The Death of the Mantis (15 page)

They were interrupted by the telephone. It was the director’s
assistant, Miriam.

“Kubu, the director wants to see you at once. You better come
right away.” She sounded nervous. That was not good. She normally
negotiated the choppy waters of the director’s office as if they
were pond-calm.

“Thanks, Ian. I’ve got to see the boss. But this has been
helpful.”

Ian nodded, returned his pipe to his pocket, shook Kubu’s hand
and left for home. Kubu headed to Mabaku’s office.

The director was standing at the window, watching the shadows
lengthen on Kgale Hill. He returned to his desk and waved Kubu to a
chair. Not a good sign either, Kubu thought.

When Mabaku spoke, his voice was taut, and there was no hint of
the usual sarcasm.

“Kubu, you and I have a serious problem. There’s been another
murder out near Tshane. Seems like the same MO. But this time it’s
a foreign tourist, a white man from Namibia, they think. Another
tourist spotted the body and was shot at.”

“What happened?” Kubu was shocked. At least Mabaku had lumped
the two of them together as the owners of the problem.

“That’s all Lerako told me. He had a call from the police in
Tshane – Detective Tau. He’s going up to the scene tomorrow. I told
him to wait in Tshane until you joined him at noon. I can’t say he
was delighted.”

“You’re sending me to Tshane?”

“Kubu, you’re not thinking!” The temper Mabaku had been fighting
to keep under control erupted. “You and that damned reporter talked
me into letting you mess around with Lerako’s case – mess
up
Lerako’s case, as it turned out. To make sure the Bushman suspects
were fairly dealt with, you said. But you fell for the fake
footprints that appeared so conveniently, and we released the men
Lerako wanted to hold.” Mabaku took a deep breath. “Then they
disappear, and now two weeks later someone else is killed nearby in
a similar way. What’s the implication of that for you and me?”

Mabaku was right. Kubu hadn’t thought it through. “But the cases
may not be connected…” Kubu petered out. Of course they were
connected. Neither of them believed in coincidences. He pulled
himself together. “If I’m right, and Monzo was involved in some
shady dealings out in the Kalahari, then the crimes could be
related but have nothing to do with the Bushmen.”

“You better hope that’s true! And more than that, you’d better
be able to prove it. Because if this turns into a tourism disaster,
and the Bushmen turn out to be the murderers, I’ll be running a
private security company and you’ll be demoted to constable –
whatever your contacts in the media!”

Kubu tried to think of something reassuring to tell his boss,
but Mabaku wasn’t waiting.

“Be at Tshane police station at noon tomorrow. Lerako will take
you to the murder scene. Work with him this time. And keep me
informed of every development. Is that clear?”

♦

Kubu went back to his office, the sun gone from his day. He
should never have let Khumanego drag him into a political matter.
But it was too late now. The Bushmen
had
to be innocent. He
had
to be right about that.

And the evening still lay ahead. He wasn’t looking forward to
telling Joy he was going away again. But I’ll tell her it’s just
till the weekend, he decided.

He hoped that would be true. The case needed to be solved
quickly. There was a murderer in the Kalahari, and now they’d
struck again.

∨
The Death of the Mantis
∧

W
hen Kubu left at six
the next morning, Joy and Tumi were fast asleep together. Joy must
have got up during the night to feed the baby and brought her back
to bed, but Kubu had no recollection of that. He wanted to say
goodbye but didn’t want to wake them, so he brushed Joy’s cheek
with his lips. She didn’t stir, but he thought she smiled
slightly.

It was already broad daylight, and the city was beginning to go
about its business, but the traffic was light and he was soon out
on the main road to Jwaneng. There he filled up the car and topped
up on the breakfast of toast and jam that he’d had before he left
home. Surprisingly, the fast-food place attached to the petrol
station actually served decent coffee, and he swallowed two cups
before getting back on the road.

Kubu enjoyed long trips because it gave him a chance to play CDs
of his favourite operas and take the baritone parts. The kilometres
flew past as he sang lustily. Strange, he thought, I’m off to
investigate what seems to be another brutal murder in the middle of
nowhere, but I’m happy. Well, it
is
my job. Still, he felt a
twinge of guilt.

