The Fallen (7 page)

But when she heard his startled cry and saw him frozen in the doorway of the room he had just opened, Jade came running.

Jade hurried up the shallow wooden steps and along the corridor that led to the open door where Craig was standing, stock-still, staring into the room in disbelief.

Looking over his shoulder, Jade saw the small bedsit was splattered with crimson.

Red gouts were trickling down the peeling back wall of the kitchenette, where the dirty-brown curtain was twisting and flapping in the wind, and more of them streaked the tiled floor. It half covered the unmade double bed, thick-looking streaks that were deep red in colour, a stark contrast to the crumpled, off-white sheet.

The gruesome sight was bathed in bright light under the uncompromising glare of the bare electric bulb that hung from the wooden ceiling.

There was nobody inside the room.

Jade felt her heart start pounding, fast and hard.

She put a hand on Craig’s arm, aware of a smell in the air, incongruous and yet familiar. A strong, spicy odour. That smell … and the fact the room was empty …

And what was that gleaming on the tiles? It looked like a jagged shard of clear glass.

Jade let out a deep breath that turned into a small, relieved laugh.

‘It’s ketchup,’ she said.

Jade moved her hand as Craig lowered his arms. Her palm felt warm from where it had touched his skin. He turned and looked at her, then stared more closely at the scene in front of him again.

‘Tomato sauce? Are you sure?’ He sniffed the air, then started to laugh. ‘So it is. It’s a glass bottle of All Gold. That caught me by surprise. I thought it was …’

‘I know. So did I.’ Jade pointed to the windowsill above the hot plate, where the curtain was still twisting and writhing in the wind as if possessed.

That sill was where the room’s occupant obviously kept the condiments. The curtain’s movement had also knocked over a plastic tub of mayonnaise, which was lying in between the hot plates on the little cooker, and a Perspex salt grinder that was rolling to and fro, perilously close to the sill’s edge.

The large bottle of tomato sauce must have hit the corner of the cooker when it tumbled off the narrow shelf, shattering into pieces and splattering its contents all over the floor and the bed.

Jade put the bottle of champagne down again. Picking her way delicately over the messy tiles, she squeezed round the edge of the bed, grabbed the flapping curtain, then leaned over and closed the window. She picked up the salt and the mayonnaise and put them both on the small wooden table next to the hot plate.

Then, turning round, she took another look at the bed.

Lying on the pillow was a slim black wallet.

Craig had seen it too.

‘Is that yours?’ she asked him.

‘Looks like mine.’

Stepping carefully, just as Jade had done, he walked over to the bed and picked it up. He opened it and checked the contents with fingers that Jade noticed were tanned and calloused. Whatever Craig did for a living, she was willing to bet it wasn’t a desk job.

Frowning, he pocketed the wallet.

‘Everything there?’ she asked him.

‘All my cards are there. And my driver’s licence.’

‘But?’

‘There’s cash missing.’

‘How much?’

Craig shook his head, clearly frustrated. ‘All of it. There must have been a few hundred inside.’

Jade shook her head. ‘You should report it to the police. Report Monique.’

‘How can I prove she took it? The wallet was left in the boat.’

‘Not for that long.’

‘Anybody could have come past and stolen it.’

‘True. It was her, though. I saw how she looked when she put it in her pocket.’

Jade moved back towards the door. She was starting to feel uneasy, standing in this cluttered, messy little room. Over the strong smell of the spilled ketchup, she began to recognise other odours. Deodorant. Perfume. The smell of Monique herself, emanating from the unwashed sheets on the bed.

And just where was she now?

Jade found herself thinking back to their encounter on the boat, and the way she had looked. Jade knew fear when she saw it, and Monique had been terrified. Now she’d taken money from a customer’s wallet, left her room unlocked …

Glancing inside the wardrobe as she passed it, Jade noticed a selection of shorts and T-shirts in disorderly piles. An ancient-looking wetsuit was folded on top of a backpack on the floor. Clearly, Monique hadn’t packed up and left. Her possessions, such as they were, were still there, but she had gone.

‘She was frightened when I saw her earlier,’ Jade said.

‘Why?’

