Lioness

by Nell Brien

  She held the picture out to him, but Tom did not look at it, or make a move to take it from her.

  In the silence, the peal of the phone seemed inordinately loud. Campbell picked it up. “Campbell.”

  “Bwana, a horse has been found in front of the ivory barn,” Moses’s voice said.

  “A horse?” Campbell said, incredulous.

  “I had a little moonlight ride,” Cat said. “Over to the barn where the ivory is stored.” Quickly, she added, “I called Father Gaston to tell him about it. He knows I’m here. He’s going to the authorities.”

  “I think not, Cat,” Stephen N’toya said gently.

  “Don’t bank on it, Stephen. If anything happens to me, if I don’t return to Nairobi tomorrow, Father Gaston will be paying a visit to the American embassy.”

  N’toya showed perfect white teeth in what passed for a smile and shrugged. “Well, if you insist.”

  Campbell hung up the phone. “Christ, Cat! Couldn’t you let well enough alone?”

  “Is the mare okay?”

  “Yes. The men thought she was being attacked by a lion.”

  Cat just stared at him.

  “Very clever,” Campbell said, and she shrugged. “So now you know more than you should,” he said. “I wish you had taken my word—”

  “Oh, Campbell, please! Enough bullshit. I saw the ivory. I’ve heard the lies.” She kept her eyes on him. “Now it’s time for a little truth, don’t you think?”

  “Now is the time to keep silent,” N’toya said in Swahili. “To tell her anything will jeopardize all that we’ve done—”

  In English, Campbell said, “Stephen, this has to stop. She has to be told the truth.”

  Stephen answered in Swahili. “Too much is at stake.”

  Campbell answered in the same language. “What? In a few days, she will be back in Los Angeles where she belongs. Nothing’s at stake.” Nothing for N’toya, anyway. Tom had already paid his price. And his own, Campbell thought, would be paid bit by bit for the rest of his life without her.

  “She can still be dangerous,” Stephen insisted.

  “Christ, Stephen,” Campbell said wearily. “What the hell is the risk? Your political future if it comes out we’ve been stealing ivory? That’s no worry. The end will justify the means, just as it always does in politics.”

  “What if she does go to the Americans? They will demand we reopen an investigation. It’s been done in the past—you remember the English? The girl killed by game wardens? They didn’t let it rest.”

  “Hardly the same thing. She will not go to the authorities.”

  “No, n’duga, I’ll make sure of that.” N’toya switched to English and said to Cat, “Joel killed two men. He was responsible for the deaths of several others—”

  Cat reached behind her, felt for the desk to steady herself. “I don’t believe you—”

  Stephen’s voice rode over her protest. “…and for the escape of Reitholder from custody. That is the truth you have been seeking.”

  “Stephen, for Christ’s sake!” Campbell said. He picked up a decanter, splashed brandy into a glass, put an arm around her and held it to her lips. Over her head, he looked at N’toya. “You sorry bastard. What was the point of that?”

  Cat pushed the glass away. “What is he talking about?”

  “The night Joel died,” Campbell answered.

  “Not quite,” N’toya said. “You want her to know. Do it, or I will.”

  Campbell hesitated, glanced briefly at Tom, then said, “All right. The ivory in the barn was taken initially by poachers. Then my men and I took it from them. Tom, Moses, Sambeke, Thomas, Olentwalla, others you don’t know. Zama, some of the people at the compound.” He stopped her from interrupting. “It’s true, we do operate outside the law, but not entirely without an official brief. We’re a commando, to use the old Boer term. We’re highly mobile and our job is to go after poachers, engage them whenever and wherever we can. The ivory trade is worth millions. It’s like the drug trade—ministers paid off by poachers, the army corrupted.” Campbell paused, looked again at Tom. Tom’s face showed nothing of what he was feeling, and Campbell went on. “You won’t find our names on any government payroll. We answer to only one man, the head of the Kenya Wildlife Service, and through him, to the president of Kenya. Stephen here is the liaison between us.”

  “I don’t care about all that,” Cat said. “Tell me what you mean about my brother.”

