing walk, and climbed into the front c.o.c.kpit. From there she shinnied over the windshield and stood, straddling the plane to get a look down into the gas tank. What she saw horrified her.

A thin string hung down inside the tank, stuck gingerly to the lip with the smallest dab of gum arabic. She pulled up the string and found a partially dissolved paper mesh, like a tea bag, dangling at the other end. Inside was a lump of crumbling mud and gra.s.s, leaching out a tiny rip in the bottom. It was a b.o.o.by trap, set to release sediments after the plane had been aloft for a time.

Jade sat down in the shade of a wing to contemplate the ramifications. Someone had tried to kill her. Why? Who? Wait. Slow down. That was not the only possibility. Maybe someone wanted only to prevent her from taking off. Either way, this person had played with her life. Cracking up on takeoff could have had its own share of disasters. Was that the intent? To damage the plane so she couldn't fly? Then why not just take a knife and slice the wing's skin or snap a spar? No, the saboteur likely intended for the plane to take off and then crash.

You're not the target.

Sam was supposed to fly this morning. She wasn't even sure anyone else knew she was going along. So who wanted Sam dead and why?

Jade stood and paced, her nervous energy about to explode. She took a deep breath and forced herself to slow down. Think! Who knew Sam was flying?

As far as she knew, only Mr. Perkins or Mr. Daley. She had the information from Sam because she hadn't been there when one or the other of them offered him the job. There could have been any number of people within earshot.

Anderson? He might have been with his boss. He certainly didn't like Sam, but Jade couldn't imagine him hating Sam enough to want to kill him. Then again, maybe he'd only intended the plane to sputter to a stop on takeoff.

She thought back to the Sunday afternoon when they had been loading the zebra. Anderson had come on his own in a different, smaller truck. And he was late. Had he been back at the hangar then?

None of this helped her situation. Sam was in the hospital with malaria and she was stuck several miles from Naivasha. Not only couldn't she bring back word on the rhino calf-she couldn't pa.s.s on this information to Sam or Inspector Finch. If someone was trying to kill Sam, he could still be in danger.

Why would anyone want to kill Sam? Her mind turned to Anderson again, the only person she knew who had displayed any animosity toward Sam. Stokes drowned in cattle dip. There's cattle dip at our animal compound. Jade stopped dead in her tracks. Had Anderson killed Stokes? Was he pinning the blame on Sam? I've got to tell Finch.

Jade climbed back up to the rear c.o.c.kpit and retrieved the map and Sam's logbook. She'd seen a farmhouse near Mount Longonot. Could she reach it and get help? She located Mount Longonot and then tried to pinpoint her own location. She knew she was somewhere in the area the old-timers called h.e.l.l's Gate, an area frequented by Maasai.

The Maasai didn't worry her. Well, not much anyway. Cattle disease had taken a toll on the tribe and now they dwelt relatively peacefully in their reserve. Of course, she'd just landed on the edge of it. If her estimated position was correct, she was probably seven miles west of that farmhouse. That meant seven miles of wildlife, and she had no weapon other than the knife in her boot.

The long shadows told her that she was fast running out of daylight. She also worried that there wouldn't be much of a plane left when she eventually returned. By the time the giraffes and other herbivores got done chewing on the doped-up linen skin, some Cape buffalo would probably decide that the wooden frame looked like a dandy back scratcher.

Get ahold of yourself. Sam's safe in the hospital. You're safe in the plane, and the plane's safer with you guarding it. Besides, Kimathi would tell Neville and Maddy that she wasn't back and they'd send someone to find her. And how will they do that if they don't know where to look?

That momentary panic was eased when she remembered that Sam would tell them his flying plans. So it seemed there was nothing to do but get comfortable and wait. Jade's stomach growled and she pulled out another chunk of jerky. She also found Sam's flight jacket in the front c.o.c.kpit and put it on.

Maybe I should start a fire. Right. With my luck, I'll burn up the plane.

Instead, she pulled out the logbook and browsed through it. Sam had made notations on the scenery and wildlife from each of his flights, some with a little camera drawn in the margins to indicate what would make good aerial footage. He'd been over Thompson falls, noted a hippo pool along the Tana, and jotted notes on some of the more picturesque farms worth filming. Harding's sisal fields didn't show as well from the air as Chalmers' maize. In the margins by Harding's farm, Sam noted a pet zebra trying to mate with a horse. Chalmers' polo ponies and exercise area seemed promising for footage, as did the sheep pens. Following that were notes on aerial Nairobi, including the busy rail yards. Jade shut the book and put it away.

A jackal yapped somewhere to the north, and followed it with an explosive bwaa. Jade worried about the rhino calf. From what she had seen, it was not an infant by any means, so it might be able to defend itself should a family of jackals find it. She wondered what other predators wandered among the game and decided she'd best be prepared. In the final hours of daylight, Jade gathered up a pile of rocks and set them carefully on the footboard inside the c.o.c.kpit. Then she settled in to wait out the night.

THE NURSE FIRST dosed Sam with that hideous quinine concoction, then insisted on watching him swallow every bland spoonful of the flavorless oatmeal and cold toast.

"Has anyone else been by to see me?" he asked.

The nurse nodded. "Lord Dunbury stopped again. Tried to bring some chicken. You were asleep, so I sent him and his chicken packing."

Sam sighed. Why hadn't Jade come back? The nurse fluffed his pillows, took his pulse, and gave him a drink of water. As he drifted off to sleep, he thought he saw her stoop and pick up a bit of paper from under the bed.

