Mark of the Lion

by Suzanne Arruda

  Jade shook her head. “Avery shot first. It’s his. I’m just glad it can’t come back after the men tonight.” She stood apart and watched as the others swarmed over the carcass like hungry scavengers. Even Memba Sasa took part in the poking, measuring, and general conquest of the beast’s remains. He drew a knife and, after using it to measure the hind limbs, cut a small bit of hair from the lion’s very sparse mane.

  “Hey!” said Jade suddenly. “That’s the wrong lion.” The others looked up in astonishment and stared at her as though she had spoken some foreign gibberish.

  “Impossible,” declared Roger with more venom than Jade had heard in his voice before. “We tracked the blood trail from the compound wall itself.”

  “No. This lion has no mane to speak of.”

  “Of course not, Miss del Cameron.” Roger sounded like a weary adult instructing an annoying, ignorant child. “The Tsavo males aren’t the same as the Serengeti lions. We explained that to you yesterday.”

  Jade clenched and released her fist with mounting impatience. “That’s the point,” she persisted. “The lion in the compound last night did have a big mane. I saw it when he moved into the firelight just before he jumped the fence.” She looked to the others for confirmation without results. Madeline and Beverly had stayed behind in their tents, Avery had arrived after the lion cleared the boma wall, and Roger had fallen into Harry before the cat moved into the light.

  Harry moved to the cat’s rear quarters and examined the hind legs. “If you need more proof, it’s right here,” he said. “There’s a fairly fresh scrape on the hind leg where your bullet grazed it last night.”

  Jade stepped forward and examined the leg. The wound looked fresh, and a spot of red came away on her fingertips. “It’s bleeding,” she said. “It should have scabbed over by now.”

  Harry shook his head. “Not necessarily. Walking out here in all this thorn would either keep it open or reopen it easily enough. You probably saw shadows and thought it was the mane. It’s what everyone expects to see.”

  Jade scowled again but didn’t answer his patronizing suggestion. True, a running animal might bleed longer, but the wound itself looked wrong. A grazing bullet should have scraped off some hide on either side and made a troughshaped wound. This looked too sharp and fresh.

  “Photograph it, Jade, before the men skin it out,” said Avery.

  Jade handed her Winchester to Pili and started to take the camera bag instead. She stopped in midreach. “Is that the lion that clawed your tent, Pili?” she asked.

  The young Somali shrugged. “It was dark, mistress. I mostly saw his claws.”

  Jade turned her outward attention to gratifying Avery’s good-natured vanity. Inwardly, something didn’t feel right about the entire episode, but she couldn’t pinpoint what was awry.

  The Wakamba skinned out the cat with swift, expert strokes before they hauled it back to the base camp. The rhino head had been attended to on its arrival to camp, and they stretched out the great lion skin near it. Avery examined his two trophies like a child with new toys, and Beverly smiled as she watched him. Her “Isn’t he wonderful” came out more as a statement of fact than as a question. Jade didn’t bother to reply, but Madeline, more sympathetic to the emotions of a new bride, agreed. The two women discussed the relative merits of their spouses while Jade cleaned her Winchester. Eventually, Beverly noticed Jade’s pensive silence and nudged Madeline.

  “I’m dreadfully sorry, love,” said Beverly. “Here we are carrying on like two love-struck schoolgirls without a thought to you.”

  “I assure you, I don’t mind in the least,” replied Jade while peering down the barrel. “I actually found it rather amusing.”

  Beverly frowned. “You really must stop dwelling on David,” she said finally. “I know you miss him terribly, but you cannot”—she searched for the word she wanted—“focus on him any longer.” She put a gentle hand on her friend’s shoulder. “There will be someone else for you someday; I know it.”

  Jade looked at the hand and then locked her green eyes on Beverly’s. “You know nothing of the sort, Bev,” she said softly. “But,” she added, “I wasn’t thinking about David just now.”

  “Oh?”

  “No. I’m still bothered by that lion Avery shot.”