‘I don’t know why. When we were down by the boat, I asked her, but she didn’t answer. Just ran off.’

Craig shook his head again as he walked out of the room.

‘I guess we’ll have to wait till we see her again,’ he said.

‘I suppose so.’

Jade closed the door gently behind her. Monique might not have gone far, but until she returned her room would just have to remain unlocked.

‘Does she have a car?’ she asked.

‘Yes. She parks it round the corner, behind these rooms.’

‘Let’s go and see if it’s there.’

‘Good idea.’

The elderly white vehicle parked on the grass reminded Jade of the cars she drove. She got her rides from a Jo’burg company called Rent a Runner, and every month she switched the car for a different one. Monique’s vehicle was even older than the worst of the Rent a Runners that Jade drove. It seemed to be more rust than metal. The rear windscreen was cracked and the front number plate was missing.

The memory of the beach vagrant returned to Jade as she headed back down the wooden corridor with Craig. As she rounded the corner, stepping out of the lit area and into the darkness, she thought she saw something.

A flash of movement, further up the driveway close to the trees.

Jade stopped and squinted into the gloom, aware that a misty rain had started to fall and was growing heavier by the minute.

The wind was still whipping the trees, their canopies rustling and swaying, but it wasn’t that movement that Jade had seen. She was sure of it. It had been a swift, furtive motion, as if somebody had seen them and wanted to hide.

‘Anything wrong?’

Craig’s voice, softly, behind her.

‘I saw something. Could have been someone. Up there.’

‘Monique?’ Craig sounded surprised.

‘I doubt it. But when I was down on the beach, I noticed a man heading towards the resort—he looked like a vagrant or a tramp. He came up this way.’

‘You want to go check?’

‘Do you have a torch?’

‘In my chalet.’

As they walked back past Monique’s room, Craig glanced down at the champagne bottle that Jade had left outside the door. ‘Could I … would you like me to put that inside for you?’

‘Thanks.’ Jade picked it up and handed it over. She was glad to be rid of it.

Craig walked the short distance to his chalet, unlocked the door and stepped inside. He returned a minute later holding a torch, with a yellow waterproof jacket slung over his shoulders.

In his hand, he held another jacket, this one leather, which he handed to Jade.

‘You want to put this on? It’ll help keep out the worst of the rain.’

‘Thanks.’

Jade had expected that the jacket would be Elsabe’s—a woman’s size—but when she slid her arms into it, the sleeves were far too long, and she realised that this garment must also belong to Craig.

‘Where exactly did you see it?’

‘Right there.’ Jade pointed.

Craig shone the torch onto the shadowy foliage that lined the two brick-paved lanes of the driveway leading up the hill. The beam lit up nothing out of the ordinary.

Jade wrapped the jacket tightly round her shoulders, glad for the protection from the worsening rain, especially since her legs were bare. Craig was also unsuitably clad for the weather in his khaki shorts and Teva leather hiking sandals.

The leather jacket smelled spicy and smoky, making her think of red wine and log fires.

They walked up the driveway, Craig shining the torch to and fro.

‘You know, there are no fences here,’ Jade said. ‘This place is not well secured. It bothers me that anybody can walk off the road or off the beach, right up to the resort.’

Craig nodded. ‘A lot of the smaller resorts here are pretty laid-back about security, especially compared to the big cities. There isn’t the same level of crime here. You get petty theft, the occasional burglary. Maybe, if you’re unlucky, a smashed car window.’

‘Are you from around here?’

He shook his head. ‘From Cape Town, originally. I’ve spent some time doing fieldwork here, though.’ Prompted by Jade’s questioning glance, he continued. ‘There have been some large-scale ecological studies commissioned here, and that’s my field of expertise. Marine ecology.’

‘Sounds interesting,’ Jade said. ‘So was there an oil spill here recently, then?’

‘An oil spill? No, heaven forbid. Absolutely not. Why?’

‘I’ve noticed black streaks in the sand around here. I thought they might be oil. I didn’t know if I should try to avoid them when I walk on the beach.’

