The Dig (32 page)

He took the phone back from her and gave her an almost polite nod of thanks.

“Hello? Hello, yes, English. Yes,
I
am English, too. We have an emergency out here. We are scientists… yes… researchers. We are in the forest and we have an American citizen
missing
out there. Yes, American… Ah, a couple of hours ago, but he is not answering our shouts. Yes… yes… I have GPS coordinates I will give you. Okay, we’ll do that, but we need dogs out here, too, and spotlights… You have helicopters, yes?” He cupped the receiver and turned his head to Peter. “They said to turn on any lights we have so he can see us from afar. It’s a good idea—can you tell Enzi to raise the floods as high as they go?”

Peter nodded and dashed outside as Rheese stayed on the phone, describing the location and Hank’s physical description. When he was off the phone, he told Matt and Tuni, “Go outside and bang on the equipment trailer with a wrench or something else metal. People shouting gets lost quickly in the woods, but a loud clang like that resonates—he could follow it back to the site if he hears it.”

They ran out into the night and headed to the trailer to find something to bang on. Through the tree line, they could see flashlights and hear the team shouting “Hank!” from all sides. Near the trailer they found Felicia, pacing back and forth and sobbing.

“He was right behind me… ,” she wailed.

Matt found what he was looking for: a four-foot length of steel pipe and a heavy adjustable wrench. He handed the pipe to Tuni, and they began banging away on the sheet metal wall of the trailer.

Felicia turned to them. “What are you doing?” she cried, “That man is out there somewhere! He could be hurt!” She ran to Matt. He recoiled, but not fast enough, as her arms flew open and wrapped around his neck in a desperate embrace.

He collapsed and slid to the ground.

I am Felicia McWharter. I am twenty years old, from Anaheim, California. I’m anxious and spinning around. Trees surround me. My flashlight beam plays across the wall of trees.… “Omigod where’s that Hank guy?”

Matt blinked and saw the faces above him. Felicia was crying harder than ever. He sat up with Tuni’s help as Felicia cried out, “What’s
wrong
with me!”

Matt brushed the dirt from his hair and tried to tell her it was okay, that she didn’t do anything wrong. Her jacket had touched his neck, but he wasn’t about to explain what had happened. She wasn’t hearing anything, so he just found the metal pipe, stood up, and began banging on the trailer again. Felicia screamed and covered her ears.

“Felicia,” said Tuni, grabbing her arm forcefully, “why don’t you go try to calm down at the food tent?” Felicia stared at her for a second, holding her ears, pigtails bobbing as she nodded. “Go, honey, go,” nudging her in the direction of the food tent and watching her shuffle away.

Peter and Enzi were cranking away at the floodlight tower, raising it above the low canopy of trees. Tuni rushed over to them.

“Peter,” she said, “isn’t there a risk of someone else getting lost out there while they look for him? We should get everyone back and pair people up together. Perhaps have everyone search for a time, maybe ten minutes, and then come back to check in?”

He nodded, despair written on his face.

“Yeah, that’s a good idea… um…
Crap!
How do we get them all back?”

They pondered this for a moment, and then Peter shouted out to the bobbing flashlight beams nearby, “Hey! Everybody! Everyone come back to the site to meet! Pass it on!”

Ten minutes later, most of the team stood at the food tent. Rheese was inside the RV, calling more government agencies, while Enzi banged on the trailer with the pipe every twenty seconds or so. Peter took a head count—all present but Hank. Assigning the searchers to groups of three, Peter instructed them not to separate for any reason. They were to walk out from the site in as straight a line as possible for ten minutes, turn right and walk for two minutes, then walk back to the site.

Rheese stormed out of the trailer and stomped to the tent, swearing all the way. “Goddamn bureaucratic bollix!” he snarled.

“What’s the deal, Doctor?” Peter asked.