  “Cat, if you understand the framework—”

  Stephen N’toya interrupted impatiently. “You wanted to know, so listen. We know the South African military is deeply implicated in the poaching of ivory and skins in East Africa. The Afrikaners fuel corruption, destroy our resources, funnel the cash from the sale of the ivory to political organizations—right or left, they don’t discriminate as long as they destabilize the chosen country. What we need is proof that will hold up. Proof that links the Afrikaner Broederhood with the political underground working to destabilize this country. When we get it, we will take it to a court of law.”

  Cat held his eyes. “None of this makes my brother a murderer. How could you say that? He was never involved in anything like that. What would he know of Afrikaners?”

  N’toya started to answer but Campbell raised a hand to silence him. Then he said flatly, “We involved Joel by using his safari as a cover to track smuggling routes.”

  The crackle of the fire was suddenly the only sound in the room.

  “Did Joel know that?” Cat asked finally.

  “No. I planned the route to take us where we needed to go. I showed him sites on the way.”

  She stared at him. “What are you saying?” She spoke slowly. “You’re telling me that you really were responsible for his death.” She looked at Tom, leaning motionless against the wall by the door. “And you, Tom. You, too. Why don’t you say something?”

  Campbell picked up the decanter, poured brandy into a glass, put the glass down without drinking. He could not bear to look at Tom’s face again. This was getting too close….

  Cat wanted to scream: Joel wouldn’t kill anyone. But he would, she thought. Oh, yes. Pushed hard enough, he would.

  “What happened?” she forced herself to ask. “What made him do…what you say he did?”

  Cat shifted her eyes from man to man. Tom looked as if his world had narrowed to the patch of floor just in front of his boots.

  “Tom?” she said.

  Campbell did not give him a chance to answer. He said, “We came across evidence of recent poaching activity. You’ve seen it, you know how it is. What we saw was worse. Your brother was pretty upset by it. The next afternoon we ran smack into Reitholder and about twenty men.” He stopped. “Jesus Christ, you don’t want to hear this.”

  “I do. Tell me,” Cat insisted.

  “They’d taken down an entire herd with machine guns,” Campbell said harshly. “They were still hacking off tusks, but several of the elephants were not yet dead. Reitholder was laughing, watching them—”

  Cat put both hands to her ears. “My God, what are you saying?”

  “You have to understand what happened, Cat,” Campbell went on. “Joel had been under a strain for days, he looked terrible, wasn’t sleeping or eating. Maybe it was the extent of the slaughter we’d seen. He’d taken a lot of pictures—really grim stuff. You’ve seen them. We’re used to this kind of life, we don’t talk about it afterward.” Campbell ran a hand across his mouth. He was sweating. “At the time, it seemed the best thing to do was to let him alone. Maybe that was a mistake. It turned out, he was more affected by it than I realized.”

  He must have found the terrorist camp around that time, Cat thought, horrified. “I saw a terrorist’s poaching camp that he’d seen,” she said. “I recognized it from the sketches he sent me. They arrived weeks after his funeral.” She looked at Campbell. “I told you about the sketches, but I didn’t tell you I’d found the place. It’s close to Maasai Springs.”


  She thought of the pile of dead lion cubs she’d seen at that terrible camp on the escarpment. The drying racks. The bloody tusks. What that would have done to him. “If it was like the camp I saw with you, he must have been…” She stopped, and the men waited. She felt crowded by the sheer physical presence of them. They stood, watching her. Even Tom had his eyes on her now.

  To get over the moment of terror, she told them about the papers printed in Chinese blowing across the bare ground. The scraps of rope like that used by Reitholder to bind tusks.

  N’toya gave a dismissive grunt. “Too bad Joel chose not to mention all this. We could have told him something to reassure him. The fact is that we knew about that camp. We’d had an eye on it for months, hoping General Francis would show up there in person. He never did, unfortunately. So our people—” he gestured at Tom and Campbell “—attacked it and it was dismantled. Just about the time you arrived in Nairobi, as a matter of fact. What you found was the skeleton.”

  Joel didn’t tell them because he knew he couldn’t trust anyone, Cat thought. He must have been so alone.