Four and a half hours later he reached Kang and filled up again.
After his experience in Tsabong, he wasn’t going to rely on the
fuel supply in small towns in the Kalahari. Then he headed
south-west towards the three towns of Tshane, Hukuntsi and
Lehututu, which formed a triangle around the pans of the Kgalagadi.
Although it was a good road, he was struck by how few vehicles he
encountered. It was exactly noon when he arrived at the small
police station in Tshane. He recognised Lerako’s Land Rover parked
outside in the sun, and sighed.

♦

It was a hot, dusty drive, but Lerako was cheerful. “No doubt
about this one, Kubu. Tau says the victim was hit from behind, hard
enough to smash the skull. He’s found the murder weapon, too. Good
man, Tau. Another chunk of calcrete. What do you make of that?” His
good humour faded. “Still no sign of the Bushman suspects, however.
They’re lying low – once you gave them the chance to get away.”

Kubu ignored the bait and just grunted. He’d hoped for lunch
before they left, but Lerako had said they must go at once to have
enough time at the murder scene before nightfall.

“Who is the victim?”

“We don’t know yet. I told Tau not to disturb anything until
forensics got there.”

Kubu nodded. He would’ve preferred a bit of a head start with
that information, but couldn’t really fault Lerako for wanting to
prevent contamination of the scene.

When they arrived, it was well into the afternoon. Even so, when
they opened the car doors, heat engulfed them. Kubu took a few
moments to drag himself from the vehicle and introduced himself to
Tau. Then he stood bending his back for a few minutes to remove the
cricks. Only then did he move towards the body, keeping his
distance. Dead human bodies repelled him, especially ones that had
been in the blazing sun for two days, even if covered by a
tarpaulin.

With a grimace he asked Tau to expose the remains. He slipped a
mask over his face and, breathing only through his mouth, went in
for a closer look. He nearly gagged as the stench reached him.

There was a severe dent in the skull, the result of a very heavy
blow, and that was almost certainly the cause of death. Once he and
Lerako had viewed the corpse, they gave the forensics team the
go-ahead to search the body.

Tau had found the calcrete lump some distance from the body.
He’d left it in place, carefully protected. Kubu took a good look.
It was a large rock, hard to wield with the sort of force required
to smash-in someone’s head. It would take a big hand to hold it,
certainly not a Bushman’s. It had a brown-red stain, very probably
the dead man’s blood, but Kubu was suspicious. He wouldn’t use such
an object to attack someone. He said nothing to Lerako and Tau,
however. Let Ian and the forensics people come to their own
conclusions. He merely agreed that the rock could be collected and
sealed in an evidence bag. Then they completed a careful tour of
the area while the forensics people hunted for footprints and
cartridge cases.

“We set up the tents over there,” said Tau, pointing a
considerable distance away from the murder scene. Kubu noted with
approval that one of Lerako’s men had started a fire, and was
preparing a three-legged pot of
pap
to go with meat.
Hopefully there were also drinks that were merely warm rather than
disgustingly hot.

“Have you found out who the victim is?” Kubu asked Tau.

“No. But he probably has identification on him.”

“Tell us about the man who discovered the body.”

Tau fidgeted, realising that this was a crucial point in the
interview with the senior officers. He filled them in on what he’d
learnt from Haake.

“Why didn’t you keep him here?” Lerako interjected.

“Did he say why he came to exactly this spot?” Kubu wanted to
know.

Tau looked from one to the other. At last he answered Lerako
first. “He volunteered all the information, but wanted to get on
home. And I didn’t think we should hold him here at the scene where
he’d been attacked. He made a full statement at the police station
in Tshane.”

“And why was he here?” Kubu repeated before Lerako could
respond.

“He said he wasn’t looking for anything in particular. I asked
him about that very carefully, but he said he was just following an
old map.”

“Did you see the map?” Lerako again.

“No, I… I didn’t ask to see it.”

“Where did he get the map?” Kubu asked. Tau shook his head
vaguely, but Kubu’s thoughts had already moved on. “What exactly
did he say about being shot at?”

