Killed in Kruger

by Denise M. Hartman

Tabitha started to protest. This was the second copy to disappear into a park employee’s possession. She only had one more. Sure there was nothing wrong. It was drawing a bit of attention for something that was nothing.

  Mhlongo rose from his seat. “Thank you, Miss Cranz. I must go.” He turned and walked away, leaving Tabitha open-mouthed in her seat.

  He said it was nothing, but Tabitha couldn’t help wonder what he saw in those slides that she didn’t. She felt like she was racing down a dark road in a fog, and she didn’t like it.

  Chapter 41

  Pieter watched them on the breakfast terrace from a safe distance, using his field glasses. Mhlongo had told him of the meeting and probably realized he was watching. It would be nice to be able to hear the conversation, too, but he didn’t want this American woman to see him with Mhlongo again. As far as she knew now, the capture was over and he would have no need to interact with the ranger.

  He couldn’t afford connections with Mhlongo anymore. In addition to the native man’s desire to take over the operation, Pieter had other nagging doubts. Something gloomy hung nearby. Did Mhlongo cause it, or did it follow him?

  Perhaps it was only Pieter’s short timer’s nerves. He shrugged and lowered the glasses from his eyes. If Mhlongo was in any danger of being caught by his superiors, Pieter wanted to be well away when it happened.

  He struck the hood of the Jeep with a fist. They’d done so well for so many years. Why did it have to come unraveled on his last export?

  Chapter 42

  Rian Minaar came out to Skukuza the following day. Tabitha met him in front of the Kruger museum, which looked like a grand thatched-roofed home. Rian reached over and gave her a perfunctory kiss on the cheek as a greeting, but Tabitha stiffened. She told herself it was just a greeting. They found a bench out of the warming sunshine, and she told him about the strange interview with Mpande and the one with Mhlongo.

  “It’s like no one is willing to talk about what is obviously a reality in the park.”

  “I’m sure it’s your media status that is getting you into trouble. They’re afraid of what you’ll write,” Minnaar said.

  “I guess, but I’m not a particularly imposing person. Short and sweet and all that. They’re giving me credit for a lot more clout than I’ve actually got.” She gathered her hair into one fist and fanned her neck with it. “Then there’s the picture thing. Both Mpande and Mhlongo kept Phillip’s picture of the park employees, almost refusing to give it back.”

  “Did they tell you what was in it?”

  “No. Well, they both said it was rangers on routine park duties. But why keep them, in that case?”

  “So you had two sets made?”

  “Actually, the camera is programmed to take three shots each time you fire. Thank God. So I’ve got one of Phillip’s left. I’m afraid to show it to anyone else, in case they’ll want to keep it too.”

  “May I see it? I promise not to keep it.” Rian smiled, showing an impeccable set of teeth.

  As Tabitha dug through her bag, she said, “I showed one of my shots from the giraffe capture to Mhlongo and he kept it, too. For some reason, I didn’t show it to Mpande. I guess it seemed more likely that the ranger who inspected the site would be able to enlighten me. It honestly doesn’t look like much. I chose a shot of the cage they capture the giraffes in. Vandenblok acted so oddly when I mentioned pictures, I thought I’d show that cage shot to Mhlongo and see if I missed something when I was looking at it. Honestly, if no one asked to keep either of these pictures, I wouldn’t think twice about it. If they said, ‘everything’s fine’ and handed it back to me, not a second thought.” She withdrew the giraffe enclosure slide and brandished it for Rian Minnaar. “Don’t snatch this and run off.”

  He squinted at it in the sunlight. She handed him the loupe, and he studied for a moment. “I’m as in the dark as you are. It looks like a pen to me. I have a friend who works in animal control in one of the villages at the outskirts of the park. He might know what to look for. Let me see the other one.”

  “This is the last copy of Phillip’s employee shot.”

  He squinted through the loupe. “It’s so distant you can’t really see much. Intriguing that everyone is giving you so much trouble if there’s nothing to look at, isn’t it? I could have my friend look at this too. Though I can’t imagine anyone could identify these people at this distance.”

