by Tony Park
‘Well, no shortage of leopards, at least,’ Julianne said. She lowered her voice for Mia’s sake: ‘I don’t like this.’
Neither did Mia. She did not like being bested by the poacher, nor having to rely on dumb luck, but at least Bongani had been doing a good job, not becoming so focused on tracking the leopard that he did not see anything else. They walked over to the other two guests.
Sue showed her new-found tracking skills to Julianne, pointing out the scrape in the dirt where the leopard had dragged its prey, and the pug marks either side.
‘Same leopard?’ Mia asked, although she knew that the possibility that the same leopard had made two kills in a short period of time, or that there might be another close by which had also happened to kill in the same time period, were both statistically unlikely.
Bongani took her arm and led her away. ‘No leopard,’ he whispered.
‘What?’
Bongani put a finger to his lips. ‘There was an impala carcass dragged or carried across the road – there is blood and hair from the antelope – but I picked up a partial boot print. They dragged the impala across the road to cover their footprints.’
‘They? What makes you think it was more than one person?’ Panic started to rise inside Mia’s chest, like heartburn.
‘The leopard’s pug marks are fake, made by two humans using their fingers. One did a good job – he fooled me – the other was not so good, and he left a fingerprint in the sand nearby.’
‘Holy shit,’ Mia whispered.
‘Laura!’
They looked around. Sue was standing with Julianne, Elizabeth and Samantha, who had rejoined the group. Sue shaded her eyes against the setting sun as she looked towards the termite mound. The girl had been taking her time, Mia realised, checking her watch.
‘Laura, are you all right? Come take a look at these tracks when you finish,’ Mia called.
Julianne, sensing something was up, excused herself from the other women and came to them. Bongani quietly filled her in on his discovery as Mia went to the Land Rover, took her rifle from the dashboard and extracted it from its carry case.
‘Laura?’ Mia called again as she loaded the .375. To Bongani she whispered: ‘I didn’t see any drag marks or tracks around the termite mound.’
‘They could have gone into the bush, by the mound, when they heard us coming,’ Bongani whispered.
‘Shit,’ Julianne said.
‘What’s going on?’ Sue started heading to the mound, with Elizabeth and Samantha striding to keep up with her.
‘Get in the truck, everyone, please,’ Mia ordered the women. Elizabeth and Samantha paused, then turned and headed back to the Land Rover. ‘Laura!’
Bongani peeled off, instinctively knowing what needed to be done. He intercepted Sue. ‘Please, just give Mia a moment to check.’
Sue shrugged off his gentle touch on her arm. ‘Get out of my way!’
Mia brought the rifle up into her shoulder as she came abreast of the termite mound. She drew a breath, her finger curled through the trigger guard.
‘No!’ Sue shrieked.
Chapter 12
Sannie made it into the Sabi Sand Game Reserve and onto the Lion Plains property, where Kaya Nghala Lodge was situated, in less than half an hour. She had driven as fast as she dared, navigating towards the WhatsApp pin that she had been sent.
The lodge and the place where the crime scene had been set up were, as the crow flew, less than two kilometres from where she had just been, in Killarney village, looking for a sangoma who was not home. Annoyingly, however, the road to the gate followed the boundary of the reserve for a much longer distance north, then through the gate, and then back down the fence line and into the wilds of the reserve.
Julianne Clyde-Smith, the owner of Lion Plains, was with the girl’s mother, whom she introduced to Sannie. Surprisingly, Sannie’s two friends, Elizabeth and Samantha, were standing nearby, leaning against a Lion Plains open Land Rover. Sannie remembered now her friends telling her over drinks the night before that they were going on a game drive this afternoon, but she had not recalled them saying which lodge they were visiting. They both gave her a little wave and she nodded to them, keeping it professional.
‘Thank you for coming so quickly, Captain,’ Julianne said.
‘Quick?’ Sue Barker, the Englishwoman, glared at Sannie. ‘My daughter has been missing for ages and no one is doing anything.’