“Well, we supposedly have two helicopters on their way, but get this: only one has a searchlight. Backwater idiots. There is also a truck full of Defense Forces troops with bloodhounds on the way, but it won’t be here for four bloody hours.”

The teams had gone out and come back twice, not only calling out for Hank, but also searching the forest floor for a body.

The helicopters had arrived, and the one with the searchlight blared from a loudspeaker to get everyone back to the site while they searched. From the food tent, they all watched as the choppers flew in straight lines, back and forth, until it seemed that the whole area had been covered. In the distance, the gathered team could hear them still calling from their speaker, “Move to a clearing and wave your arms.” The choppers had flown much farther than the searchers on the ground had been able to walk, and everyone tried to keep up hopes of finding him before the dogs arrived. If it did come to that, no one wanted to think about what the dogs might find.

A little after three a.m., the police arrived in two unmarked SUVs, a crime scene van, and a small patrol Jeep, while the soldiers, who had arrived with their dogs, combed the woods. Their dogs had gone straight to the buried elephant remains and had to be taken some distance away before they began sniffing for anything else

The policemen moved recklessly over the site, tripping over gridlines, tossing gear from tents, and treating the three Kenyans—Enzi, Wekesa, and Zuberi—rudely and accusingly. By five a.m., they had spoken to most of the team. Rheese and Peter had explained several times why there was a decaying elephant in the woods, but the detectives could reach no one at the Interior Ministry to verify their statements. The stress on everyone present mounted as it became clear that Hank’s disappearance was being treated as a crime.

The policeman in charge, a Detective Chitundu, sat in the RV with Rheese, Peter, Matt, and Tuni. He rubbed at his large, round head as if it ached. He had large bags under his eyes, and when he opened them they were droopy and red-rimmed, much like those of the hounds that the soldiers had brought.

“You surprise me, all of you,” he said in a slow, deep baritone. “Your friend is missing, and you first look for him for an entire hour before calling anyone. Why would that be?”

“As we said, Detective,” Peter explained yet again, “we’re all field researchers. Most of us are used to environments like this. We didn’t get concerned until after a half hour; then we grew more concerned when everyone came back in and said they couldn’t find him anywhere.” The others nodded agreement.

“Of course,” Chitundu laughed. “You thought he had been eaten by a snake.” More laughter. Then all the merriment left his voice. “You know what concerns me?” he said, fixing each of them in turn with those droopy, doleful eyes. “It concerns me… that someone has made a mistake.” Again, he regarded each of them. “You know what that mistake was? It’s so simple, ha-ha-ha. I can see how you forget this.”

Everyone just stared at him in confusion. Matt and Tuni thought he was doing typical cop tricks from TV crime shows, watching to see who got nervous at suggestion that their plot had holes.

He slapped his hand down flat on the table. “Everyone say Mr. Felch had a flashlight!”

His weary eyes moved over their faces as if he had just found the smoking gun that each of them had fired. When they did not respond as he had expected, his eyebrows rose, creating three gleaming black cigars in his forehead.

“You know the easiest thing to find in the forest?” He began again. “A flashlight.” They nodded; it made sense. “So did the hungry snakes drag Mr. Felch to their underground lair, sure to bring the flashlight along so as not to leave evidence? Smart snake was sure to click off the power?”

Matt understood his point. It would make sense if something had attacked him, but not if he simply got lost and kept walking. He was probably still out there, walking in the wrong direction for nearly seven hours now. He wished a flashlight had turned up, for he could have learned what happened merely by touching it—but there was no trace.

“Sorry,” Matt interjected, “but do you know if the helicopters are coming back anytime soon?”

Chitundu turned to him and blinked. He glanced down at his notepad. “Matthew Turner,” he said in the same accusing tone. Tuni thought he might as well have added “
if
that is your real name!”

“Yes, that’s me.”

“You are curious about helicopters? I wonder why that is. You think there is a chance they will still find him out there? That is funny, ha-ha-ha.”