  “Roger’s convinced it’s the same one,” said Madeline. “And Harry—”

  Jade held up her hand to interrupt. “I know you put prodigious faith in Harry, Madeline, including his ability to make me forget David.” She frowned at Madeline, and the latter ducked her head from Jade’s penetrating eyes. “Nevertheless, they’re both wrong.” She finished with her rifle and set it on her lap. “There’s something wrong about a lot of things,” she muttered.

  “Such as?” asked Madeline.

  “Such as why the lion last night went for Pili in his tent rather than one of the exposed men sleeping outside. Such as the way Memba Sasa tracked today. Did you notice? He barely looked at the ground or the vegetation. I did. I didn’t see any blood spoor.” She took a deep breath and exhaled in a loud huff. “I don’t like that man.”

  “Who?” asked Bev. “Memba Sasa? What’s wrong with him?”

  “I don’t know for certain. Nothing and everything.”

  “Oh, well, that’s specific,” said Beverly in a sarcastic tone. “Really, Jade, you are just overwrought. I worried that this entire assignment would be too much for you. We all know you’re tremendously brave and positively splendid, but there is a limit to what anyone can endure. I’m just glad that your crusade to find David’s brother is over.” She smiled and nodded in the direction of the men. “You were right, darling. You did find him out here.”

  “And how wonderful for Roger,” added Madeline. “The poor boy’s had such a run of bad luck. Maybe now he’ll move on with his life and marry that silly Leticia.”

  “Who’s Leticia?” asked Beverly.

  “A local girl,” answered Madeline. “Very pretty, but a little fool, if you ask me. Her father fell into debt and was bought out by Godfrey Kenton with Leticia thrown into the bargain even though Roger loved her. Godfrey was a bit of a dolt and a rounder. Pity how he died though.” She shuddered. “It was horrid finding him.”

  “We don’t know how he died,” said Jade. “I still think he was murdered and his body tossed onto Colridge’s land to confuse the issue. That car proved he was at the flumes.”

  “But not that he was killed there,” added Beverly. “I’m inclined to agree with the commissioner. He may have been drunk, passed out, and died of exposure.”

  “And his body just happened to get hauled for miles?” Jade asked.

  “Maybe Leticia shot him,” suggested Madeline. “But I can’t see that little thing moving his body. She’d need an accomplice. Just about everyone hated him. I know Harry did.”

  “So did Donaldson, and Roger’s still in love with her,” said Jade. “At least if the way he behaved at the Muthaiga Club is any indication.”

  “Well, then, perhaps Roger will get Leticia after all, if that Mrs. Estes person takes her claws out of him,” added Beverly. “I got the impression he was one of her toys, her many toys.”

  Jade rose from her seat. “How can anyone keep up with these webs that people weave down here? I just want to find a killer. But with Kenton buried, we’re not likely to find the real cause of death, and everyone has a motive. With Gil, I know how he died; I just have no idea why.” She headed for her tent.

  As she turned away, Bev called after her, “How is your knee handling the walking?”

  Jade stopped and shook her leg. “It’s fine. In fact it only seems to hurt on two different occasions. One, when it’s going to rain.”

  “And what’s the other occasion?” prompted Bev.

  “When something’s about to kill one of us.”

  Later in the afternoon, Roger led the crew out to hunt for the pot. Harry had scheduled a day trip to the Chyulu Hills and they needed enough food to last the meat-eati
ng Wakamba until they returned. This time Memba Sasa came along, but Jade noticed he acted more like Roger’s bodyguard and less like a tracker. Pili insisted on accompanying Jade. The Mannlicher required considerable repair to be usable; consequently, there was little need of a gun bearer. Jade reasoned that he wanted to make amends by being responsible for her camera if not for her extra gun.

  He was certainly an interesting young man, she thought. Handsome, too, with his finely chiseled features, glowing bronze complexion, black hair, and clear hazel eyes. Before this hunt, she’d examined his wound for any sign of pustulance and discovered he spoke French. At least he swore in that language when she peeled off the stuck bandage and took a few arm hairs with it. Well, he was French Somali, and Jade recalled that Lord Colridge said he went to school at the mission. That certainly reckoned with the gold cross and chain around his neck. Perhaps she could write an article about him. She made a mental note to ask him about his life working for the flamboyant old horse breeder.