Julianne put her arm around the woman. ‘My two best trackers are on the trail and our dog team is coming in from the east. They were called out earlier after a suspected poacher’s tracks were seen.’
Sue pulled away from Julianne. ‘What? You knew there were criminals here on the reserve and you let my daughter and me continue on a bloody game drive?’
‘It’s not like that –’ Julianne began.
Sue grabbed two handfuls of her own hair. ‘What do you bloody mean it’s not like that?’
‘Mrs Barker,’ Sannie said, taking out her notebook, ‘we’re mobilising more police as we speak.’
‘My helicopter is on its way,’ Julianne said. ‘It had to go for maintenance this morning, but I’ve passed on a message for the pilot to hurry back.’
Sannie nodded. ‘Good. What have we got here?’
Julianne led Sannie to a termite mound, Sue Barker following them, wiping her eyes, and the other two women trailing along at a distance.
‘I’ve tried to keep everything as undisturbed as possible.’
A green fleece hoody, a small woman’s size by the look of it, lay on the ground, along with a cylindrical green canvas pouch of a type which Sannie recognised. She had one herself, for carrying toilet paper when she and her family had gone camping. It was unopened.
‘That’s . . . that’s my daughter’s jacket,’ Sue said, and started crying.
Sannie moved forward slowly. She needed a crime scene investigation team here, now, but they were still a couple of hours’ drive away and there was no time to waste.
‘We can use the radio in the Land Rover to get an update from my people,’ Julianne said, ‘but right now I think they’re better off concentrating on finding the girl, don’t you think, Captain?’
Sannie agreed, but this was her investigation, not the wealthy lodge owner’s, no matter how many anti-poaching rangers she employed. Only in the time of COVID-19 would she be the only officer at such a scene. She looked at the ground. ‘Signs of a struggle?’
Julianne stepped forward, but Sannie held out a hand to stop her walking over the tracks. ‘Yes, my people say there are the tracks of two men, barefoot, leaving the scene.’
‘Why,’ Sue Barker sniffed, ‘why would they not have shoes?’
Sannie looked up after inspecting the footprints. ‘Poachers take their shoes off sometimes. They know that we can match the tread of their shoes and use that as evidence. A foot is not like a hand, which leaves a distinctive fingerprint, especially not in the dirt.’
‘My trackers said the men were moving as though carrying someone,’ Julianne said.
Sannie nodded and moved in the direction of the tracks, skirting them so as not to contaminate them. Even she could see how the one footprint rolled out to the side and was firmly pressed into the dirt, as if carrying an awkward, perhaps struggling weight. ‘You heard nothing?’
‘No,’ Julianne said.
Sannie looked back to her friends, who both shook their heads.
‘I was in the bush as well,’ Samantha volunteered. ‘Answering the call of nature, like poor Laura. I heard nothing. Whoever it was moved like ghosts.’
Sannie cast her eyes around the base of the termite mound. There was no obvious evidence that the girl had actually relieved herself.
Sue gasped and started crying again. ‘Do something!’
Sannie checked her watch. It was nearly six. I
t would be dark soon. ‘You say your chopper is coming?’
Julianne nodded. ‘Yes, and I have a wide area surveillance system.’
Sannie was writing in her notebook, but something caught her eye. She glanced up to see Samantha staring, point blank, at Elizabeth, whose cheeks turned red when Sannie looked to her. Odd, Sannie thought. She directed her mind back to the facts, as she was trying to establish them.
‘Yes, I’ve heard of it. The Vulture system,’ Sannie said to Julianne.
‘We’ll pick them up as they try to leave the reserve, if my teams don’t catch them first.’ Julianne put an arm around Sue’s shoulders.
Sannie went back to the girl’s jacket, found a stick on the ground and used it to lift the garment without getting too close to the obvious scuff marks in the bare sandy patch of earth where the girl, Laura, had been. She lifted the jacket and checked it. There was no sign of blood on it.
‘How long was Laura alone?’ Sannie asked.
‘She was not alone.’ Sue wiped her eyes. ‘We were all here, just on the road.’
