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Authors: Michael Stanley

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The area chief of police knew very well who Haake was. Without
further ado, he steered Willie into the adjoining Tshane police
station.


The Death of the Mantis

Forty-Two

O
n Monday, Kubu was
happy to get back to his office. The hospital had been a trial, and
in desperation the doctor had discharged him in order to still his
stream of complaints. Then he’d been stuck at home, bored and alone
during the day except for the police constable outside, and
sidelined in the evening while Pleasant and Joy focused on
organising the engagement party. He tried to keep out of their way,
playing with Tumi and Ilia, who both appreciated his attention. The
weekend had been better; they had taken a trip to Mochudi to visit
his parents.

His colleagues greeted him like a hero, which he found
embarrassing. Edison was particularly effusive.

“All right, Edison, I’m fine now. What’s happening with the
case? Any sign of Khumanego?”

Edison shook his head. “But we searched his apartment a week
ago, and I’ve got the reports back. How did he pull it off, Kubu?
How did he get to all those places in the middle of nowhere? How
did he know where the victims were?”

They were good questions, and Kubu had spent lots of time
thinking about them. “Let’s get some tea and go to my office and
bring each other up to date. Also please find some muffins. I lost
a lot of weight in the desert. I need to build up my strength.” He
was going to have a proper lunch, too. There had been no more
nagging at home about dieting.

Kubu settled himself at his desk. His in-tray was full, and his
computer had a demanding air about it. He ignored them both and
waited for Edison, who arrived a few minutes later with six
muffins. They both set to work on them.

“So what’s in the forensics reports?” Kubu asked through a
mouthful.

Edison searched through his file. “The arrowheads were clean,
but one of the containers held something possibly very toxic,
perhaps even what was used on Haake. And the plants that Director
Mabaku found were indeed the source of poisons and hallucinogens,
including the one that killed the two students. The boots we found
in Khumanego’s cupboard match the prints found at each of the three
murder scenes pretty well, and the size is right.”

“Anything on the fingerprints on Haake’s vehicle?”

Edison nodded enthusiastically. “Khumanego’s prints were on the
gun and on the back of Haake’s vehicle.”

Kubu was about to ask about the GPS when Mabaku came in and
muttered something about everyone having a party. However, after
enquiring about Kubu’s health, he helped himself to a muffin.

“I’m feeling fine, Director,” said Kubu, after swallowing the
rest of his muffin. “We were discussing how Khumanego pulled this
off under our noses. Under my nose, I suppose I should say.”

Mabaku grunted. “I got an urgent message this morning to phone
Lerako about the case. I thought we could do it together.” He
tossed Kubu a slip of paper with the message in Miriam’s
handwriting.

Kubu dialled the number, reached. Lerako and put him on the
speaker.

“Kubu! Are you recovered? You’re lucky to be alive. The Kalahari
is a dangerous place.”

“I’m fine, Lerako. Glad to be alive.”

“Detective Tau’s body has been returned to his family now. Will
you be coming to the funeral this weekend?”

“Yes, I need to be there. I want to tell the family what
happened in person.” He owed the man at least that much. “I’ve got
Director Mabaku and Detective Banda here with me,” he continued.
“Do you have some news for us?”

“I do! I was right about the Bushmen. Perhaps I had the wrong
ones originally, but yesterday I arrested one of the right
ones.”

Kubu’s heart jumped. “You’ve got Khumanego?”

“No, but an accomplice. A chap called Willie Taro who works at
the petrol station in Hukuntsi. He’s admitted everything.”

Kubu felt some doubt mix with the elation. Lerako didn’t have a
good record with Bushman arrests.

Mabaku chipped in. “You’d better tell us the whole story from
the beginning.”

“Willie’s been spying on people for another Bushman who called
himself Piscoaghu and who paid him for the information. All
tourists and visitors coming through Hukuntsi pass through the
petrol station where he works. It’s the only place to get fuel in
that whole area. He reported everything he could find out, but this
Piscoaghu was particularly interested in people heading south,
especially if they came more than once.”

“What did this other man do with the information?” Kubu asked.
“Why did he want it?”

