by Marie Moore
Settling back in the chair with his mug of coffee, Fernando’s somber mood changed as he began telling me another string of amusing tales, this time of his prior African adventures. His stories were light and funny, his serious words of warning seemingly forgotten.
But they were still there, beneath the laughter, somewhere in the shadows of his dark eyes. The warning remained, underneath the surface like the crocodile, lurking in the “grey-green waters of the Limpopo.”
Chapter 24
“Ladies and gentlemen,” David called, clapping his hands, from the center of the pavilion, “gather round, please, gather round. That was a splendid lunch, wasn’t it? A magnificent repast! Please join me in thanking our gracious host, Mr. van der Brugge, for bringing us to this spectacular place and giving us this unexpected treat.”
He swiveled his head, looking for our gracious host, but van der Brugge was gone.
Miffed that Henrik was not there to receive his flowery compliments, David plunged instead into a torrent of words, describing the options available to us for the afternoon and evening. What it basically boiled down to—when you winnowed out all the puff—was an optional afternoon game walk, cocktails, then dinner with entertainment by a local folkloric group performing traditional songs and dances.
“This special treat will be an unexpected delight. Please feel free to join in the singing and dancing at this most unusual entertainment.”
“Crass commercial exploitation, that’s all it is,” was Mabel’s acid comment. For once, however, she didn’t follow up her complaint with an impassioned speech. Mabel was definitely off her game.
David gave her a hard look, which she ignored. Then he introduced Rebecca, who gave housekeeping details and issued sleeping assignments, along with cautions about keeping our tents zipped shut when leaving them. She warned everyone not to venture out alone anywhere, particularly near the river.
“Don’t you worry one minute about that, sister,” Connie said. “I ain’t going nowhere near that river!”
Wendy and Tilda were whispering and giggling to each other as usual, but Mabel was still strangely silent. Again, I wondered what was going on with her and resolved to ask at first opportunity.
“The game walk will begin from this place at four o’clock p.m.,” Rebecca said. “Please be on time or you will be left behind. We must finish our walk before sunset. Remember to bring your cameras and binoculars.”
I hung around the deck until everyone headed to their tents. Then, instead of going to my tent, I found Mabel’s.
* * *
“Yes? What is it?”
Mabel poked her head out of the tent opening, clearly annoyed at being disturbed.
“Hi, Mabel. I’m sorry to bother you, but I wondered if you could spare a few moments to talk with me in private. I think it might be important.”
She looked to be on the verge of telling me to go away, but then she must have changed her mind. Unzipping the opening all the way, she motioned impatiently for me to enter.
“What’s on your mind, Sidney? Make it quick, I want to take a nap. I didn’t sleep much last night.”
“Mabel, I think we started off on the wrong foot, and I just wanted to say that I am in total agreement with you about the poaching of the rhino and elephants.”
“That’s nice,” she snapped. “But that’s not why you are here. You could say that anytime, in front of anyone.”
“Yes, you’re right. I could.”
“Well then, what is it? What did you come to tell me?”
“Mabel, Jay and I agree that there’s something strange about this particular camp. We think there might be things going on here behind the scenes that escape the notice of the regular visitor. Today, I noticed that you have been really quiet and distracted, and I wondered if you shared some of our misgivings about this operation. I even thought you might have noticed something or discovered information that we need to know. Jay and I are responsible to our agency for checking this tour out for our clients. We certainly don’t want to recommend anything that might be illegal or even dangerous for them.”
She gave me a searching stare, squinting those beady eyes at me. It made her look meaner and more wrinkled than ever. She was sizing me up, wondering if she could trust me.
Finally, she spoke. “Yes, Sidney, there is definitely something wrong here. I realized as soon as I got to this game lodge. I have a lot of experience in these matters. Before I retired and became a travel agent I used to work for the government. There is something going on here behind the scenes. I’m not ready yet to speak openly about it, but when I have one or two more facts nailed down I will. I’ll shout it to the heavens. I’ll tell the world. But I’m not quite ready. I am still finding things out. That’s why I’m so tired. I was up most of the night.”