  Two rifle reports disrupted her thoughts. Madeline brought down a Thomson’s gazelle with her shot, but Beverly, who had never hunted before, attempted to use her husband’s largercaliber rifle. The sharp recoil brought her onto her backside as neatly as Madeline’s shot brought down the Tommy. Jade stifled her laughter by looking away. Beverly kicked her friend in the ankle anyway.

  “That’s for thinking about laughing,” she said and then broke out in a melodious chuckle. Her husband pulled her up and kissed her while the others pretended not to see.

  Harry and Ruta followed the herd in hopes of bagging a second animal and left Roger, Memba Sasa, and several Wakamba to deal with Madeline’s Tommy. Soon after, they heard the report of Harry’s rifle. Roger dispatched a couple more Wakamba to assist with whatever his partner had bagged.

  “You chose a good man for a partner,” said Avery.

  “Who, Harry? Yes, he’s quite a good chap,” replied Roger with little feeling. He peered at Jade. “You’re a cool one, too, Miss del Cameron,” he added. “After watching you toy with that rhino and fire into the lion this morning, I doubt anything rattles you.”

  Jade was too taken aback by the personal comment to reply. Beverly jumped in.

  “She is positively amazing, Mr. Forster. It’s no wonder your brother took such a fancy to her. The only time I ever saw our Jade rattled, as you put it, is when she had to transport a load of shell-shocked soldiers and they started laughing in the most insane—” Beverly saw Jade’s lips tighten and stopped. “I’m sorry, love. I shouldn’t have brought it up. I’m a bloody fool.”

  “Quite all right, Bev,” Jade whispered. But it wasn’t. The reminder of that terrible experience sickened her. Jade declined Harry’s offer of an evening stroll just outside the boma and retired early that night, grateful that no unwanted visitors entered the compound.

  His body swayed rhythmically to the barely mumbled chants as he sat naked on the ground. No chance for a fire here. Too many nosy humans about. He put a piece of dried weed under his tongue and let its magic work through him, feeling it dribble first down into his stomach, hot and potent. The heat entered his blood and coursed through his arteries, feeding his muscles. Though his eyes were shut, he could see. He saw the wild predators of the night and mentally sorted through them all. The jackal was too small. The leopard turned and ran when he bent his thoughts to it. None would face the ointment smeared on the heathen’s tent. No worry, the heathen would fall. And the woman? She was too clever, and consequently, too dangerous. He would take care of her himself. There would be an opportunity soon enough.

  CHAPTER 22

  “The Shaitani lava flows at the western edge of Tsavo are less than two hundred years old. Local legends say that many villagers were trapped and buried by this cataclysm, and some claim that their plaintive cries can yet be heard issuing from the many lava caves nearby. It’s not good to investigate those cries. The caves can be treacherous, as the bones of many hapless animals attest.”

  —The Traveler

  A HALF DOZEN WAKAMBA MEN TOTED VARIOUS parcels to the cars the next morning, and Jade found Harry supervising. She handed him a mug of steaming coffee and a slab of grilled meat rolled in stone-baked flat bread and bit into her own portable breakfast.

  “I presume we’re taking the cars today?” she said between mouthfuls.

  Harry gulped some coffee and nodded. “The cars were Roger’s idea. I wasn’t too sure about them myself, but I’m beginning to appreciate them. Tsavo’s a hell of a place to walk in.”

  “Assuming they don’t run dry.”

  “Assuming. But we’re close to the headwaters of the river.” He nodded in the general direction of Mount Kilimanjaro. “Between snowmelt, runoff, and springs, most of the headwaters flow year-round. Should see some good game there. Elephants. Interesting scenery, too.”

  “The Chyulu Hills?”

  Harry nodded. “You’ll get a good view from Poacher’s Lookout.” He turned abruptly to one of the porters. “Not the Ford, the other one. Careful with those petrol cans.”

  “I should leave you to your work,” she offered and turned to go.

  Harry dropped his tin coffee mug and grabbed her arm. “Don’t go.”

  Jade pretended not to understand. “I shouldn’t go to Poacher’s Lookout?”

  Harry frowned and pulled her closer. “You know damn good and well what I meant, Jade. You’re too clever, and I’m being too obvious to let you misunderstand.” He sniffed at her loose black hair. “Ah, for once you aren’t wearing that awful hat.”

