Poacher

by Leon Mare

  ‘OK, so we talk. You going to tell me about the wife that doesn’t understand you? Even a good marriage counsellor might be cheaper.’

  ‘I want to talk strictly business. I have a proposition for you, which will mean quite a lot of money if you do it right.’

  ‘Listen, buddy, with the type of merchandise I am selling, I don’t need a manager. Least of all, one with a false beard and a glue-on moustache. Most probably a wig, too.’

  ‘Well, um.’ Sam patted his beard, and felt a complete ass. Definitely not his scene. This was a sharp one indeed. ‘You are remarkably observant.’

  ‘In my job, I have to be. Were you going to offer your services as my manager?’

  ‘As a matter of fact, no.’

  ‘I thought as much. You’re obviously not very used to doing this. I am beginning to think you are way out of your depth, whatever it is you are trying to achieve. Can I leave now?’

  ‘No, wait. Do you recognise this man?’ He produced the photograph.

  ‘What are you, some kind of cop? I’m not an informer – bad for business,’ she said, without looking at the photograph.

  ‘I am not a cop, and I don’t want any information from you. I want you to pass a message to this man. It is so important to me, that I am willing to pay five hundred rand for your effort.’

  She grabbed the photograph, and he mistook the fleeting flare in her eyes for a token of greed. ‘Yes, he was here a couple of weeks or months ago. Quite a few girls will remember him. Rutting around like a compound harvester in heat, but a very big spender. What do you want with him?’

  ‘He is going to be here either tomorrow or Saturday. Get him into his room and give him this.’ Sam extracted a thick envelope from under his pillow. ‘Leave immediately, while he is reading the document, otherwise he will most probably follow you and try to get more information out of you. You won’t enjoy that. Then you go down to the casino, where I will meet you to give you the other half of your money. Then stop working for the evening and go straight home. I guarantee that he will leave Swaziland the moment the Mozambican border post opens.’

  ‘Hell, this sounds dangerous. That costs more. And the fact that I will have to stop working for the night is also going to cost more.’ She grinned and held out her hand.

  ‘You are so very right when you say you don’t need a manager. At this rate, I suppose you own some property around here, too.’ He put five hundred rand in the outstretched hand. ‘Collect another five after delivery. And don’t give him any explanations or descriptions. Just deliver and disappear.’

  She was looking very please as she got up. ‘It’s a pleasure doing business with you. Call again any time.’

  While Sam was sleeping fitfully during the early morning hours, the contents of the envelope were being transmitted on one of the very few fax machines in Swaziland.

  He spent a long, boring day in his room, and stayed in the casino till it closed at three am the next morning. No Joao, but the lithe body was very much in evidence, cruising the casino, and disappearing occasionally, but never for more than thirty minutes at a time. She had a bigger handbag this time, but did not approach him.

  Saturday was the same, up to nine in the evening. Even in the poor light of the casino, Sam recognised him the moment he walked in. He had trouble subduing the overwhelming urge to pounce on Joao and throttle him with his bare hands. Instead, he retreated further into the shadows, and watched.

  The lifestyle of the idle rich appealed to Joao. On his return to Mozambique, Courie’s contacts had looked after him well, whisking him from safe house to safe house, never allowing him to stay in one place for more than few days at a time. The Chinaman had given him an envelope containing thirty thousand rand in cash, with instructions to meet Courie in Swaziland in six weeks time, once things had started cooling off.

  Following instructions, he had proceeded to enjoy himself with great gusto. Most of the time, he was not even in a safe house but, instead, he shacked up with the dame of the day. Word of Courie’s disappearance had reached him towards the end of the six weeks, plunging him into a state of uncertainty. Nobody had a clue of where, how or why. Had the SA police grabbed him, they would have flaunted it in the papers to a point of nausea. It was a complete mystery and Joao did not really know how to handle the situation. Fact remained, however, that the man still owed him some money, and then, there was still the matter of the rhino and Jenkins.

