The Leopard's Prey Part 24

He'd seen the look on Jade's face when she left this morning. He knew the set of that mouth and the snap of those eyes. She had every intention of flying back with him, as if he still needed mothering. Probably would have insisted that Avery fly back and she drive me home with a blanket tucked around my lap.

Well, he'd told her no and he'd meant it. No one was going to risk themselves in his plane until he was absolutely certain they'd gotten her all cleaned out. And they had. She was running like a dream.

She'll be mad at you, you know. That was a perfect example. If he'd told Avery or Neville that he'd be gone when they returned, they'd nod their heads and accept it. And they wouldn't expect him to change his mind and wait for them anyway. After all, saying what you meant and acting on it should be a sign that you could be trusted. Not a woman. A woman would be completely surprised by the fact that you meant what you said.

A little voice in his head nagged at him that Jade wasn't like other women, which was why he loved her so much. She'll be madder about having to ride back with that jerk, Anderson. He had to give her that one. He would be, too. Well, if she was mad, he had a plan in mind for how to soften her up.

JADE CLIMBED BACK into the truck after inspecting the ropes holding the cage in place. All the knots held. "Let's go."

"See, I told you that man's trouble," said Anderson. "Now, I'd never go off and leave you behind. He deserves to lose you."

"Will you be quiet?" Jade muttered. "Why should Sam and Avery have waited? They had no idea how long we'd be gone." She leaned her elbow on the door top and rested her cheek against her fist. Actually, she had been angry, but listening to Anderson made her ashamed of the way she'd felt initially. Still, she was disappointed.

"What I'm saying," Anderson said, "is that he's taking you for granted. He's a.s.suming that you're stuck on him. That's what all those flyboys think. That they're G.o.d's gift to women."

Jade groaned and wished she'd ridden in the back, next to the rhino cage.

"Now you take me for instance," continued Anderson.

"No," Jade interrupted. "Wayne, I'm flattered, but please stop."

He looked over to her, his brows arched in confusion. "You getting one of those female headaches?"

Jade stifled a laugh. "Yes, that's it. Some quiet would be good." She leaned out the window and saw the second truck trundling along behind them. They'd taken the lead so that the others could keep an eye on the restraining straps holding their prize rhino in place. The slightest hint that the cage was coming free, and they'd beep the horn for a stop. Not that they intended for anything to progress that far. They'd stop again along the way to check the cage. Jade had even suggested a good spot, the old farmhouse near Mount Longonot. But she had another reason for stopping there. Ever since Daley said he'd accidentally followed tracks to a shack, she feared that someone else had been there. But were they friend or foe to the runaway woman?

A warthog disturbed from his dust bath raced off to the south, his tail sticking straight up. To her right, Mount Longonot rose, its gently sloping blue-gray ma.s.s blending into the sky. From Jade's vantage point, it appeared to be supported by all the candelabra-shaped euphorbia growing at its base, like hundreds of slender arms pushing it upward as an offering. Six giraffe browsed among the scattered acacia trees in the foreground. The bulk of the wildlife, Jade knew, resided closer to the lake. She made a note to come back sometime and photograph the animals, especially the hippos and the colobus monkeys, with their stark black-and-white fur, like some bizarre cross between a skunk and a monkey. A skunkey. The zebra would photograph well, too.

Thinking of zebra made her reconsider Sam and his movie. What would he do when he completed it? Would he go back to America to try to sell it? Would he tour with it? Would he return to Africa? The thought of him so far away disturbed her. You know he's in love with you. And yes, came the returning voice, you're in love with him. But Jade wasn't sure which she needed more: Sam or her independence. Somehow she didn't think she could have both.

The hot afternoon air and the rocking truck made Jade drowsy. She fought sleep by pulling her notebook out of her pack and writing some impressions of the morning's visit to the Maasai warriors' camp. She would have at least one article for the Traveler out of this, perhaps two. She wished she knew more about those enigmatic people.

Jade thought about her promise to Jelani. She knew that her magazine would not be interested in an in-depth look at Kikuyu life and their current problems. She'd already given them a glimpse into village life when she'd written about the ngoma during her first trip. A book? Jelani's story? Maybe. It would be good if Jelani could sell his own story. Not that she was shirking her duty, but making the boy dependent on any of them would not help his cause.