“I don’t think it’s funny at all, Detective,” Peter interrupted. “We want our friend found—safe! None of us were even out there when he disappeared.”

“Yes,
disappeared
. That is the interesting part, Mr.…” He consulted his pad. “. . . Sharma. To answer your question, Matthew Turner, the helicopters will return after sunrise. They will widen their perimeter. We
all
want to see Mister Felch okay… okay?” He smiled blandly and got up.

Another of the officers came in the door, glanced at them, and called Detective Chitundu outside. They spoke mutedly for a moment before Chitundu nodded and peered over at the food tent. The two then walked away in that direction.

“This is ridiculous,” Rheese blurted out. “They’re going to waste time playing Sherlock Holmes while one of our people is lost out there.”

“Yeah,” Peter replied, “we just have to cooperate as best we can to get this part over with. I’m sure this is standard procedure for them.”

“The dogs are coming back,” Tuni said, peering through the window behind her.

They stood up and went outside. The soldiers were appearing on all sides of the tree line, their flashlights clicking off as they reentered the well-lit site. None seemed to be giving any hint of a discovery. Over at the food tent, five policemen huddled around Enzi. Wekesa came walking toward the RV, and Tuni asked him what was going on.

“
Polisi… weka rumande Enzi,
” he replied, and continued walking.

“What!” she replied, shocked.

“What did he say?” Matt asked.

“They’re arresting Enzi!”

The four of them hurried over to ask what was going on, but the policemen kept them back while they handcuffed Enzi. Two uniformed officers walked him from the tables. As he passed by, head hanging low, he looked up at Tuni and then back down again.

“What did he do?” she called out to the remaining police. “Did he say he did something?”

Chitundu chuckled to himself, finished what he was telling the other men, and then walked to her.

“This man is your friend?” he asked.

“Yes. For the past few days only, but yes.”

“You know his name?” he said as he looked down at his notepad.

“Of course—Enzi… Enzi…”

Rheese finished for her, “Wata. It’s Wata.”

“Yes, yes, good name, Enzi Wata. Ha-ha-ha. His name is Enzi, yes. Jeremiah Enzi. This man is a criminal.” He walked leisurely toward the vehicles.

“What has he done?” Peter called to Chitundu’s back.

“He is a thief, sir. You check you bring any jewelry with you here. Let us know what is missing, yes?” He smiled and continued to the vehicles.

“What’s that have to do with Hank?” Matt called out after him, but he received only a dismissive wave from Chitundu.

“This is bullshit,” Tuni said. “Complete nonsense. Doctor, how long has Enzi worked for you?”

“More than a couple of years now, I’d say,” Rheese replied, looking up as if the information might be found in his hatband. “Must have been September… yes, over two years.
I’ve
never had anything come up missing. Had no idea about the lad—hard worker, for sure.”

Rheese sat down in his folding chair and took off his hat, shaking his head and mumbling, “Bloody shame…”

Tuni was about to follow Matt into the RV, then suddenly stopped and blurted out, “Bollix!” and stormed toward the police and military vehicles crowding the entrance. She found Enzi in the backseat of the small patrol Jeep. The front passenger door was open. Brushing past the crowd of police and soldiers in camouflage, she plopped down onto the seat in front of him.

“Did you have anything to do with this, Enzi?” she asked. “Tell me now.”

Enzi looked up at her, expressionless.

“You
did
? Did you do something to Hank?”

He frowned and shook his head.

“What
did
you do?”

He sighed and looked away.

“Step out, miss,” a uniformed officer said, and held his hand out to her.

“Unbelievable, Enzi. I thought… I thought you were good man.” She stood up, ignoring the officer’s hand, and walked back through the group.

Matt stood just beyond them, waiting for her. “Did he say anything?” he asked, falling in step with her.

“No, but he’s obviously guilty of something. I don’t think he did anything to Hank, but he knows something.”