Sannie looked back. ‘About thirty metres away. What were you doing there?’
‘What are you insinuating, Captain?’ Sue said.
‘Please, Mrs Barker, I just need to establish the facts.’
‘We were looking at tracks,’ Julianne said, ‘and Laura was relieving herself, as was Samantha.’
Sannie made a note. ‘Tracks of what?’
‘Leopard,’ Julianne said. ‘At least, Bongani thought it was another leopard. We had just seen one up a tree with a kill – it had dragged its prey across the road. Even I thought that was weird, two leopards in such close proximity, but stranger things have happened. Bongani thought there was something suspicious about –’
‘Wait.’ Sue stepped between the two women and confronted Julianne. ‘You knew there was a problem and you didn’t call for Laura then and get us all back on the truck?’
‘It all happened so fast, Sue,’ Julianne said.
Sannie saw that Sue’s hands were balled into fists by her sides. ‘Ladies, please.’
Sannie manoeuvred herself so she was between the two women. Elizabeth and Samantha hung back, not wanting to take sides, Sannie guessed. ‘The most important thing now is that we find Laura. More police are on the way. I think we should check in with your teams.’
Sannie shepherded them all to the Land Rover.
‘Julianne, this is Sean, over,’ came a voice through the radio.
‘Sean Bourke, head of anti-poaching,’ Julianne said as she opened the front door and reached across Mia’s seat to get to the handset.
Sannie nodded. ‘I know him. Good man.’
Julianne pressed the transmit button. ‘Go for Julianne, Sean.’
‘Julianne.’ Sean was panting. ‘We’re closing on them . . . heading west, towards the perimeter fence. One of my guys . . . says he just caught a glimpse of them.’
‘Roger, Sean, give me a reference and I’ll send the chopper to you as soon as he’s overhead.’
Sannie had her phone out.
‘They’ll hit the fence about four kilometres north of the R536, over.’
‘Copy,’ Julianne said.
Sannie sent an SMS to the police tactical unit and the crime scene investigators, both of whom would be in the area soon, if they weren’t already. Julianne looked to her. Sannie nodded. ‘Got it.’
‘Roger, Sean,’ Julianne said into the handset. ‘The police are here and they’re directing their people to go to the fence to assist.’
Then Sannie looked up from the screen of her phone when she heard, quite clearly, a gunshot over the radio.
*
Mia and Bongani dived to the ground, searching for cover, as two more shots were fired, this time at them.
‘The dog,’ Bongani said, his hand on his chest as he lay there, gasping for breath. Mia kept fit by using the gym at Kaya Nghala, but with each passing year Bongani was getting bigger and slower. ‘I think they shot it.’
‘Bastards,’ Mia said.
The dog handler, Phillip, had let Askari off the lead to chase down the men as soon as they had been sighted. Phillip had run after Askari, bringing his R1 rifle up to bear and readying for a shot when one of the poachers had opened fire.
‘Askari!’ Phillip yelled, then fired his weapon.
Mia put her head up. There was no sign of the dog. Phillip got to his feet and then the gunman fired again, this time on full automatic.
‘AK-47,’ Mia yelled, realising their enemy had an assault rifle.
Phillip, either heedless of his own safety or worried for his four-legged friend, fired twice and ran forward.
The poacher opened up again and Phillip fell.
‘Phillip!’ Mia rolled over and handed her hunting rifle to Bongani. ‘Cover me.’
‘No, Mia.’ Bongani shook his head. ‘Wait for Sean.’
‘There’s no time,’ Mia said. ‘The guy will show himself as soon as I start running, but he’ll have to be a good shot to hit a running target. He’ll be focusing on me, so as soon as you see him, you plug him, OK?’
Bongani shook his head again. ‘You’re crazy.’
She put a hand on his arm. ‘Do this, now, or these guys will get away with Laura.’
Bongani took a deep breath and worked the bolt of the rifle back a little to confirm it was loaded and ready.
‘On three,’ Mia said.
He nodded.
‘Wait.’
‘What is it?’ Bongani asked.