“What is it? Will you tell me what you think is happening?”
“Like I said, Sidney, I’m still gathering information. When I have it all sorted out I’ll be happy to tell you and everyone else. I’m very close to finding out everything I need to know. Another piece of the puzzle fell into place today. That’s all I’ll say for now. But I wouldn’t plan to send any clients here if I were you. This operation may look beautiful to the casual observer, but underneath, it’s rotten.”
“I could help you—”
“No, you can’t,” she said, cutting me off in her rude way, “I don’t need your help. I don’t want your help. Actually, you’ve already helped me more than you know. If I need your assistance, I’ll ask for it. Now please leave. I have to sleep.”
With that, she clamped her mouth into the usual thin line, hustled me out of her tent, and zipped it shut.
* * *
On the way to my tent, I thought over Mabel’s words. She obviously shared our misgivings about Henrik van der Brugge’s safari operation, and was, by her own account, hard at work investigating it.
I felt a great relief. Our misgivings were clearly not just the products of overactive imaginations. It bothers me more than I want to admit that trouble seems to follow me around on trips. Mean old Diana says I attract trouble, as if that were somehow possible. Jay teases me and calls me “MM” for “murder magnet.” Even my friend Roz says I shouldn’t leave New York without a gun and a rabbit’s foot. It’s bad enough that all this bad stuff seems to happen on my trips. It would be even worse if I started imagining trouble where none exists.
So my relief after talking with Mabel was twofold. First, my suspicions were confirmed. That was comforting in an odd way. And secondly, Mabel’s dedication to her mission meant Jay and I weren’t going to have to snoop after all. We could leave it all up to Mabel. I sure didn’t want to get involved in any trouble if I could avoid it. Diana had given me strict instructions to steer clear of “unsavory situations.” There was something odd going on for sure, but it looked as if I wasn’t going to have to run point on this one.
Stop worrying, I told myself. Punt! Can the curiosity and leave it all up to Mabel.
The birds were singing overhead as I neared my tent, and the first of the spring flowers were popping out along the path. I resolved to stop worrying.
It was a beautiful day in a beautiful setting that was far removed from the concrete streets of my adopted home, New York, the city I love. I was lucky to be there and knew I might never have the chance again, so I made up my mind to shelve some of my misgivings about the camp operations and Dennis’ strange demise, relax, be happy, and enjoy the safari while it lasted. That should please both Jay and Diana. But Mr. Silverstein was not going to be happy. If what we suspected proved to be true, no High Steppers would be coming to Leopard Dance. We wouldn’t be recommending it.
Diana would just have to find him another safari lodge.
* * *
Once again, Jay and I were assigned to share accommodations. This time he wasn’t griping about it. I thought he was glad to have a roommate because we would be sleeping in tents without true walls or doors. He had calmed down about t
he animals at Leopard Dance, but here, in a new environment, his fears were returning. As soon as we entered our tent I learned that my guess was correct.
“A zipper,” he ranted. “A zipper! That’s all that will be keeping God knows who or what out of our tent tonight, Sidney. I’m not going to sleep a wink. A zipper. I ask you again, what on earth are we doing here? I wish I were back in camp, in good old Hut No. 1.”
I was sprawled in a rattan camp chair under the slow-moving blades of an old-fashioned ceiling fan and sipping a lemonade in a tall, frosted glass.
“I think it’s exciting, Jay. I love camping out, but camping for me is usually in a tiny dome tent with a Coleman lantern, not anything like this.”
“Well, this is pretty posh, but I wish we were back at Leopard Dance. It felt a lot safer than this does, no matter how fancy it is.”
The white canvas tent was huge, with a gleaming wooden floor and mahogany and rattan furniture. Twin four-poster beds, draped in white mosquito netting, were in the center of the room. There was a small ensuite toilet and shower. Really glamorous. I knew that once Jay conquered his fears, if he conquered his fears, he would love it.