Tau consulted his notes. “He went back to his vehicle to call
for help – he has a satellite phone. Then he heard a shot, and it
hit his vehicle. He took off as fast as he could, following his own
tracks back through the bush. He phoned from the main road. I told
him to wait, but he insisted on coming in to Tshane. He said he
wasn’t waiting out here alone with a murderer.”

“Did he have any idea where the shots came from?”

“It was from behind the vehicle.”

“How many shots did he hear?”

“He thinks he heard three, but he was concentrating on driving,
and there was a lot of noise. Two hit the vehicle. One went through
the body over the rear wheel, and the other smashed the back
window.”

“Did you find the bullets?”

“Just the one inside. I gave it to the forensics guys. The other
one must’ve bounced off the chassis. It’ll be in the sand
somewhere.” He hesitated. “One of our men looked through Haake’s
vehicle while he was taking us to the body, but found nothing else.
So after Lato got Haake back to Tshane, we let him leave. He was in
a hurry to get home to Windhoek, and it’s a long way.”

By this time the sun was setting, producing bands of golds and
reds in the wispy, sterile clouds. The leader of the forensics
group walked over and handed Kubu a travel wallet.

“From the dead man. His name is Joseph Krige. There’s a passport
and a Namibian driving licence in it. We’ve taken prints off all
three. We also found a portable Garmin GPS in one of his
pockets.”

Kubu looked through the wallet. Driving licence, passport, some
Namibian dollars and Botswana pula – several hundred of each – and
a page of notes giving what looked like GPS co-ordinates, against
each of which was a short description of terrain, presumably at
that location. What made them special? Why had Krige stopped at
each and described it? Presumably the last one referred to where
they were now.

“We should check the GPS,” Kubu said to the forensics man. “With
luck it will tell us exactly where he’s been on this trip. Better
search the
bakkie
again in the morning; it’s getting too
dark now.” He flipped through the passport. Krige had crossed the
border at Mamuno three days before.

“When did Haake cross from Namibia?” he asked Tau.

“Four days ago.”

Kubu passed the wallet to Lerako, who made a show of going
through it much more thoroughly, studying every page of the
passport.

“Anything else?” Kubu asked the forensics people.

“We’ve identified the tracks from Krige’s vehicle, and where
Haake drove out and came back. And the police vehicles, of course.
But no other set of tracks. Of course they could be anywhere out
there if the murderer stopped some distance away.”

“What about footprints?”

“Well, there are some from the shoes that Krige was wearing –
quite distinctive. There are also some others that must be from
this Haake person. There are plenty around where he parked his
vehicle, but there are a few behind the tent that look similar.
Smooth sole, about size ten. Most have been smudged over.
Deliberately, I’d say.”

Immediately, Kubu was excited. “Let’s take a look.”

The man from forensics led them carefully to the scene and
pointed out several boot prints. As he had said, most were scuffed,
but one or two were quite clear. Kubu whistled.

“What do you think, Lerako?”

Lerako looked down without expression. “They’re similar to the
ones we think are Haake’s. They’re also similar to the ones near
where Monzo was killed. More misdirection, I’m sure. It’s those
Bushmen all right!”

Kubu sighed. Turning back to the forensics man, he said, “Can
you see where these prints go?”

The man shook his head. “These are the only ones we found away
from the vehicle. The rest must’ve been smudged out.”

Kubu nodded and stood staring down at the prints.

At last the forensics man interrupted his thoughts. “What do we
do with the body?”

Kubu turned to Lerako. “We can’t leave it in the sun for another
day, and it won’t be much fun guarding it from predators all night.
I think they should bag it, and get it down to Gaborone tomorrow.
Then we can see what our pathologist can discover in his
laboratory.” Lerako nodded, and the forensics team headed off to
take care of that unpleasant business.

Kubu turned back to Tau, trying to integrate the clues. “There’s
no direct evidence of a third person here. Tau, what did your
people make of the bullet and the bullet holes?”

Tau shrugged. They didn’t have anyone at Tshane trained in
forensics. He thought about the size of the hole in the vehicle,
and held his thumb and forefinger close together to indicate the
size. “Maybe a .38 or a 9
^mm
.”