Poacher (22 page)

‘Can I offer you anything?

‘No, thank you. This shouldn’t take long.’
Finklestein opened the attaché case on his knees and extracted a
large manila envelope. ‘I assume you will want to read this in
privacy. Linda brought it to me for safe keeping, to be delivered
to you personally if anything should happen to her within the next
six months. I do not care to speculate on the contents, but I have
got a bad feeling about all the cloak and dagger stuff. Having
known her for the best part of twenty-three years, however, I am
sure she had a very good reason for doing this. Be that as it may,
I have also got a few documents for you to sign. It is for the
release of some money she left in our trust fund for you.
Apparently the contents of the envelope will shed more light on
this.’

‘I don’t want her money. What about her
family?’

‘She has got no family. Will you sign these
for us, please?’

Sam signed the documents without reading
them, but his eye caught a figure that stunned him. ‘Jesus! One
hundred and fifty thousand rand! What the hell am I supposed to do
with it?’

‘Her father was a very wealthy man, Mr
Jenkins. When her parents died, she inherited a fortune. It is
going to take us a very long time to finalise her will, which I am
at liberty to divulge, she has also changed.’

Sam was stunned as he handed back the signed
papers. Finklestein got up and the dog in the doorway also got up
and started growling. ‘Do you think you can sort of do something
about that dog till I’m in my car?’

‘Eh? Oh, the dog. Don’t mind him, just don’t
make any sudden moves.’

It was clear that Sam’s mind was elsewhere,
as he kept turning the large envelope over in his hands.

After seeing the lawyer off her poured
himself a large whisky and retired to his office. With a sense of
foreboding he broke the heavy seal on the envelope and extracted a
sheaf of hand-written copy:

Sam. My love: If ever there is the need for you read
this, then know that my soul is reaching out to you in pity. For to
die is easier than to be left behind, alone in your grief.

You have showed me what being alive means – thank
you, Sam, you’ve made it all worthwhile, I feel so very sorry for
the pain I have caused Estelle, but pity for someone else just
never weighed up against my love for you.

And now for the reason for all this: Duncan Courie
is in some way involved in the ivory and rhino horn trade. I have
no concrete proof as yet, but I’m working on it. This is what I’ve
got so far: One, Courie seems to be holding a very powerful
position in organised crime – I overheard him giving instructions
to have somebody in the Customs Department killed. Two, a short
while ago he had some trouble getting a consignment out of the
country. Three, he conducts his business in Swaziland and
Mozambique over weekends. Four, I went through his desk last night,
and I found a map of the Kruger Park – a pick-up point or meeting
place or something was marked a short distance up the Sweni fire
break. Five, he had two consultations with your man Joao dos Santos
while he was in the hospital. He had been questioned about this by
the police.

It is my fervent wish what I’m overreacting, but if
you ever get to read this, he has most probably had me killed, so
if my death looks like an accident, don’t take it at face
value.

Thank you again for showing me life. I will love you
always. Please forgive me for causing you all this pain.

Dying is easy – it is for you that I cry.

Love

Linda

He sat back in his chair and stared at the
wall blankly. So Courie had set Joao on her, she had really been
the target. He looked at the sheets of paper in his hands again.
Linda, he thought, I am not a killer but, as Courie signed your
death warrant, so have you just signed his. This I promise you . .
.

The next morning after radio session Sam
launched a search for the pick-up point. He had decided to cover
the whole 28 kilometres of the Sweni first. He relieved his rangers
of all other duties and spread them over a hundred yards on either
side of the fire break.

They found the place within an hour. In the
trampled undergrowth under the big tree, Aaron had come across a
piece of heavy-duty grease paper and some small pieces of
cardboard. Closer inspection revealed a considerable quantity of
cigarette ends, and an empty packet of foreign manufacture. Very
careless, Sam thought, this is going to cost you bastards. They
retreated with as little disturbance to the environment as
possible, wiping out their tracks. Sam declared the whole of the
Sweni area off limits to his rangers, till further notice.