  N’toya was looking at her with something like sympathy. “I regret we had to deceive him, Cat. I met him the night before he left Nairobi. He hadn’t changed much. We sat up late, and I told him I’d join him for part of his safari so we could take pictures like we used to in our college days. He never questioned it.”

  “You’ve made some terrible accusations against my brother,” she said to him. “But you still haven’t told me what happened.”

  N’toya started to answer, but Campbell cut in. “Your brother was a brave man,” Campbell said carefully. “When we came across Reitholder, I couldn’t just let the bastard go on, it was too good a chance to put him away. But we were outgunned. Suddenly Joel became a different man. Completely rational, cold, businesslike, clear about what needed to be done. He insisted on taking part. He proved he could handle weapons, so…” Campbell shrugged. “We needed the help. I armed him and told him to watch our backs. He took orders, carried them out without argument. The trouble started when it was over. He wanted Reitholder executed, right there in the field. Unfortunately, there were political implications I couldn’t tell him about. We took Reitholder alive because we can prove he is a serving military officer, a colonel in the army of South Africa, part of a secret cabal. I ordered Joel to turn in the weapon he’d been issued and he refused. He had to be disarmed. He didn’t make it easy.”

  Stephen N’toya said, “He shot and killed two men.”

  Cat looked at Campbell. Her lover. She felt sick and weak. “So you shot him.”

  “No,” Campbell replied. “Of course not. I had him bound and roped to the wheel of a Land Rover. But when the watch was changed at 2:00 a.m., three guards were found with their throats cut—”

  “No. No. No. Joel did not…” Cat started to shake her head, back and forth, back and forth, trying to eradicate the image. “He did not do that—”

  Quickly, Campbell broke in. “No. No, Cat, listen. Joel was not there. He was gone. Reitholder had taken him as a hostage. We followed their tracks. Unfortunately, we found his body the next day, well into Tanzania.” He picked up one of her hands. “Reitholder had shot him,” he said gently.

  Cat remembered the vultures she had seen circling above the kills, the bones picked clean, the scavengers scurrying away with what was left until no trace remained. She thought of the ugly gray metal carrying case containing Joel’s plain wooden coffin being lowered from the 747. Had his body really been in there? She couldn’t ask…couldn’t speak. Stricken, she stared at Campbell.

  “Your brother’s blood was avenged.” The voice was Tom’s, but deep and harsh, torn from his chest.

  “Tom,” Campbell said warningly. “There is no need for any more. It is enough.”

  Tom ignored him. “We found the knife used to slice through the ropes and the throats of the guards. It was in the possession of the fifth man in the picture you saw. And we found money, also. A great deal of money. You are right. That was my brother in the photograph. He dishonored his people and himself. He dishonored me. It was he who took a bribe from the Afrikaner. He cut the throats of men who trusted him. So I killed him. I killed him in the ancient manner of our mother’s people.”

  “Tom, that’s enough,” Campbell said.

  Tom’s face was gray, beaded with sweat. He spoke only to Cat. “No one dared interfere with what I had to do. I was heavily armed.”

  Campbell was staring at the floor. Cat looked uncertainly at Stephen N’toya. He gazed back impassively.

  “I took him into the bush,” Tom said, “and I killed him by tearing out his heart with my hands. Then I threw his body to the hyenas.”

  Cat leaned her forehead on one hand. In her mind she could see how it must have been—Tom threatening the circle of men to keep back, the flickering light playing across their faces as he dragged his brother into the darkness, away from the watch fire. She could hear the screams.

  “Your brother’s blood was avenged,” Tom said again. “His spirit is appeased.”

  Cat could say nothing. She couldn’t nod. Couldn’t acknowledge his words. Her body was numb.

  Campbell broke a long silence. “Blood money was paid to the families of the men killed. It is the traditional way, and they were satisfied. All of the deaths were attributed to poaching activity. Joel, as an American, was reported as being trampled to death by buffalo. Stephen’s presence was not mentioned.”

  “This is politically sensitive, I think you can see that,” Stephen said. “No charges can be brought in connection with Joel’s death. I’m deeply sorry. Joel was my friend. But I hope you understand that there can be no further investigation.” He paused, then said, “I am sure you don’t want Joel branded as a killer.”