  He had decided to go to Swaziland anyway, but to go a day earlier, and to keep on his running shoes, as it were. He had booked in at a hotel in Manzini, and kept an eye on the Spa, staying out of sight. By Saturday evening he had still not spotted anything out of the ordinary, and decided to go into the casino, looking for Courie.

  It took him a while to work his way through the mass of people, and his spirits sank even further as he progressed. There was no sign of Courie.

  ‘Hello, hadsome. Remember me?’ Very seductive voice at his elbow, and a soft touch on the back of his hand.

  He hardly recognised her presence. ‘Hello, beautiful. Not tonight, I’m busy.’

  ‘I’ve got something for you.’

  ‘Yeah, I’ve got something for you too, but not tonight.’

  She pulled his sleeve and whispered in his ear. ‘A very important message, oh great hunter.’

  He froze in his tracks and looked at her properly for the first time. The stunner. They had made ferocious love on his previous visit, and he remembered bragging about his accomplishments in his post-coital stupor. Must have made quite an impression if she still remembered.

  He looked around furtively. ‘Give.’

  ‘Not here, baby, in your room.’

  ‘I am not booked in here.’

  For a moment she was at a loss. ‘Wait for me right here.’

  At reception some money changed hands, and she headed back to the casino with a key in her hand. ‘Come up to room 2131 in a minute,’ she whispered and disappeared.

  As he walked in, she gave him a thick envelope and walked out.

  He grabbed her arm. ‘Where do you think you are going?’

  ‘I’ve got a long night’s work ahead of me, lover. Judging by the looks of that envelope, it is going to take you a while to work your way through that message. Once you’re through, come down to the casino and maybe we can have some fun. The bleached little man with the goatee who gave me that was quite a bundle of fun himself.’

  Courie! Joao immediately lost all interest in the woman, and helped her out the door. She proceeded down to the casino and collected her other five hundred, grinning all the way.

  ‘Straight home for an early night, now,’ Sam reminded her.

  ‘You are so kind, sir,’ and she pecked him on the hairy cheek chastely. She then headed straight for debriefing.

  Joao tore the envelope open with trembling fingers. Inside, there was R5000 in fifties, and a typed letter.

  Dear Joao,

  By now word of my predicament may have reached you.

  There is a group of greedy men in our midst, trying to take over our little venture, so do not trust anyone. I have identified some of them, and I suspect our usual channels of communication are also unsafe. As you may know by now, I am wanted for police questioning. I need your help to get out of the country. Use the money to lay on safe transport and accommodation on the Mozambican side. Once there, I can get to Luanda easily, from where we can destroy this nest of vipers.

  As you are an expert in these things, I will leave the detail up to you. I thought it best to cross in a place you are familiar with, so I will be waiting at our secret drop-off point at 10 a.m. on this coming Wednesday. I have to urge you once more to be very careful and trust absolutely no one. We will do this thing on our own.

  Your friend.

  The letter was not signed, but Joao didn’t expect Courie to put his name to anything at this stage. If Courie was in danger, then so was he. He sneaked back to his hotel, and left first thing in the morning, like t
he bearded man had predicted.

  On his way back, Sam could not resist the temptation to stop in Nelspruit and phone Estelle again in his elation. When he told her that the whole thing was going to be settled within a couple of days, she caught him completely off sides when she sounded tearful. ‘Sam, please leave it to the authorities. I have a bad feeling about this.’

  ‘Estelle, this isn’t something I can leave to somebody else. It is between him and me, and we will now settle it once and for all. Please don’t worry, I’ll be very careful. I love you.’

  There was a prolonged silence.

  ‘Estelle?’

  ‘Sam, I want to see you.’

  He felt as if he had touched a high tension wire. For a moment he was at a loss for words. ‘Estelle, you really mean that?’

  ‘Sam, I have gone through a very difficult time. You broke my heart, and you made me cry till there were no more tears. For the past months I have made every effort to learn to hate you. It’s no use. I love you. And now you are going to get yourself killed. I don’t think I could handle that. We were going to get married next Saturday, remember?’