Back at the house, he called Aaron into his
office, where they remained for the rest of the morning. When Aaron
eventually returned to the compound, he was grinning from ear to
ear, but no amount of cajoling by his friends could get a word out
of him. He just sat at the cooking fire grinning, occasionally
shaking his head from side to side.

Duncan Courie knew he was in for another
hectic day. Since Linda’s demise, he had had to handle two people’s
work and the strain was getting him down. He would have to find
another partner, the sooner the better. He was working on a
possible settlement in a divorce case, when his secretary entered
his office.

‘Yes, Ashley?’ without looking up.

‘There is a man at reception who wants to see
you immediately sir. He is very insistent. I have explained to him
that you will under no circumstances see him without an
appointment, but he is adamant.’

Courie sighed and looked at his watch. ‘Mrs.
Shear is due any minute now. Show her in the moment she arrives,
and tell the gentleman at reception to either make an appointment
or push off.’ He returned to his calculations.

A minute later there was a commotion outside
his door, and Aaron strode in without knocking, the furious
secretary trailing behind in his wake.

‘What the hell do you think you are doing?’
Courie jumped up from behind his desk.

Aaron held out both hands in a placatory
gesture and smiled. ‘Mr Courie, my apologies for barging in like
this. Please sit down. One word in total privacy and I guarantee
you will listen to me.’

Courie regarded the man in front of him.
Casually but neatly dressed, open-necked shirt with short sleeves,
new and obviously expensive shoes and slacks. He had a look of
intelligent determination in his eyes. Courie nodded at his shaking
secretary, and she closed the door as she left.

‘Can I talk?’

‘You had better. Fast.’

‘I am Terrence Radebe from Soweto. I bring an
urgent message from Joao dos Santos.’

Courie’s breath escaped in a long hiss as he
collapsed back into his chair. Joao had explicit instructions to
remain under cover in Mozambique for the last six weeks, and
maintain a low profile. And then again, this might be a police
trap. He had told the police that he was going to represent Joao in
court (until his escape, that is) and that their relationship had
been strictly on a professional basis. They couldn’t prove that he
had met Joao in Mozambique or Swaziland but they’d kept on
pestering him about that.

‘Look, I don’t know you from Adam, and Joao
is no longer a client of mine.’

‘He told me to tell you that he completed his
mission, and that a guy by the name of Jenkins is hurting, whoever
that may be. Apparently that should mean something to you.’

‘What the fuck is he doing up there, and how
did he get there?’

‘He is not up there, but now that I have your
attention . . .’

Courie held his hand up for silence and
pressed the intercom. ‘Ashley, please hold all calls, and apologise
to Mrs. Shear. We have a crisis.’ He released the button and sat
back down again. ‘Talk to me.’

‘I am on holiday with my family, and we are
spending a few nights in Satara. Last night, having put the kids to
bed, the wife and I were having a nightcap on the veranda of our
bungalow, when a man approached me. At the time I assumed he was
another tourist, taking a stroll through the camp. You know how
things are when you’re on holiday – you even talk to strangers.
Well, we struck up a conversation, he had drinks with us, and all
the time he was probing me to find out where my sympathies
lie.’

‘And just where do your sympathies lie, Mr
Radebe?’

‘Money, Mr Courie, money. He promised me five
grand to bring you this message. He gave me half up front, with the
promise that you would give me the other half. In notes, please,’
Radebe grinned.

With disgust Courie looked at the expression
of greed on the other man’s face. ‘For five grand this must be some
message.’

‘I can’t make head or tail of it, Mr Courie,
but it sure sounds as if it is something you would want to know
about.’

‘So get to the point.’

‘I think we should conclude the ah, monetary
side of our deal first, Mr Courie. If you don’t mind.’

Courie got up and left the office, returning
five minutes later with a thick envelope which he threw down in
front of Radebe. ‘Now quit stalling,’ he said, not trying to hide
his disgust.

‘One moment,’ Radebe said and started
counting the money, adding to Courie’s fury.