  “That’s what everyone says. So you want to take this last slide, I suppose?” Tabitha asked with a grimace.

  Rian laughed and raised his right hand. “I swear I’ll return it, and the giraffe one, too.”

  “That leaves me just one of the giraffe pen. Maybe I should still ask Mpande about it.” Tabitha pulled it out of her bag and put it in her pocket. The demand for these slides made her think she should keep them close.

  “You mean out of all the pictures you took, this is the only one of the cage?” Rian asked.

  “It was the only time the wind blew the canvas away and I could see in. I was really trying to get an action shot of all the helpers scrambling to put the canvas right. The rest of the pictures are just the helicopter and the canvas and metal canal they built. I didn’t take very many really.” Tabitha bit at a cuticle. “Oh,” she said, digging in the bag again, “take a look at this one.” She handed him the blurry faces.

  He whistled low, taking the loupe down from his eye. “These people look terrified—what you can see of them. It’s so dark and blurry. This is your uncle’s too, then?”

  She nodded.

  “It’s not much to go on, is it?” He looked again. “We have a colleague who is suppose to be specifically for trafficking crimes. We are spread so thin, I’m afraid he doesn’t spend much time on it. I did talk to him. He said nearly all the drug dealers in the city have turned to some form of trafficking—either people into the country or out. South Africa is a country that imports and exports human lives, I’m afraid. I could give him this photo, but we can’t even prove it was taken in the park, can we?” His blue eyes looked into hers as his forehead crinkled.

  “I’m nearly positive it was here somewhere, just because Phillip was so excited about and single-minded on his nature work. The only other thing we were going to do was profile a couple of luxury safari lodges, but they all border the park too. Can I prove it? I guess not. Just that I knew him.”

  “The trafficking task force has suspicions that the park is being used somehow, but no one has gotten any evidence. I don’t think they’re doing anything with it. Of course, the corruption here is astronomical, so perhaps it’s just payoffs. I don’t like to say that about my fellow officers, but it’s a reality. My colleague said he couldn’t speak to you, but if you just wanted background information about what is occurring here you should call John Bratten at the Johannesburg Star.”

  “I suppose that’s something. I’m not sure I can make a story out of trafficking. It doesn’t really go with my travel and leisure connections that Phillip got me. My poaching story isn’t making much progress either. Doesn’t the police force know of any and all investigations going on in the park?”

  “The park is really an entity unto itself. The park service is huge across the country, and they do much of their own policing. I’m not in a related department. I could try asking around casually, away from the official lines, to see what I discover.”

  “I know you’ve gone beyond the call of duty.”

  “Actually, I needed to tell you. My superintendent has closed the case on your uncle.”

  “What? But…”

  Rian raised his hands to stop her objections. “They don’t have any leads to follow. I think the park has called and asked them to warn me off. They are calling it random violence. The park investigation is over and I’m not to be involved anymore.”

  “But you said you would ask questions. I don’t have the resources to do it all on my own.” Tabitha looked away. Her chest felt tight and she clenched her fists into tight balls. She hated feelin
g helpless and, worse, depending on someone else. She bit her bottom lip.

  “I’ll see what I can find out from friends, but officially I’m off of it. They have so many cases. They can’t spend too much time on one with no new information. The pressure from the park to back off just settled it. I’ll do what I can for you.”

  Tabitha looked back to Rian. “Why are you helping me?”

  “Ah, well, you’re a nice enough person, aren’t you? A foreigner in our land in need of help.” He shrugged and looked away, but not before Tabitha saw the blush in his cheek.

  Oh, dear. Now, she wished she hadn’t asked. She needed help from official resources, and he was as close as she could get right now.

  “Well, nothing is tying together,” she said, bringing the subject back to the official. “I guess I understand their not wanting to investigate further. It’s just that I want to know what happened, and I don’t see how the pieces fit.” She sighed loudly. “I have a few more stories to get finished and my plane leaves next week. I don’t want to leave without answers.” She scuffed her boot at the dust covering the bricks. Her frustration squeezed her like a tight coat bursting at the seams. She wanted resolution.

