Death in Kenya (15 page)

Victoria started as though she had been sleep-walking, and was suddenly angry with an unreasoning and defensive anger born of the sharp unease that had momentarily possessed her.

‘Must you mention graves after what has happened here? I should have thought we could at least have kept off——' She stopped and bit her lip.

Drew's eyebrows lifted and his blue eyes were unpleasantly satirical, but his voice remained unruffled. ‘I stand corrected. Very tactless of me. My apologies, Eden.'

‘What's that?' said Eden, jerked out of abstraction as Victoria had been. ‘I'm sorry. I didn't hear what you said.'

‘Nothing of any importance. It doesn't look as though your grandmother is in, does it? Or else she's locked the dogs up.'

‘More likely that the police have locked up all our labour!' said Eden bitterly. ‘There don't seem to be any cars about, so at least Bill and his boys have pushed off – which is some comfort!'

At the top of the verandah steps he paused to listen, his head lifted and his face strained and intent. But no one moved in the silent house, and the normal cheerful noises from the kitchen and the back premises were conspicuous by their absence.

Something of his disquiet communicated itself to Drew Stratton, who said with unwonted sharpness: ‘There's nothing wrong, is there?'

Eden's strained rigidity relaxed and he gave a short and rather uncertain laugh. ‘No. No, of course not. I was only wondering where everyone had got to. Place seems a bit deserted this evening. I'll go and rout out Zacharia and some drinks.' But he made no move to go, and the hand that he had laid on the verandah rail tightened until the knuckles showed white through the tanned skin.

Somewhere in the house a door slammed and Victoria jumped at the suddenness of the sound.

‘Somebody appears to be at home,' observed Mr Stratton dryly. ‘Unless that was your poltergeist.'

Eden's hand dropped from the rail and he turned an appalled face. ‘But it couldn't be! – not now. I mean——'

He whirled round and had started for the nearest door at a run when Em appeared at the far end of the verandah:

‘Eden! Thank goodness you're back! I've been worried to death.' Her voice sharpened as she took in his expression. ‘What's the matter? You haven't – heard anything have you?'

‘No,' said Eden with a crack of laughter that held more than a trace of hysteria. ‘Not a sound. That's what was worrying me. The whole place was as quiet as a tomb and I suddenly got the horrors, wondering if anything had happened to you. Where is everyone? Don't tell me that young Bill Hennessy has arrested the whole boiling – live stock included? What have you done with the dogs?'

‘Locked them up,' said Em and sat down abruptly and heavily in one of the verandah chairs. ‘They didn't take to the askaris.'

She appeared to notice Drew and Victoria for the first time and nodded absently at them. ‘Good evening, Drew. Didn't see you. Eden brought you, I suppose? Well, I can't talk cattle with you today. It'll have to wait. I'm too upset. Did you have a nice trip on the lake, Victoria? Eden, go and tell Zacharia to bring the drinks. I need something. Brandy, for choice!'

‘Bill been giving you a bad time, Gran?' enquired Eden. ‘You should have let me stay and deal with him. Come on, tell me the worst. Are half our staff behind bars? Is that why the place is so quiet this evening?'

‘No. Nothing like that. He only wanted to ask a lot of silly questions, and I let him get on with it. It isn't the police. It's Kamau.'

‘Why? What about him? Don't tell me he really
does
know something after all?'

‘I don't know,' said Em tiredly. ‘Eden,
do
go and call Zach! I'm sure we could all do with a drink.'

Eden departed, and Drew said: ‘Kamau? Isn't he the one who scuppered that Mau Mau “Brigadier” and scooped in a fat reward? Do the police think that he knows something about the murder?'

‘No. I mean, yes, he's the one who killed Gitahi. Lisa thought he might know something…' Em recounted the tale, adding that Kamau had failed to meet her on the previous night. ‘And when I sent for him this morning – Oh,
mzuri,
Zacharia. Put it down there. No, no, the Bwanas can help themselves.' She waved the old man away, and Eden dispensed drinks.

‘Go on,' said Drew. ‘You sent for him this morning?'