The boy! She had to quit thinking of him that way. The boy had grown up. Children in difficult situations always grew up fast. How was it that the British system saw Jelani as a man now, but still saw sixteen-year-old Harley as a boy? Sam's plan to take Jelani aloft and let him see Africa from the air was a good one. Leave it to Sam to give the boy wings. It was just the sort of thought that she admired him for. What are you going to do when he goes back to the States?

"Is that the farmhouse you said we should stop at?" asked Anderson.

Jade gazed ahead to her right. "Yes."

"Don't look like much of a place to live. Why'd you suggest stopping here anyway?"

"There's a well pump in back in case the radiators need water. We can also refill our drinking-water supply." She jerked her head to the cage behind them. "Junior might be thirsty, too." What she didn't say was that she wanted to check on the woman inside. If she was actually Alice Stokes, as Jade suspected, then she might be in need of help but afraid to ask for it.

Anderson stopped about fifty feet away from the dilapidated house. "I don't think anybody's home," he said when no one appeared at the door. The second truck pulled alongside. Jade got out, leaving her Winchester in the truck, and motioned with her palm out for the others to wait where they were. She didn't relish someone pulling a shotgun on her, so she took a moment to not only show that she had no weapon with her, but to scan the doors, windows, and a.s.sorted cracks for anyone pointing one at her. My knee doesn't ache. I'll be fine.

"I'll just go ask if we can have some water," Jade announced loud enough for anyone listening in the house to hear. "Anyone home?" she called as she walked to the door. No one answered and she didn't detect any motion at the windows. She rapped loudly on the warped wooden door. "h.e.l.lo? Can we use your well?"

Jade listened carefully for a cough, a sigh, any little noise that a human might make when trying her best to lie low. Dead silence. Shouldn't that baby she thought she heard on her last visit wake up and whimper? Her stomach knotted. What if something had happened to them? They could both be inside, injured. Or worse!

She tried the door. It was unlatched and opened easily. Jade stepped inside, warily sniffing the air. No stench of death and decay. She heard three truck doors open and shut behind her. Reinforcements coming.

"Jade," called Daley, "what's going on?"

"I'm not sure, Hank," she called back. "It looks like the person here cleared out." It didn't take much looking to see that the two-room house was empty. The boxes of supplies were gone as well. "The pump's around back," she hollered. "I'm going to look around in here a bit more."

She walked into the back room, the one that had been a bedroom and also a nursery. The only furniture was one worn-out cot with an old mattress stuffed with dried gra.s.s, a few empty stacked crates for a dresser, and one empty wooden crate on the floor at the foot of the cot. Inside were a sc.r.a.p of a blanket and a broken baby's rattle.

Mrs. Stokes and her child had disappeared again.

Had they gone willingly?

CHAPTER 18.

Not all warriors are brave, trusted, or follow the Maasai culture.

Some cut their long hair before the appointed time, just before becoming an

elder. Others shirk their duties. The embikas punish these men.

It is imperative that this generation of warriors retain its honor.

-The Traveler AFTER JADE HAD bounced about for more than four hours in a decrepit truck, her headache was no longer a pretense. The gra.s.slands had been rough enough, but once Anderson turned onto the road from Naivasha to Nairobi, he sped up. What he didn't consider was that the dirt of any murram road remembered every rut run into it during a rainy season, and this particular road had a long memory. The colony's public works department didn't do much to erase it either. Since Anderson hit every blasted rut, some deep enough to lose a goat in, Jade's spine soon learned everything the road had to tell.

At least the little rhino fared all right. The cage was just large enough for him to stand with no extra room to be bounced back and forth and slammed around like a tennis ball. Once they arrived at the warehouse, Jade coaxed the little fellow out to drink and have a dinner of goat's milk and a bit of hay.

"That's a fine specimen," declared Perkins. "We'll pack him back up as soon as he's finished eating." He had stayed behind to orchestrate the loading of most of the hoofed animals. "I've got an engine heading south late this afternoon. We'll start boarding those animals, then come back for the rest of them, saving the big cats for last." He reconsidered a moment. "I'll take those kittens down on this first trip, too." He handed two checks to Jade. "One of these is yours. Give the other to that pilot fellow for me."

"What do you want me to do here today, Mr. Perkins?" asked Jade, slipping the checks into her shirt pocket.