“Jay, don’t get all spooked about the animals again. You sound just like George. Relax. We have a little time before the game walk.”
“You have a little time,” he said, hooking the netting back up and stretching out on his bed. “I have lots of time, because I’m not going.”
“What? Why not? You know the guards will be with us for the entire walk. It’s safe. They are armed.”
He waved his fingers at me. “Go! Bu-bye. Run along, Nature Girl. While you have fun, frolicking in the jungle, I’m going to the bar. I’ll see you when you get back. If you get back. If not, I’ll send a nice bouquet to your memorial service.”
* * *
I thought about Jay’s funeral flowers two hours later when a monster elephant angrily trumpeted not fifty feet in front of me.
“Please be very still and quiet,” Jerome whispered. “We are so close to him that he may charge if we anger him.”
Everyone froze, even Wendy and Tilda. Their round blue eyes were huge.
With Jerome, our local game spotter, in the lead, we had walked west along a grassy track out of the tented camp. We followed Jerome and a local guide named Simon. Vincent brought up the rear with his big rifle.
The path started near the river, wound through the brush, then came alongside the river again. David, Mabel, Rose, Tilda and Wendy, Rich, Fernando and even George had chosen to join the excursion. Chase, Connie, and Jay stayed at the bar. Just before we left, I had tried one last time to get Jay to go with us, but he still refused.
I was really surprised that George actually showed up at the meeting point. I’d have bet a week’s pay that he would have been too frightened to go. The fact that even George was willing to do the nature walk should have changed Jay’s mind, but it hadn’t.
“I don’t care if George is going,” he insisted, “or anybody else. It makes no difference. I’m staying right here, and that’s final.”
Willem, placing a bowl of snacks on the bar, overheard what Jay said and shook his head. His sly blue eyes crinkled with laughter. Eventually I gave up on Jay and joined the group on the steps.
The first part of the walk was uneventful. It was peaceful, really, with the calls of the birds and chatter of monkeys. I was happy. Walking in the sunshine, after the delightful lunch, I thought it was a near-perfect day.
We had only been gone about twenty minutes, merrily strolling along, when the huge elephant came up the bank from the river and blocked our path. At least, some of us were merry. Rose and Mabel were not speaking because Rose had finally gotten up the nerve at lunch to demand that she have separate accommodations from Mabel. Rose told David that she would no longer room with Mabel, either in the tented camp or back at Leopard Dance. Mabel, insulted, also had some choice words for Rose, so the two were not exactly chummy.
The path was well-worn, bordered with tall grass and scrub. Fresh tracks and spoor of numerous animals marked it, including giant balls of elephant dung. The dung beetles were hard at work trying to move those.
“Stand perfectly still and do not speak,” whispered Vincent, his eyes locked on the elephant. “This is his normal path, his territory. We should not have invaded it. If he approaches us, ease backwards, off the path. Move quietly into the weeds.” Sliding his rifle from his shoulder, he clicked off the safety.
The elephant’s massive ears flapped straight out as he stared at us, a sure sign of irritation. He raised his head and trumpeted. That did it for us, so we each started scooting backwards into the brush, hoping to appease him, or at least remove ourselves from his view. I thought we must be annoying him, as Vincent said, with our intrusive presence.
But I was wrong. We were not the objects of his anger.
Now hidden in the relative safety of the tall grass, I watched the massive beast trumpet again. Then he whirled and charged down the path in the direction of the river toward a small group of armed men, all wearing camouflage clothing. They had emerged suddenly from the reeds of the riverbank. One of the men raised his rifle.
“No!” screamed Mabel, rushing out of the brush and down the path after the elephant, waving her arms. “No. Don’t shoot, don’t shoot! Hold your fire. Don’t shoot him.”
The confused beast stopped in his tracks. Then he trumpeted again as he turned back up the path toward Mabel.
Panicked, George snatched Vincent’s rifle from his hands, aimed it at the frantic elephant, and fired.
But he didn’t shoot the elephant.
He shot Mabel.
Chapter 25
There was no folkloric performance that night.