Em accepted an exceedingly stiff brandy and soda from her grandson and gulped down half of it before replying. ‘They said they thought he'd gone off to cut lucerne, and now it doesn't look as if he did.'

‘Bolted, I suppose,' said Eden succinctly.

Em lowered her glass and looked at him sharply. ‘Why do you say that?'

‘Well, it's the obvious conclusion, isn't it?'

‘That's what the Police say. In fact they said just what you said yesterday: that he might have done the murder himself, and now that this girl, Wambui, has told on him, he's lost his nerve and run for it.'

‘But you don't believe that,' said Drew slowly.

‘No.'

Eden banged his glass down on the tray with such violence that the bottles jumped and rattled. ‘Why not? The same old reason I suppose. “My Kukes are loyal!” My God, they ought to have that written up in letters of gold right across the Rift – and headed “Famous Last Words”! Why shouldn't it be the answer?
Someone
did it, and it all ties up with the other things that happened in the house – the poltergeist and the poisoning of Simba. Whoever was responsible for that must have been employed here, or working with an accomplice who was, and if Kamau had no hand in it why has he run away? Tell me that!'

‘Because he may think he knows who did it, and is afraid.'

‘Afraid of what?'

‘Of his own life, of course! Really, Eden, you're being very stupid today. Suppose he
was
watching from the bushes and saw everything? Suppose he even recognized the murderer?'

‘In the dusk? At that range?' said Eden scornfully. ‘Don't you believe it, Gran! The distance between where he was standing and the spot where Alice was killed is well over fifty yards. And it was getting dark. For all we know, the marks he left may have been made hours earlier – or else they were made by an accomplice keeping
cave.
If Kamau really knows anything about this business it's either because he himself did the murder or connived at it!'

‘I don't believe it,' said Em obstinately. ‘That's just the sort of conclusion the police jump at – and Gilly and Hector and Mabel. Because it's the easiest one that offers. It's my opinion that Kamau
did
know something, and was sufficiently frightened by what he saw to keep his mouth shut, but couldn't resist throwing out hints to his girl. But I didn't think he'd run away, or that the police would immediately leap to the same silly conclusion that you appear to have leapt to!'

She sipped her drink and glared indignantly at her grandson over the rim of her glass.
‘Men!'
said Em scornfully, and directed a speaking glance at her niece. But Victoria's attention had been momentarily distracted by the behaviour of Mr Stratton.

Drew had been sitting on the verandah rail within a foot of her, leaning back lazily against one of the pillars. He looked relaxed and at peace with the world, and appeared to be taking no more than a polite interest in the discussion, until something in Em's last sentence had jerked him to attention. Victoria did not know why she was so sure of this, for he had made no noticeable movement. Nevertheless she was aware that he was no longer relaxed but had abruptly stiffened into alertness, and that he was sitting very still.

She glanced sideways at him and saw that his eyes were wide and very bright and that they held a curious look of astonishment, as though some new and startling thought had suddenly presented itself to him. It was a look that for some reason disturbed Victoria, and she turned quickly to stare at her aunt as though she might find there some clue as to what had caused it. But Em's face was as aloof and sulky as an elderly bloodhound's, and there was nothing to be read there but her scornful impatience with the limited intelligence of all people who did not think as she did.

Eden said: ‘Oh, all right, Gran. Don't let's argue about it. We shall always be on opposite sides of the fence over this. You are quite prepared to believe that everyone else's Kikuyu servants are untrustworthy, but never your own. Hector and Mabel are just as bad. Look at the way Hector behaved in '54 over that knife.'

Em said sharply: ‘I will not have you talking scandal, Eden! It was an accident, and you know it. Hector and Mabel are old friends of mine, and——'

‘And like Kamau can do no wrong,' finished Eden. ‘I know, darling. Sorry I spoke. Have another drink. You've finished that one. What about you, Drew? Have the other half.'

‘I've still got it, thanks,' said Drew. ‘Have Hector and Mabel been over here this afternoon, Em?'

‘Yes,' said Em, handing over her glass to be refilled. ‘Mabel brought me a bottle of her chutney. A peace-offering, I think. Dear Mabel. She's such a kind-hearted, sensible person except when she gets on to the subject of Ken. Which reminds me, Eden; Ken was here just after you left. He wanted to know if that Luger of yours was still for sale.'