‘Right,’ he said after a while, distributing
the notes among the available pockets of his shirts and slacks. ‘It
seems that the word has filtered down to Joao that someone, either
your bosses or your partners, are very unhappy about the way in
which you have solved some problem or other recently. You are to be
thrown to the wolves. I don’t know what all this means, but it sure
as hell sounds as if you’re up shit creek without a paddle. Maybe
you could use some help. Joao also says that this plot to expose
you to the authorities may already be in operation, so it is quite
possible that you are already being watched, and the usual channels
of communication are also suspect. He is waiting for you right now
under some big tree in the Park that you know about. If you are
really being followed, I would suggest you leave by the back door
and let me take you to a place where you can rent a car.’

Courie had lost what little colour he had,
and sat thinking for a while. ‘No, I want nothing on record. You
take me.’

Aaron knew he had him. ‘You’ve got to be
kidding – I’m on holiday. My wife will murder me.’

‘I know this is very inconvenient for you,
but I have no other option. I want you to take me to Joao
immediately.’ He picked up the phone, and dialled. ‘Darling,
something urgent has come up. I may not make it back till
tomorrow.’ The female voice on the other side sounded agitated, and
kept going for a while. Courie listened with a pained expression on
his face, and then interrupted her. ‘No, I cannot tell you this
time either, I am sorry. I will explain when I get back. I have to
hurry now.’ He put the phone down with a bang. ‘What are you
driving?’

‘Red Toyota Hi Ace. It is in the parking
garage of this building. Ah, I have to point out to you that this
wasn’t part of the deal. As I said, I have a family that’s sitting
in Satara waiting for me. You know how it is, being on holiday and
all that . . .’

Courie sighs. ‘How much?’

‘Shall we make it another two grand? I mean,
with the authorities involved and all that, this is beginning to
sound like dicey business to me.’

‘One thousand. Which you only get once I’ve
spoken to Joao.’

Aaron looked pained, but accepted the
offer.

Courie informed his secretary that he would
be out for the rest of the day. They left the office by a side
door, and took the steps of the fire escape to the parking garage.
Courie’s own car was on a different level, so he had no fear of
being spotted by someone watching it.

During the long drive back to Nwanetzi,
Courie kept looking over his shoulder, becoming more and more
convinced that there was no one pursuing them. The drive was
uneventful, and neither felt like making small talk, each for his
own reasons. Courie grunted directions, and as they got to the
point where the Sweni fire break turned off from the tourist road,
he told Aaron to stop and switch off. Courie got out and listened
for cars. When all he could hear was the silence of the bush, he
jumped back into the vehicle, and told Aaron to turn off, and drive
fast until they were well out of sight of the tourist road.

The vehicle bumped and bounced over the
uneven surface, until Aaron was once again told to stop, this time
opposite the big fig tree a short distance away. Courie ordered
‘Terrence’ to remain in the vehicle, and approach the dense shrubs
around the base of the tree. ‘Joao? Joao!’

‘Morning, Courie.’ Sam stepped from behind
the tree, the lethal-looking LM5 loosely cradled in the crook of
him arm.

Courie’s jaw dropped and he was speechless
for a moment. ‘Well,’ he said lamely, ‘I seem to have lost my
way.’

‘I am inclined to agree with that.’

Aaron had gotten out of the vehicle, and was
approaching through the short grass gingerly with his polished
shoes and new slacks.

‘Aaron, go fetch the truck. It’s behind those
bushes over there. Then I want you to get out of those spic clothes
and return Mr Waring’s vehicle to Satara. Tell him you’ve taken my
guests to Nelspruit airport, and I will personally come and thank
him again, the moment I have sorted out a problem that has arisen
here. Then bring my car back and wait at the house.’

‘You bastard!’ Courie’s threatening move
towards ‘Terrence’ was ignored by both men, as Aaron went to fetch
the new Toyota 4x4.

‘Get on the back,’ Sam ordered, taking a pair
of handcuffs from the dash of the Toyota.

‘You’re bloody insane! You can’t handcuff me
on the back of an open truck for trespassing! I got dragged out
here by one of your men under false pretences. I will sue you blind
for this!’