He took off his hat and scratched his head. "Well, we won't be needing your roping skills anymore, so once you've got some photos of the animals going onto the train, you should be clear until the others come back. They'll need your help again with that lion Percy. He seems to respond to your voice better than ours."

Jade held out her hand. "I guess this is goodbye then, Mr. Perkins. Thanks for the job."

He shook her hand. "Been a pleasure, Miss del Cameron. Look me up if you ever get back to the States."

"Hey, Bob," yelled Cutter from the truck, "who's overseeing the animal care here and who's going on to the boat?"

Perkins pulled a notebook from his hip pocket and flipped through a few pages. "I've got you staying here, Frank. Wayne will go with me and Hank on the train." He turned another page. "They'll return here for the carnivores and you. I'll stay at the boats." He looked up from his book. "I'll hire workers at Momba.s.sa to help before we ship out."

"So it's just me here?" Cutter looked like a kid who'd just learned he had to miss a parade for ch.o.r.es. "Why do I have to stay behind?"

"Because your shoes still stink like polecat, Frank," said Perkins. "Don't want to be in the same train car with you if I can avoid it. Get the d.a.m.n things cleaned, why don't you?" He waved a hand at the warehouse. "You have men here, Frank. Once everything is locked down for the night, you only need to post the usual watch."

"Yeah, Frank," said Anderson, "you're acting like you're a scaredy-cat."

"I don't see you rushing over to check on those cats, Wayne," retorted Cutter. "That leopard gives me the w.i.l.l.i.e.s every time he looks at me. Those eyes don't look natural, I tell ya."

"You don't have to feed the leopard yourself," said Perkins. "Just make sure it gets done. You'll be in charge." He clapped his hands twice. "Let's get to work, men."

Jade saw that the rhino had finished his hay, at least as much as he intended to eat. Right at the moment he seemed more intent on pawing through it and bucking in what, she supposed, pa.s.sed for rhino play. Jade let him have his fun and exercise for another ten minutes, then led him back into a traveling pen before he could curl up and fall asleep on the ground outside. His new pen was large enough for him to move around in, and once inside, he quickly dropped to his knees and closed his eyes.

In the meantime, the others had started pushing and hoisting cages into the waiting freight cars. Jade photographed the loading of the zebra stallion as well as his harem. Next came a young pair of reedbuck, the male's horns barely budding. Following them, the men loaded up two Thomson's gazelles. Their horns had been wrapped in woolen fabric to prevent them from accidentally goring each other during the voyage. It looked as if they sported turbans, and Jade made a point of capturing the image.

As she watched set after set of animals, she had the impression that this was a twisted sort of Noah's ark. Once again, pairs or small herds of animals were being saved, but from a flood of humanity rather than water. The last cage to go up contained one lone female aardvark. She stuck her long, piglike nose between the bars and sniffed. A moment later, her whiplike sticky tongue flicked out and swept the floor, searching for insects.

At least they didn't keep the zorilla.

Jade had finished taking shots of the aardvark when she spied one of the railway workers walking the line, checking to see that all doors were shut and the cars securely coupled. The engineer? No, the engineer was currently backing the locomotive down this side rail. Whatever this man's position, she decided to visit with him. Since Neville's coffee dryer had stood on the siding for several days, this man might have seen or heard something useful.

She stepped forward, her right hand extended. "h.e.l.lo, I'm Jade del Cameron." The man shook her hand, his brows tipped upward in curiosity. Jade waved her Kodak in her left hand. "I'm doc.u.menting this shipment for Mr. Perkins and Mr. Daley. I was wondering if I might ask you to pose by one of the cars for a picture."

"Why, certainly, miss," he said, putting his left hand on the boxcar door handle. "How's this?"

Jade moved to her right to get the approaching locomotive in the background and took two exposures. "Wonderful. Now if I could just get your name and your official t.i.tle." She slung the camera over one shoulder and pulled out her notebook and pencil.

"David Robertson," he said. "I'm an a.s.sistant locomotive superintendent. I oversee special freight cars such as this one. Wouldn't do to have excessive weight behind an engine, you see."

"Ah, an a.s.sistant superintendent!" exclaimed Jade. "Then I imagine you know everything that goes on around the rail yards, don't you?"

The man dropped his hand from the door and brushed away some dirt from his shirtfront. "Yes. I check all the manifests for weight, oversee loading and unloading, that sort of thing. " He smiled. "Doing a piece for a paper?"

"I write for a magazine," said Jade.