Eden looked slightly surprised. ‘He must be mad. He knows quite well that I flogged it in Mays only about ten days ago. He was there! Besides, he wouldn't have been able to get any ammunition for it.'

‘Oh well, perhaps I got it wrong. He may have wanted to know if Mays still had it. I'm afraid I was a bit sharp with him. I found him riding right across the lucerne patch behind the labour lines. He didn't expect to see me down there – let alone Hennessy! – and he stammered and stuttered like a schoolboy caught with his fist in the cake tin. Mabel ought to send him to the coast for a spell. Or better still, take him there herself. The boy is a bundle of nerves.'

Eden said shortly: ‘The further away she takes him, and them, the better. I hope you were sufficiently sharp with him to discourage any more visits for the time being.'

‘Ken is unsnubbable. You ought to know that by now. Lisa took him off my hands. She came over to borrow some sugar, and took him back with her. It's odd that two people like Hector and Mabel should have produced a child like Ken. He's not really the right type for Kenya.'

‘Judging from his capacity for falling in love with other men's wives,' said Eden acidly, ‘I should have thought he had at least one of the necessary qualifications.'

‘Don't be cheap, dear,' said his grandmother severely. She selected a cigarette from a box on the table beside her, and Drew slid off the verandah rail and went over to light it for her.

‘Gilly been around today?' he enquired idly, snapping on the lighter.

‘I expect so. He's around so often that I don't notice any more. Thank you, Drew.'

Drew returned the lighter to his pocket and observed that he had not realized that Gilly was so hard-working.

‘It's not always work,' said Em with a short laugh. ‘My Bechstein is a good deal better than his own piano. He comes over to play.'

Eden muttered something under his breath that was uncomplimentary to Mr Gilbraith Markham, and a frown passed over Em's face. She said: ‘I know you think I'm an old fool to keep him on, but God knows what would become of him if I didn't. He's very little use as a manager, and not really a good enough musician to keep himself in any sort of comfort – let alone Lisa!'

Eden said coldly: ‘That's nonsense. He was offered a perfectly good job with a dance band. A more than adequate salary, with accommodation thrown in. What is more, Lisa was all for his taking it: Nairobi is far more her cup of tea than the Rift.'

Em looked at him with mingled affection and regret. ‘You haven't inherited a particle of feeling for music, dear, have you? It's odd, when your father and all my mother's side of the family had such a love for it. All the Beaumartins have been musical, but it's missed you. If it hadn't, you couldn't talk like that. Gilly is enough of a musician to consider that playing in a dance band would rank with prostitution. He'd prefer to starve.'

‘Don't you believe it! Gilly is far too fond of himself. He'd have taken it all right, if you hadn't fallen for all that high falutin' stuff and offered him Gus Abbott's job in order to save him from “Prostituting his Art”. And if he'd put in as little work with the dance band as he has here, he'd have got the sack inside a week. Probably less! Yet he has the nerve to suggest that you put him in to manage the Rumuruti estates now that Jerry Coles wants to retire.'

Em said softly: ‘Perhaps his reasons for wishing to remove to Rumuruti are domestic rather than financial.'

‘
Domestic?
Why Lisa simply loathes the idea of going there.'

‘Quite,' said Em dryly.

Eden stared at her for a moment, obviously puzzled by her tone, and then flushed hotly in sudden comprehension, and turning his back on her busied himself once more with the tray of drinks.

Em said placidly, but with a wicked twinkle in her eye: ‘But I am unlikely to give it to him. You see, I should miss hearing him play.'

‘Was he playing here today?' asked Drew.

‘I don't think so. I didn't hear him. But then I went down to the labour lines with Bill Hennessy and his askaris, and I wouldn't have heard him from there. I'm getting too deaf.'

Em sighed and shook her head impatiently, as though the infirmities of old age were tormenting flies; and then all at once she stiffened in her chair, listening.

A car was coming up the long, rutted drive between the acacias and the spiky clusters of sisal, and Em rose hurriedly. ‘If it's anyone else offering condolences, tell them I'm out. Or ill!'