“Willie doesn’t know. I think he’s telling the truth about that.
He’s been very co-operative.” From the way Lerako said it, Kubu had
no doubt co-operation was in Willie’s interest.

“And this other Bushman, this Piscoaghu, was Khumanego?”

“No doubt about it. Willie recognised the picture of him on the
Wanted poster right away.”

“Who did he give information about?”

“Well, he doesn’t know most of their names. But he knew Haake
all right. And here’s the punchline. Khumanego was in Hukuntsi the
evening Haake was killed. And Willie told him where Haake was.”

Mabaku gave a low whistle. “Good work, Lerako! How did you get
on to this Willie character?”

There was a moment’s hesitation. “Well, he turned himself in,
actually. He approached the Tshane station commander at a prayer
meeting for Detective Tau. Took his time, though. If he’d come
forward earlier, Tau might still be with us.”

“So what charge are you holding him on?” Kubu asked.

“Accessory to murder! He’s an accomplice before and after the
fact.”

It seemed to Kubu that Willie had been used and might have had
no idea what was going on. But he didn’t feel like arguing. Willie
might be safer in police custody than free, where Khumanego could
get at him.

“Did he know where Khumanego stayed when he was in
Hukuntsi?”

“He said he only visited from time to time. But here’s something
really important. He says that Khumanego occasionally arrived at
the filling station on an off-road motorbike.”

Mabaku whistled again, and Kubu’s brain shifted into high
gear.

Lerako covered a few other points, promised to send them a copy
of Willie’s statement and said he’d see Kubu and Mabaku at the
funeral. Then he rang off.

Kubu turned to the other two. “Now the puzzle pieces are fitting
into place. Khumanego was behind all the murders. Let’s see if I
can tie things together.

“First of all, Monzo took the two students into the desert to
collect plants. It seems they must have gone close to the
koppies
– maybe actually visited them – and after that
Khumanego set out to kill them. He traced the students to Sekoma
and poisoned them. We’ll need to check Khumanego’s movements at
that time if we can. He made it look like an accident, and we fell
for it.

“As for Monzo’s death, at our first meeting Khumanego told me he
was in the Mabuasehube area around that time. And the phone call
that led Monzo to his death came from a public telephone near the
Hukuntsi petrol station. Either Khumanego phoned himself with the
story about the Bushmen poaching, or he set this Willie guy up to
do it. Either way, he headed out the next morning on his motorbike,
waited till Monzo reached the place where he said the Bushmen would
be and then killed him. After that he wiped out Monzo’s tracks and
went back on his motorbike, keeping the bike’s wheels in one of the
tyre ruts in the sand, confident that the next car would blot out
his tread marks. But he made two mistakes. One was bad luck – that
a Bushman group actually
was
in the area and discovered
Monzo. The other was throwing away the rock he used to disguise the
knobkierie
blow. He wanted the death to look like an
accident, but when Lerako found that rock, we knew it was murder.
That’s when Khumanego came to me to help free the Bushmen – after
making the fake boot prints for me to find.” Kubu paused.

“We know Haake was looking for the
koppies
, and now we
know Willie was keeping tabs on him. Just before Krige was
murdered, Khumanego left me in Tsabong with an excuse about
visiting some other Bushmen. Willie probably told Khumanego about
Haake’s trip south, and Khumanego followed him, planning to murder
him, but came across Krige unexpectedly and killed him instead.
Haake must’ve surprised him, and Khumanego – who had found Krige’s
gun – tried to shoot him but missed. After that he escaped on his
motorbike, the same way as he did with Monzo. By then he knew we
were looking for a murderer, so he tried to make Krige’s death look
like Monzo’s, even to the extent that he had the same fake boot
prints. This time, though, he didn’t do it well enough, and Ian
MacGregor could see the
knobkierie
crater under the blow
from the calcrete rock.”

Kubu took a deep breath. “As for Haake, I was the one who told
Khumanego we thought he might be in the Hukuntsi area.” Mabaku’s
eyebrows rose. This was news to him. “So he headed down there and
waited for Willie to tip him off. Then he planted Krige’s gun in
Haake’s vehicle – perhaps hoping we’d still believe Haake was
responsible for the other murders. Then he killed Haake with a
poisoned arrow he knew I’d guess was not a real Bushman arrow. No
doubt to deflect suspicion away from the Bushmen, but also to make
us keep looking for the man with the size ten shoes.”