SOMETHING LARGE TROTTED to Jade's right an hour before sunset. She felt the vibrations first, which translated into gentle shudders in the c.o.c.kpit. She opened her eyes and caught a bulky shadow gliding parallel to the plane. Buffalo. Maybe a few fires wouldn't be such a bad idea after all, especially if someone came looking for her. Besides, she needed something to do. Just sitting in Sam's grounded plane made her uncomfortable. It focused her attention on the last time she had seen him and his frightfully gaunt face.

Jade climbed back out of the plane and set to work gathering stones for a fire ring. She didn't need to look far. There were dozens of big ones less than seventy yards from the plane. She made several trips and lugged back enough volcanic debris and another armload of dried branches to make three rings about a foot in diameter each. She placed one several feet in front of each wing tip and another past the tail.

The sun's bottom just kissed the horizon. She had about ten minutes of daylight left before she was plunged into the dark African night. There was no dusk this close to the equator. Knife in hand, she slashed off every dead branch she could find and several greener ones. Her boot kicked a dried buffalo chip and she made a search for them, retrieving more than a dozen. Then, just as the sun set, she pulled a match from her bag and lit the first fire.

Above her, the stars made their appearance as she lit the last stack of wood and dried dung. The dried chips burned, but the fire didn't produce much light. Well, it would have to do. She didn't have anything else to contribute.

A few glowing eyes blinked in the dark. One stared long enough that she hurled one of her smaller rocks at it. The jackal yelped and ran off. In the distance, a hippo splashed its way onto sh.o.r.e for a nocturnal feed. Another pair of eyes blinked from the underbrush as the animal coughed. Jade felt the hair on her arms stand on end.

Leopard? She pulled her flashlight from the bag and played it over the gra.s.s. The little spotted genet blinked, hissed, and ran away.

Jade shut off the light and told herself to relax. There weren't supposed to be many large predators out here. But every pair of glowing eyes made Jade think of the leopard. He's in a cage in Nairobi, for the love of Pete. Why did she feel as if she was losing her nerve? She'd been in the bush alone before.

Yeah, but always with a tent and gear and always because it was where you planned to be. This time you're stuck because you cracked up Sam's plane. She reminded herself that it wasn't really cracked up. The rip could be easily fixed with some good linen cloth and glue. And once they drained the fuel tank and cleaned out the line, it would fly good as new. She climbed back into the plane and tried to lean back and look up at the brightening constellations, not an easy trick in a cramped c.o.c.kpit. Seeing the black sky made her think of Sam. He has eyes like that.

She missed him and wished he was with her to share the night sky. She wanted to sit beside him by a decent fire and feel his strong arm around her shoulders. She wanted to hear his laugh and have him sing one of his funny old songs in that gravelly deep ba.s.s. Avery had once laughed at Sam's singing voice, said it sounded like a bull elephant grumbling, but Jade liked it. It had a raspy, scratchy undertone, which, while not musical, was intriguing. She had told Sam his voice reminded her of olives. You either liked them or you didn't, and if you did, you weren't sure why, but you did for the very reason that they had an indescribably distinct taste.

Sam. She'd hated to leave his side this morning; he had looked so pallid and broken. Her mind fretted, thinking of the worst possible ramifications of malaria. Some forms flared with alarming frequency. Others ended in the deadly blackwater fever. As she prayed for Sam's health, she realized how much he meant to her. She knew then that losing him would turn Africa into an empty place, one she'd never feel at home in again.

He'll be fine, she told herself. Probably never have another attack. But what then? Before, at the Thompsons', he'd seemed upset and at least part of that emotion was directed at her. Was it simply a result of his illness, or because she'd danced with Anderson? Either way, she'd find out what this shauri was about. She'd do that just as soon as she cleared Sam's name of those murder suspicions. And how do I do that when I'm stuck out here?

Jade closed her eyes and drifted to sleep. Maybe it was a change in the predawn air or the faint whiff of tanned leather and ocher in the air, but Jade woke to the p.r.i.c.kly sensation that she was being watched.

She was surrounded by nine Maasai warriors.

CHAPTER 14.

Mature warriors and junior elders, acting as mentors, live in the manyatta,

where these "fire-stick elders" teach the warriors about Maasai customs.

Joining them are the warriors' mothers and a few girlfriends.

No uninitiated boys may enter.

-The Traveler THE NURSE MUST have slipped him some sort of sedative, for Sam didn't wake up again until just before daybreak. Promptly at five a.m., Avery reappeared with his shaving kit, a mirror, and half a roasted chicken. The latter was tucked into a napkin in his kit.

"Had to sneak it past the ward nurse. Quick, eat while she's still at her desk."

Sam glanced at the nurse at the far end of the room. She sat hunched over some paperwork, writing. He devoured one leg quarter and a part of the breast without taking his eyes off her. As soon as Sam finished, Avery wrapped the remainder of the chicken in the napkin and shoved it back into the recesses of the leather kit. Then he whipped up some lather in a mug.

"Can you do this, or shall I act as barber?" Avery asked.

"I'll do it," said Sam. "If that doctor comes back round, I want to look fit enough to get out of here. You might take off half my mustache."

Avery held the mirror while Sam lathered up and then carefully swiped the thin blade over his face. He took extra care around his mustache, keeping it to a thin line. When he was through, he felt more tired, but less diseased.