  Rian was sympathetic and Tabitha was relieved that he seemed to put aside his romantic attentions toward her for the moment.

  After Rian took his leave, Tabitha checked with the office to guarantee her room for the evening. They informed her that a Mister M was most anxious for her to call. She chuckled. If she hadn’t happened by, how would she ever have gotten this anxious message? What a fascinating place.

  Mister M came on the line. “Mademoiselle Tabitha, you must come right away.”

  “Why? What’s wrong?” Tabitha’s hand went to her throat. Now what?

  “Nothing has gone wrong. I received your uncle and cremated him as we discussed, but he has brought bad ju-ju to my establishment and he must get out. Today, I am saying you must come today. My business suffers, you know.”

  Tabitha studied her watch and calculated the chances of getting back to the camp by 6 pm when the gates would close for the night. If she left immediately, she could just make it.

  “Did you find out any regulations I need to follow for…” she searched for a euphemism. “Transporting his…the urn?” She swallowed.

  “No, I am leaving this to you. I am finished with this affair.” Tabitha thought she heard a sound of hands being brushed together.

  “All right, okay. I’ll leave now.” Tabitha shook her head as she headed back to the reservations desk. This country made her more confused by the moment.

  She stopped at the desk and scrawled a note on a piece of paper for Daniel: I’m going into Nelspruit to collect my uncle’s remains. Will return around gate closing. Come by my rondavel and we’ll get some dinner, if you can.

  She folded the paper in half and, seeing no tape or stapler nearby, she simply wrote Daniel’s name on the outside and asked the woman at the counter to make certain that he got the message. The clerk cheerfully agreed.

  <><><>

  Once she was outside the park, the four-lane highway leading to Nelspruit clogged with rain. Tabitha had to slow her speed to match the visibility. She strummed the steering wheel with her left hand as she pushed along the highway. Something in Phillip’s pictures had been significant. Tabitha was sure now. That was why he was killed. It had to be for the film. Her picture, too, seemed to elicit a strange response.

  Vandenblok’s concern that she had taken pictures, followed by Mhlongo keeping the slide of the pen, seemed odd. Vandenblok appeared to be moving the animals legally, so it couldn’t be that. One could hardly move live animals over the border without drawing attention. Maybe they killed the animals once they got them out of the country, or maybe they hid drugs among the animal droppings. It was all so strange. Vandenblok didn’t seem like a drug lord, but what would she know?

  The heavy rains abated some as she reached the shacks making up the outskirts of Nelspruit. It was tricky to remember where the mortuary was, and several wrong turns cost her more time. Finally, she pulled up in front of the gas station turned funeral home. Plenty of parking this afternoon with no cars out front. She banged on the glass with her keys and was allowed entrance to the colorful lobby. The boy who let her in scurried off to get Mister M.

  He strode toward her, wearing a slightly-too-small gray suit and carrying a burgundy urn. His lips pressed firmly together.

  “Miss Cranz, you must take this man, your uncle, and go. Go from my establishment of business.”

  “Why is this so urgent? I paid the money you asked for.”

  “It isn’t about the money. The isangoma he come, and he see very bad things. This man is killed in violence. It is a very bad thing.”

  “But we knew he was killed. You knew.”

  “He says he is a troubled spirit. He found evil going on when he was killed. That’s why he was killed, because of what he knew.”

  “What did he know? I don’t understand.”

  “He saw something that the people who killed him did not approve of, so they had to do away with him. Now, if you please.” He gestured to the door.

  “Wait. Have you told the police all of this?”

  Mister M put his head back and laughed, but without humor. “The police don’t talk to isangoma, and vice versa as well. They do not respect one another’s work.”

  “But if this man could tell us something…” Tabitha remembered Daniel’s warning against the isangoma and shivered.