  ‘Stay right there, don’t go away.’ In his haste he broke the connection, but failed to replace the phone properly. He ignored the dangling instrument and ran for the Alfa.

  Two hours later and sixty kilometres from Pretoria, the cop materialised from behind the thick pillars of a fly-over and held his left hand up authoritatively. With a curse Sam stood the Alfa on its nose, smoke boiling from the tyres. He reversed to where the cop was standing in the road, talking on his two-way radio.

  Sam knew he had plenty of trouble coming his way, and decided not to antagonise the man. ‘Morning, officer. How bad is the news?’

  ‘Morning. Just about as bad as it can get. Up to 160 kilometres an hour the fine is four hundred rand. Above 160 we arrest the offender, and he has to appear in court. You have just been clocked at 204.’

  ‘No, please, listen,’ Sam was out of the car. ‘Please, look at me. I am on my knees. A fine, any fine, just please don’t make me spend hours filling in forms and trying to find lawyers. I am on my way to my fiancée in Pretoria. The forthcoming marriage was the rocks before we have even started, and we have just made up. Please, if I don’t pitch up now, I will probably die a bachelor one day. Please, save my life and give me a fine.’

  The cop looked at him sceptically. He would rather also stay here and nail some more speed freaks, than cart this guy into town and spend the rest of the day filling out forms. ‘Hang on.’ He turned his back on Sam and walked away a short distance, talking into the radio. After arguing for a while, he returned, pulling out his book. ‘Right, a fine it will be. Name?’

  Sam had no option but to wait anxiously while the cop wrote slowly and laboriously, the tip of his tongue occasionally emerging in concentration. Eventually he tore the ticket out with a flourish, and handed it to Sam. Sam folded the ticket over five hundred rand and handed it back to the cop. In a reflex moment the cop accepted the proffered paper, and only realised what it was, once he had it in his hands. ‘No you can’t pay here. You have to pay at your nearest police station.’ He held the bundle out to Sam again, but he was already pulling away.

  ‘I live in the bush, officer, there are no police stations. And thanks again.’

  ‘Hey, you can’t do this. Hey! Come back here!’

  Sam was already in third gear when he looked into the mirror and smiled. In the distance, the cop was still in the middle of the road, waving the bundle of paper above his head frantically, as if he was seeing off a loved one going on an extended ocean cruise.

  When he screeched to a halt in front of the Fishers’ house, Estelle was standing in the open front door. He got out and looked at her over the roof of the car. As he walked up to her, she touched her hair with her left hand on purpose. She saw in his eyes that he immediately recognised the engagement ring that was back on the correct finger.

  She smiled at him. ‘Do you mind?’

  ‘Not as long as it’s mine,’ he countered, sweeping her off her feet and holding her. She clung to him with a desperation akin to that of a baby baboon clinging to its mother in flight. ‘Oh Sam, I have missed you ever so much. Never leave me again. I forgive you everything. Let us start all over again.’

  He kissed her on her fresh, innocent lips. ‘Only this time we are not going to waste our time for the sake of decency. Will you marry me on Saturday?’

  She laughed, and pulled her head back to look at him. ‘You are serious, aren’t you? But you are also crazy. Yes, I will marry you, but not this Saturday. There are a million things to do first. A person doesn’t get married just like that. Come, let’s tell my parents.’

  Initially the atmosphere was a bit strained, especially with his future mother in law, but things thawed quickly. His delighted parents came over, and they all went to town for a Sunday lunch to celebrate.

  Everyone was enjoying the meal and the conversation, when Estelle turned to Sam. ‘You are going to stay here for a couple of days,’ she said, the anxious tome of her voice immediately stopping all other conversation.

  He laid down his knife and fork. ‘Estelle, you know I can’t do that.’

  A single tear coursed down her cheek. ‘Sam, I don’t want to lose you again. I have a bad feeling about this. Please don’t go.’

  ‘I am really sorry, Estelle, but I have no choice. I’ve got a chance to finish it now, and finish it I will.’