Instead, an ambulance came for Mabel’s body, and the police came for George.
We were all in shock, particularly those of us who had witnessed the shooting—shocked over poor dead Mabel, over poor little frightened George, over the glimpse of the armed poachers and the sounds of the crazed elephant over all of it. Though Jay, Connie, and Chase had remained behind, they shared our horror and sadness.
The camp was in total chaos. Officials came and went. Everyone was questioned, and dinner was served on trays sent to our tents. We were all ordered to remain inside until the investigation into the shooting was completed. Finally, David sent word for us to be prepared to leave for Leopard Dance at first light.
Poor Mabel’s tent had been stripped. Rebecca said her things would be sent with us back to the safari camp, then held until her next of kin could be contacted.
“I know what you’re thinking, Sidney,” Jay said when we retired to our tent. “I recognize that look on your face.”
“What look?” I was staring at my dinner entree of wild game and rice. It would no doubt be excellent, as all the meals had been, but I had lost my appetite. I couldn’t eat. I put the lid back on my plate and poured a glass of cool water from the carafe instead.
Jay’s appetite was always good, in any circumstances. He had no problem eating.
“The Nancy Drew look,” he said as he chewed. “I can see it in your eyes. You want to find out what Mabel knew, don’t you? Leave it alone, babe. Don’t pick up the baton. Whatever’s going on here and at Leopard Dance wasn’t Mabel’s business and it’s not yours, either. We’re only in this country for a few days. You don’t have to save the world.”
I looked him straight in the eye. “I’m not trying to save the world, Jay. But yes, I would like to know what’s going on, and what Mabel knew. And yes, I do feel a certain responsibility to carry on her unfinished business. And that’s okay. I can’t help it. It’s who I am.”
Jay put his empty plate aside, picked up a corkscrew, and began opening a bottle of wine from the tray. “You can’t undo what’s happened, Sidney, or turn her tragic death into murder. It was an accident. You saw it. This safari operation may not be on the level, and it may be a cover for something else, but it’s not our problem, a
nd irregular or even illegal activity by this outfit is not the same as murder. Remember that what happened today was just a horrible accident, with witnesses. Here, try some of this. Maybe it will help.”
He poured me a glass of the wine. I took a sip and leaned back in my chair.“Two people have died, Jay.”
His eyes were fixed on me. “Yeah,” he said quietly, pouring his own glass, “but one was munched by a hungry cat. The other died because everyone panicked, and because George is a bad shot. I agree that something is not right in this operation, but that’s another matter entirely. It’s not connected to the two deaths.”
“Oh, yes, it is.”
“How?”
“I don’t know how. I haven’t worked that out yet. One death I can buy … maybe. But two just can’t be a coincidence. And besides, I have a bad feeling. I can’t explain it.”
“Look, Madame Zsa Zsa, put away the crystal ball for tonight. I say we’re not talking anymore about this until morning. You’re upset, I’m upset, and we are both exhausted. Tomorrow, Sidney, we’ll talk tomorrow. Now go to sleep, babe, just let it all go.”
Draining his glass, he grabbed his tiger-striped pajamas, went into the bathroom and closed the door. I heard the water start, but for once, there was no singing in the shower.
For a few moments, I remained where I was in the chair, sipping the last of my wine, thinking, planning. Then leaving my clothes on, I climbed into bed, turned off my lamp, rolled over facing the wall, and pulled the covers up to my ears.
If Mabel had truly discovered any concrete evidence of funny business surrounding the Leopard Dance operation at this tented camp, I decided, that knowledge had died with her. So if I wanted to know what she had found, I would have to retrace her steps and do a little quiet nocturnal investigating just as soon as the camp slept. It was my only chance. We were leaving in the morning. Morning would be too late.
I heard the bathroom door open, then close. Soon after, Jay’s lamp went off. His bed creaked under his weight as Jay stretched out. I thought about Mabel and what she had said to me in the afternoon before the walk that ended her life. I thought of her body, lying on the path, surrounded by the beauty of the African bush.