  “Yes, I know. Beverly insists it smells like something rude.”

  Harry laughed a deep bass rumble. “I just bet she does. Dunbury’s a lucky man. I should be so lucky.” His voice sounded seductively husky.

  “Harry,” Jade began. He shushed her with a scarred finger to her lips.

  “I know all the objections already. I’m forty-two years old, and you’re still in love with a dead man. Probably more in love with him because he’s dead.” He held her to him and bent down to her face. “But I promise you I can help you get over him if you let me.”

  Jade put her own hand over his mouth before he could kiss her. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find you very attractive, Harry, but I need time. Lots of time.” She felt his sigh shudder from his chest and down his arms like the early rumbling warnings of a volcano.

  “You’ll think about it then?”

  “I have been already,” she replied.

  He kissed the fingers that rested on his chin. “Guess I can’t ask for more than that.”

  He released her, and Jade walked back to the tents, conscious of his gaze on her the entire way. Madeline and Beverly met her by the boma gate and pretended to only then discover her.

  “Oh, there you are,” exclaimed Beverly. “We were looking for you.”

  “Liar,” said Jade. “I’m sure you knew the cook gave me Harry’s breakfast to take to him. How long have you been spying on me?”

  “Spying?” protested Madeline. “It’s too dark yet to be spying.” She didn’t continue after Jade glared at her.

  “Oh, give it up, Madeline dear,” said Beverly. “Our Jade knows us too well.” She fixed her own soft blue eyes on Jade and smiled an enigmatic Mona Lisa smirk. “In answer to your question, long enough. Do we congratulate him? He’s a lucky man, or at least a very brave one.” Bev ducked, and Jade’s empty coffee mug flew harmlessly overhead and clattered on the ground.

  “There’s nothing to congratulate him about,” Jade said through gritted teeth. “Unless you count my turning him down as grounds for congratulations.”

  Madeline pouted, and Beverly scowled. “He’s worth a fling at least,” offered Beverly.

  “I don’t fling.”

  Beverly glanced back at the coffee cup on the ground. “I don’t know about that.”

  Jade casually picked up the dirty coffee cup and walked to her tent. “Better pack it up,” she called over her shoulder. “We’re heading
out soon.”

  Jade rode next to Roger in the Dodge with Pili, Ruta, and Memba Sasa. The route was too bumpy to allow much conversation. Once she tried to discern his future plans, but Roger said little and only smiled when Leticia’s name came up. “You could rebuild your ranch,” Jade suggested, “and stop running safaris.” A particularly nasty bump that Roger could have avoided put an end to all conversation.

  Harry and Roger stopped the cars near an ancient baobab tree next to the northernmost tributary of the Tsavo. Long shadows sprawled westward, fleeing the rising sun.

  “We’ll head on later to the Shaitani lava flow, but for now, I want to take you to the top of Poacher’s Lookout,” said Harry. “You’ll get a grand view of the Chyulu Hills from there.” He pointed across the tributary to a tall mound. “No sense chancing the cars across the riverbed. We’ll walk.”

  “Is it safe to cross on foot?” asked Avery.

  “Up here it is. Crocs don’t seem to like the shallow, fastmoving water. But anytime you have to cross water, you cross as a large body, not as individual tidbits.”

  “Lovely,” exclaimed Beverly. “I don’t fancy becoming an hors d’oeuvre to a handbag.”

  “I assure you,” said Harry, “the view will be well worth the hike.”

  They crossed the tributary and trudged up the rocky slope of Poacher’s Lookout. Black basaltic boulders, nearly bare of lichens, stuck out at sharp angles and provided steps to the top. Jade reached the summit first, climbing from rock to rock like an agile mountain goat. Pili followed at a slightly slower rate, trailed by the Dunburys and Madeline. Harry and Roger along with Ruta brought up the rear for protection. Memba Sasa stayed at the cars, aloof as usual.

  Jade’s eyes had no room for anything besides the magnificent, snowcapped volcanic mountain of Kilimanjaro to the southwest. “My stars,” she exclaimed. “And I thought the Rocky Mountains were beautiful.”