  ‘Now what the hell is going on,’ Sam’s father wanted to know.

  ‘Sam insists on having an old-fashioned duel with someone who is quite capable of killing him.’ The tears were flowing freely now, and she had a look of utter desperation in her eyes.

  ‘You’ve got it wrong. I intend trying to catch him alive, but I have to do it personally. The authorities will see to it that justice is done, don’t you worry. He has murdered three people in cold blood, two of which were policemen. He will hang without doubt. Where did you get these wild ideas anyway?’

  ‘Louis telephoned me some time ago, and said he was worried about you. He told me the whole story about this Joao, and he said you were obsessed.’

  ‘What story?’ Dr. Fisher leant forward, cocking his head.

  Sam sighed, and told them about Joao’s threats. He knew that Louis, not knowing half of the true facts, couldn’t have told Estelle much, so he refrained from going into any detail.

  ‘So what makes you think that you are going to get your hands on him this week,’ Dr. Fisher wanted to know.

  Sam lied with a straight face. ‘I have received information that they might be planning an ivory expedition again very soon. There is no way I am going to scream for help from the authorities every time a band of poachers come into my territory.’

  Sam’s father cleared his throat. ‘He’s right, Estelle, he is only doing his job.’

  ‘No, he isn’t,’ she insisted. ‘There is more to it than just doing his job. I am going to Nwanetzi with him.’ She lifted her chin in a gesture of defiance and looked at Sam.

  Her mother and Sam started protesting simultaneously, and quite a hectic argument ensued. Estelle, however, had made up her mind, and no amount of arguing would budge her. ‘I don’t care what people say about me staying with him on my own. I am quite old enough and capable of looking after myself, thank you. I am going, and that’s it. As far as I am concerned, the subject is not open for discussion any longer.’ A minute nod of her head accompanied this statement, emphasising the finality. Everybody around the table knew her well enough to know that the subject was, indeed, closed.

  Sam was not happy about this turn of events. Her presence would hamper him, and she would most probably try to accompany him everywhere he went, and that was something he definitely did not need at this stage. He tried to dissuade her once more, but she just folded her arms and regarded him coolly, refusing to get drawn into the argument again. ‘OK,’ he conceded, ‘but on one very firm condition. I will absolutel
y not allow you to interfere with my work. And I want you to understand that very clearly.’

  ‘Yes, sir. Very good, sir. Thank you, oh great bwana.’ She smiled a victorious smile, and turned to her father. ‘Dad, will you please phone Mr. van Wijk tomorrow and tell him that I will be absent for a week?’

  ‘You can be glad you are not working for me – I would have fired you without thinking twice.’

  Chapter Thirteen

  They arrived at Nwanetzi at nine in the evening. And both immediately felt awkward about sharing the house alone.

  Estelle moved into the guest room and unpacked her things, while Sam made some tea.

  Although they had long ago, on Estelle’s insistence, decided that there would be no sex till after the wedding, there was a certain sexual tension in the air as they sat under the mahogany, savouring the night sounds.

  They were both suddenly at a loss for words, each too scared to say anything that might resurrect Linda’s presence.

  Sam had only known Estelle to use a glass of wine with a meal occasionally, and was therefore astonished when she suggested a drink.

  ‘Excellent idea. Shall I get you some wine?’

  ‘No, I think I will have something stronger, please. A large whisky or something.’ He failed to notice the tension in her voice, and fetched them each a tall whisky.

  ‘Cheers!’ She sipped tentatively on the first whisky in her life and nearly gagged. ‘Lovely,’ she said, steeling herself and taking a large swallow.

  Halfway through her second whisky, she put her glass down and got up. She stood in front of his chair, and pulled him up by both hands. As his arm went around her, she pressed her body into him fiercely and clung to him with a strength that he did not know she possessed.

  ‘Sam, please don’t die.’

  ‘I won’t, my love. I have a whole lifetime I want to spend with you, and nothing is going to rob me of that.’