  She looked at him numbly. “I don’t need that warning from you.”

  The sound of the telephone tearing through the room was a relief.

  Thirty-Eight

  Campbell grabbed up the phone, barked his name.

  “We are under attack,” Moses yelled. Behind the voice, Campbell heard the grind of machinery, the rattle of gunfire.

  “What’s their strength?” he asked urgently, but the line was already dead.

  He banged the receiver down. “The barn’s under attack. Tom, rouse the men at the compound.” He crossed the room, wrenched open a gun cupboard, took an AK from the rack inside, tossed it to Tom as he spoke. “Stephen, get Jock, tell him to come armed. Tell him I don’t know who it is or their strength. The line’s been cut.” He slammed a couple of AKs and extra clips on the desk, shoved ammunition in his pockets. He started toward the door.

  “It’s Reitholder,” said Stephen, following. “Francis is there, too. This brought him out, I knew it would. It’s the chance we’ve been waiting for, see if this bastard is who we think he is. I don’t know their strength. I thought I had time to find that out, another week, ten days.” His eyes glittered with excitement. “But we’ve got them. We’ve got them together. It’s what we’ve been waiting for. I knew they’d come for it.”

  Campbell and Tom were already at the front door. Campbell turned. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “My people found out that Reitholder is being recalled to Johannesburg. This was the only way. I dropped a word about our ivory into the right ear and—”

  Campbell did not let him finish. “You brought a gang of murderous thugs down on Erukenya? On Erukenya? On Cat and Morag and Mary?”

  “I didn’t think they’d attack so soon. That’s what I’m here to warn you so you would be ready for them.”

  “You lethal bastard!”

  Swiftly, Tom moved between the two men. He shoved an AK into Stephen’s hands. “Take this. You’re going to need it.”

  Campbell threw a glance at Cat, saw the AK in her hand. “Good. Let’s hope you won’t need it. Go rouse the household. N’kosi will know what to do. Stay with him.”

  Jock raced from the inter
ior of the house, rifle in hand, pistol thrust into his belt, his jacket weighed down with ammunition. Campbell did not waste time on explanations. He knew his father didn’t need to be told what was happening.

  “Don’t worry about the compound,” Jock said quickly. “I’ll take care of the ammunition, send up reinforcements. You get to the barn. N’kosi’s got Morag and Mary safe. You go with them, Cat. N’kosi knows what to do here.”

  “Good, Jock. Right,” Campbell said. “Send Aaron with four men to me at the cedar grove south of the barn. You come in from the north with Zama and his people. Then move west, toward the main doors. We’ll come up from the south. We’ll hold them between us.”

  Jock waved, disappeared into the darkness. Campbell got behind the wheel of the Land Rover in front of the house, Tom and Stephen hard behind him. The vehicle was already moving when Cat hurled herself into the back seat. N’toya grabbed her shirt, hauled her in as the vehicle rocketed down the drive.

  Campbell stood on the brake. “Cat, get back to the house.”

  “I’m coming with you.”

  Campbell jumped out, jerked the door open, reached to drag her out. Cat fumbled in the pouch of her sweatshirt. The crump of a heavy-caliber weapon came from the barn, and Tom got himself behind the wheel, threw the Land Rover into gear, started it moving. For a breath of time, Campbell looked at a pistol wavering in Cat’s hand, then at her eyes. The pistol wavered uncertainly, but her wide eyes were steady.

  “Dan! Come on!” The vehicle moved faster. Campbell slammed Cat’s door, ran to the passenger seat, jumped in as Tom floored the gas.

  “It can’t go wrong!” N’toya raised an excited voice to be heard above the engine. “They’ve broken cover. Reitholder’s out there with Francis because I told them. We flushed them. They’ve come after our ivory. I knew they would. We’ve got them.”

  Tom skidded to a stop in a thicket of trees. Campbell was out of the Land Rover before it halted. Over his shoulder, he yelled at Cat. “Stay with the Land Rover.” He thought for once she’d have the sense to do as he said. The night was filled with confusion and noise—shouting men, the whine of engines, the crack of gunfire. “For God’s sake, Cat. Keep down.”