"A magazine," he repeated as he straightened his cap. "Good show. Wonderful what young ladies can do nowadays. If you'd like to photograph my office, I'd be happy to let you. Perhaps a shot of me sitting behind my desk?"

"I think out here in the yards is much more impressive," said Jade. She looked around as though trying to find a proper backdrop. "Considering your importance, you should be in front of some heavy equipment."

"There are crates of tea in the far warehouse," he suggested.

Jade shook her head. "No, I want something that really represents the colony. I know. How about some big farming equipment? Maybe something that has to do with all the coffee they grow around here?"

"You mean such as a pulper?"

"Yes, or a dryer?"

"Sorry, miss. Nothing of that sort here now. And you should be glad you weren't taking these photographs last week. We had a dryer on the siding. Sat over there." He pointed to the far side of their animal warehouse. "Man was found dead inside it."

Jade shook her head. "I heard about that. Murdered, they say. Then you may have seen who did it, too? I imagine the police have asked you a lot of questions."

He puffed up, sticking his chest out. "Told them I saw that Mr. Stokes and some other man arguing one day. Yank, by the sound of him. Mad about overpricing him on petrol. Said it looked like the billing had been tampered with. Stokes seemed surprised."

"Did they fight? I mean physically?"

Mr. Robertson shook his head. "Not what I'd call fighting. Just loud words. Some fist shaking, posturing, that sort of thing. I think Stokes walked into the Yank's fist once. Made him step back, but that's all. Then that Yank got on a motorcycle and rode off. I think Stokes stayed around, though."

"How shocking," said Jade.

"Unpleasant, I suppose, but not entirely surprising. I've wanted to take a swing at Stokes myself, to speak the truth. He had . . . a way about him. I'm only surprised he didn't have more enemies. Of course," he added hastily, "I wouldn't actually go and hit him. Perhaps accidentally trip him in a practice scrimmage, if you catch my drift."

"Did the police interview you?"

"Yes. Inspector Finch, I believe."

Jade wondered if Stokes had been waiting for someone when Sam found him. She also wondered why, if Finch knew all this, he'd ever seriously considered Sam as a suspect. "You're lucky you weren't here longer," she said. "You might have been the target for the killer instead of Mr. Stokes. Pity him standing there all alone."

"Well, he wasn't the only one around at the time. As I recall, there was a farmer hanging about later. And I saw some chap coming out of this animal warehouse. Wiry, blond fellow.

That sounded like Cutter. "What time of day was this? Do you recall?"

"Actually, yes. I was coming off my job, you see, and in a bit of a hurry. The railroad employees' football squad was having a dinner that evening at the gymkhana. I play forward on the team, you know."

"Ah," said Jade, "so it was still early in the day?"

"No. Pushing six thirty, in point of fact. Barely time to go home and change into evening kit." He leaned in as though to offer a confidence. "It's these blasted work hours, you know. Can't even get a game in before dark. Have to play on Sundays. Only reason I could see any of them was because of the light above the warehouse door."

Jade considered what she already knew and matched it against the railroad man's report. Sam had been seen arguing with Stokes. Cutter probably overheard the argument and came out to see what was happening. He saw Sam drive off. He presumably told Anderson, who embellished the story to the police. Added to Sam's print on the harvesting glove, it might have initially been enough to bring Sam in for questioning the night of the dance.

Stokes waited, though. It was already dark, so someone could have killed him and then shoved the body in the nearby dryer without anyone seeing. Then the murderer had staged the suicide. Either he had the glove or he had found it with Stokes' things. Unfortunately, not much blood came out since Stokes was already dead. But there were always natives at the depot selling chickens. It would be easy enough to get one, bring it back, kill it, and pour its blood into the dryer drum. Could it have been Cutter? Jade couldn't figure out his motive, but then, she didn't know him well at all.

The locomotive and its tender edged into the line of cars. The resulting clang of couplers startled Jade out of her thoughts as the force rippled in waves down the line of cars, making them shudder. The impact, mild as it was, frightened the animals, which responded with a cacophony of bleating, brays, and snorts. Several monkeys screamed.

"Will you be wanting any more photographs, miss?" Mr. Robertson shouted over the din. "Because if not, I believe I need to double-check those couplings so your train can leave."

"Oh, sorry. No. I think this one with the animal train will be good. I can send a print to you if you'd like."