  “It is visions only, Miss Cranz. This is not evidence for you. I just need the bad spirits out of my place. I have had people fainting at my funerals. A frame holding a casket collapsed during another funeral, and on and on. It is very unfortunate for me. Please, Miss. This man’s spirit is not at rest.” His large round eyes pleaded with her, and Tabitha felt this man’s fear. It was contagious. She looked at the urn in her hands and a tear welled up in her eye. Poor Phillip.

  The more Tabitha thought about it as she drove back toward the park, she realized that the isangoma hadn’t told Mister M anything he couldn’t deduce by knowing Phillip’s profession and that he had a bullet in his head. Whether it was deductive skills or the spiritual realm, it made Tabitha cringe to think of Phillip’s last moments. She was relieved to think the bullet had killed him, and he wasn’t conscious when the animals got him. She wished she could dispel the cloud of gloom and fear that Mister M seemed to have delivered along with Phillip’s urn.

  Chapter 43

  Pieter and Mhlongo stopped cleaning out the giraffe pen when they heard the sound of a motorbike approaching the campsite. The dusk light picked out a column of sand the bike kicked up as it came. The sound grew louder.

  When it drew into camp and the motor cut, both Pieter and Mhlongo swore in their individual native languages.

  Sy’s emaciated frame hopped lightly off the motorbike and he sauntered in like he came each week for tea.

  “I got work for you mens. I came to help you earn some moneys, big moneys.”

  Pieter seemed to pull himself up taller and stepped toward the man, brushing his hands off on his pants. Mhlongo took a stance at his right shoulder.

  “I’m sorry, Sy. I’m a legitimate businessman here, discussing animal movement with the top ranger of the park. I don’t recall asking you to come by, nor wanting to do any business with you.”

  Sy let out a dry cackle. “I know that lorry of yours does more than move animals, and I have a proposition for you.”

  “I don’t want anything to do with drugs or your type,” Pieter said, crossing his arms on his chest.

  “No?” Pieter shook his head. Sy continued, “That’s good, since I not in the drug business anymore. Well, not too much.” He snickered to himself.

  Mhlongo pulled a knife from a sheath and started sharpening it in a menacing way.

  “Gentmens,” Sy said, holding up open hands, “I know that your special lorry carries more than what you make it say it carries. J
ust so we all understand each other.” He paused. “So why not do Sy a little favor and carry a few more things? I can make it worth it.”

  Silence. A pop of cooling engine from the motorbike. Shifting of feet between the three men. The dusk had turned from colors to all gray. Soon it would be hard to see.

  “You not the least curious? I’ll tell you. I have some…shall we say workers, who need a cheap and quiet passage into Europe. I can send a handler and pay the expenses. He could be helpful to your people and you could,” he paused to lick his lips, “sample any of the workers you like that are, uh, adults. The young ones are promised, you see.”

  Pieter felt his face turning red with rage. Animals were one thing, but this was another entirely. “I have legal papers for everything I take across the world. I certainly would not take humans, no matter what you offered me.” He heard the rasp in his voice.

  Sy seemed not to notice. “You think about it, though. Yeah? I think authorities be interested in your special lorry and all that legal stuff if they get a tip and look real hard. Yeah, you think about it. I come talk to you again soon.”

  Sy turned to his motorbike and busted the quiet evening with the engine as it whined off toward the asphalt road.

  When all was silent, Pieter swore again in Dutch and muttered, “I’d turn him in if I didn’t think he’d talk. Despicable. How’d he find out about our extra goods?” Mhlongo shrugged.

  Another long pause between them and suddenly the tall blond man shoved Mhlongo so hard he went to the ground, and he kicked him. “God, I can’t believe you are so stupid to use my lorry with dealings like that.”

  Mhlongo curled into a ball as the punches and kicks came. “Baas, I didn’t know he moves people. I swear it. I would never.”

  Pieter stopped the pummeling, which was more fury than strength in this unfocused moment. “Okay. You didn’t mean to. You don’t agree with taking people. All right then, if you’re so righteous, do something about it. I never want to see Sy again and don’t link it back to me in any way.”