‘That muthi you chew, the herbs or powder, or whatever it is the sangoma gives you to keep away danger. Give me some.’
‘You sure?’
‘Yes. There are no non-believers in foxholes.’
‘What?’ He dug into the pocket of his fatigue trousers.
‘Old white people’s saying.’
He passed her a pinch of his potion. Mia took it and put the stuff in her mouth. She started chewing. It was tangy, bitter.
‘Spit as you run,’ Bongani said. He handed her a folded paper packet containing the remaining muthi.
Mia put it in her pocket. ‘OK. Ready?’
Bongani adjusted himself so the rifle was pointing around the trunk of the tree, towards where the gunfire had last come from.
‘Three!’ Mia stood and ran.
With her legs pumping she expected to hear shots from the poacher at any second. As much as she dreaded the thud of the bullet into her body – her father had told her once, drunk, that it didn’t hurt, at first – she knew that if she was not fired upon then the poachers had already left, and that meant Laura would be further out of reach.
The man with the AK-47 fired a burst of three rounds. Mia heard the crack-thump of a bullet as it cleaved the air close to her face. The gunman must have been firing wild, as another skidded across the ground near her foot. Her heart felt like it was ready to explode. She saw Phillip on the ground in front of her; he rolled over, to face her, and raised his rifle.
‘It’s me!’
Mia barely registered the louder bang of her own rifle going off as Bongani, at last, fired. No more rounds came her way from the AK-47 as she dived like a Springbok winger sliding in for a try, ploughing her way along the rough, dry earth and brittle grass.
‘Sheesh, you’re crazy,’ Phillip said.
She looked up and wiped dirt from her face. Phillip was pale, and despite his forced smile he was wincing. ‘Where are you hit, Phillip?’
‘Ag, in the lower right leg, only, but I can’t stand.’
Mia leopard-crawled closer to him, staying low, and worked her hands down his leg. He flinched as she pulled up his trouser leg. ‘I’m no soldier, but I can see an entry wound and an exit wound, so I think you’ll live. Have you got a bandage or something?’
�
�A field dressing, in my pack.’
Mia helped Phillip shrug the daypack off his back, unzipped it and found the dressing.
‘Can you do it yourself?’ she asked him.
He blinked at her. ‘You’re not . . .’
‘I have to go, Phillip. I can’t let them get away with that girl. They’ve stopped firing at us, which I think means they’re moving.’
Phillip shook his head. ‘They’re desperate men, Mia, they’ve already shot me, and poor Askari. They’re looking at serious prison time after taking that tourist kid. They’ll kill you, sure as nuts.’
Mia handed Phillip the wound dressing and when he started to unwrap it, a job that took both hands, she snatched his rifle up from the grass.
‘Hey, give that back!’
‘Tell Sean I’ll radio through any updates. I’ll get Bongani to come to you.’
‘Mia, wait . . .’
She ignored him, stood, and ran forward, before her fears could paralyse her. Finding some cover, Mia slowed, took her radio from her belt and told Bongani to go to Phillip. She heard whining and, ahead of her, saw Askari the dog.
‘Bongani, the dog’s alive as well. Please see to him if you can, over.’ She stooped quickly to ruffle his fur. ‘Good boy.’ Like his handler, Askari looked as though he had also taken one in the leg.
Mia steeled herself and moved off.
She picked up the tracks of the men and came to a patch of flattened grass. There were spent copper casings from an AK-47 lying where the man had opened fire on them. Mia quickly cast about and found blood on the grass. It was not, however, where the shooter had been lying. She found two other indentations on the ground, but only the one in the middle – presumably Laura – had been bleeding. Dread, mixed with adrenaline, both terrified and fuelled her from within. She prayed none of them had accidentally shot Laura in the exchange of gunfire.
She grabbed the cocking handle on the left of Phillip’s R1 and, as Bongani had with her rifle, made sure there was a round chambered, ready for action.
Mia saw where the men had picked up the girl again and set off. It seemed as though one man now had her over his shoulder as his tracks were deeper than those of his partner in crime.