Kubu shook his head. “And I fell for all of it.”

There was silence as Mabaku turned everything over in his head.
Eventually he nodded. “Yes, it all hangs together. It must’ve been
something like that.”

Suddenly Edison came to life. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you
some other good news. We know the GPS we found in the apartment was
the one stolen from Haake. It’s got his prints on it. And we’ve got
the route for his last trip.” He handed Kubu a printout of GPS
waypoints.

Mabaku glared at Edison. “What’s the use of that? Get the
computer guy to print it out on the same sheet as the tracks we got
from the students and the one from Krige.” Edison hurried off to do
that.

“What do you make of this?” Mabaku passed Kubu a photograph of
the six calcrete stones from Khumanego’s bookshelf.

“He had these in his apartment?”

Mabaku nodded.

Kubu counted the deaths he knew about. The two students, Monzo,
Krige, Haake. That was five. Then there was Tau; but Khumanego
hadn’t been back since the desert trip, and he couldn’t have known
in advance that Tau would be with them. Kubu had a sinking feeling.
Was the sixth stone for him?

“Six stones, six deaths.”

Mabaku nodded. He had made that connection too. After a few
moments he said, “We counted five murders. Who was the sixth pebble
for? You?”

Kubu shook his head. “I don’t think he really wanted to kill me.
He kept trying to warn me off. I think it was for the other
Bushman, the one who was stabbed to death and left in the desert.
I’ve no idea why.” He paused. “Actually, we still don’t know what
the motive was for
any
of the killings. Just that it has
something to do with the
koppies
.”

Kubu sighed, and continued, “And Khumanego? Any trace of him?
What are we doing about it?”

“The usual. Border checks, posters, alerts to all police here
and in the surrounding countries. But I’m sure he’s still somewhere
in the Kalahari. It’s a big place. We tried to follow his
footprints from the abandoned Land Rover, but we lost them after a
few kilometres.”

Kubu sighed. Khumanego had vanished into the desert. Perhaps he
had joined a nomadic Bushman band. Who would recognise him? Who
took note of one extra Bushman in any case?

They continued discussing ways to track down Khumanego until
Edison returned with the GPS plots. Haake had stopped at a number
of places, but comparing the route with the ones of Krige and the
students, Kubu was pretty sure he could guess the location of the
koppies
. Once he had the co-ordinates, he could check Google
Earth pictures to see if he was right.

Mabaku agreed, but the big question remained.

“Why?” he asked.

Kubu shrugged. “I really don’t know, Director. I can only think
there is something very precious at the
koppies
. Maybe it’s
the diamond treasure trove Haake sought. Maybe something else. But
it seems that Khumanego desperately wants it for himself.
Desperately enough to kill six people for it. – ” He paused,
and sighed. “But perhaps that’s not it. Perhaps it’s the killing he
wants, and the
koppies
are just an excuse.” How had this
darkness overwhelmed the enthusiastic boy he had once loved?

“We’ll have to go back,” Mabaku said with regret. “We have to
find out what’s there. It’s got to be the key. And we have to find
this man quickly. I think you may be right; he’s a psychopath.
He’ll kill again.”

“I could – ” Kubu began, but Mabaku held up his hand.


You
are going to stay right here with Joy. You are not
going back there again. That’s final.”


The Death of the Mantis

Forty-Three

I
t took three days
for Mabaku to co-ordinate the personnel who would go to the
koppies
that seemed central to Khumanego’s killing spree. To
his huge frustration, Kubu had not found a way to accompany them.
Mabaku would lead the force himself, leaving Kubu in charge of
communications in Gaborone.

So on Friday morning, two police helicopters and one from the
BDF took off from the small airstrip in Tsabong.

“We’re in the air, Kubu.” The patchwork of police and
air-traffic control communications made Mabaku’s voice sound tinny.
“We’ll call you in about forty-five minutes.”

BOOK: The Death of the Mantis
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