‘No, those are mineral deposits, mostly titanium ore. They occur naturally in the sand around here. The ore originated in the Drakensberg mountains. It was eroded over time, transported to the sea by the rivers, and then washed north by the current to end up in these dunes.’

‘Oh,
OK
then. That makes sense.’

‘That’s why the leatherback turtles come here to breed.’

‘How do you mean? Because of the dunes?’

‘Because the sand is so incredibly mineral-rich. They swim thousands of miles every year to lay their eggs here.’

‘I haven’t seen any of those yet. They sound like amazing … er … animals.’

Was it correct to call a turtle an animal? Or should she have referred to them as reptiles? Jade wasn’t sure.

‘There should be some loggerheads around now, although it is early in the season. They are incredible. The world’s fourth-largest reptile. But sadly, they’re an endangered species.’

So she’d been wrong. They were reptiles. Oh well. Turning her attention back to their surroundings, Jade watched as the torch beam swept over the dark tree trunks, brightening the foliage from shadowy grey to deep green. She kept her gaze fixed on the trees, listening to raindrops spattering on leaves, scanning the narrow strip of forest for any signs that somebody might be hiding there. There would be giveaways. A flash of colour from clothing. Sudden movement that was not caused by the wind.

‘The mineral wealth in the sands is a mixed blessing, because it has historically made this area an endangered one,’ Craig continued. ‘Back in King Shaka’s time, we know that limited mining took place here, because there are remains of metal weapons in the old Zulu settlements—weapons made from minerals mined from these dunes.’

‘And what about more recently?’

‘In the mid-1990s, there was a massive outcry when a company wanted to strip-mine the dunes.’

‘I’m sure I remember hearing about that in the news,’ Jade said.

‘It made headlines all over the country. All over the world, in fact, because it would have been an ecological disaster. One of my very first projects was working to oppose that strip-mining operation. It was successful.’

‘What was the outcome?’

‘The St Lucia wetlands area, or iSimangaliso, as it’s now known, was proclaimed a world heritage site, the first one in South Africa. That put a stop to all such operations within the park, although a couple of areas were mined nearby. And now the dunes are under threat again.’

‘Why’s that?’

‘There’s increasing pressure from developers to have the 1996 legislation overturned, to allow mining to take place in the park, and to open up the area to industrial development.’

The forest area was jungle-like in its density, the area under the trees thick and matted with ferns, lichens and other plants that Jade didn’t recognise. She supposed Craig would know their names. And she assumed that if anybody had tried to hide in here, they would have left an obvious path behind them as they battled their way through the overgrowth.

Craig was still chatting casually about the local ecosystem. It was fine for him to do that, because that was his work. But Jade’s work was different. She knew only too well that locating a hiding fugitive could literally mean the difference between life and death. She couldn’t allow herself to relax, or get too distracted by a conversation that she had to admit was beginning to pique her interest.

‘What’s the justification for scrapping the old laws?’ she asked, despite herself.

‘Well, the argument for declaring the area a national park was that ecotourism could bring as much benefit to the area as mining. But that hasn’t ended up happening as fast as it should have done, for a variety of reasons.’

‘What are those?’ Jade paused to wipe the rain from her face.

‘Practically, the lack of roads is the biggest problem. And, of course, you can’t even build an ecolodge in an area that has sensitive vegetation or problematic soils.’

‘That would be pointless,’ Jade agreed. Even she could see that would be a non-starter.

‘Meanwhile, the local communities have their own problems. They’re among the poorest in the country and they rely on natural resources to survive. With the park a protected area, it means that the forests outside its boundaries are starting to become depleted. They’re pressurising the authorities to open up the areas within the park, because they need more space and materials for subsistence farming.’

‘That’s depressing.’

‘Not as depressing as the fact that the developers have now managed to get a review on the titanium-mining ban. They have requested an ecological reassessment of the area to be done, which will be starting next month. It’s a real worry that the results of that report could tip the balance and see industry winning over the environment again.’

‘I can see how that could happen.’

Craig sighed heavily. ‘It’s a beautiful, peaceful part of the world. But under the surface, it’s a simmering pressure cooker of conflicting interests, and we’re all hoping we can keep the lid from blowing off.’