Treasure of the Golden Cheetah (21 page)

Murdock touched his hat brim in a mock salute and escorted the two women to the house. Seeing four of his actors leave the set finally got Julian’s notice.

“What? Where are they going? We aren’t finished yet!” he demanded.

Jade took a deep breath, trying to curb her own rising temper. Before she could say anything, McAvy stepped in.

“Rex, Jade’s right. The ladies have all had a shock. They need to rest for a while. Frankly,” he added as he swiped an arm across his sweaty forehead, “I could use a drink.”

“Has it occurred to you, Mr. Julian, that someone tried to harm one of your people?” Jade asked.

Julian’s mouth opened and stayed that way. Jade wondered if it was the first time the man had ever been rendered speechless. “But . . . but . . .” he stammered.

“She’s right, Rex,” said Hall. “This was no accident.”

“Nonsense,” Julian declared, having found his voice again. “The thing must have crawled into the box. Probably went after a rodent.” He waggled a finger at her. “We do have those around here, you know.
You
even chased one out of the house, as I recall.”

“How did it get in the box?” asked Jade.

“How should I know? Damned thing crawled in.”

Jade shook her head. “Boomslang are arboreal, for one. Tree dwellers,” she explained when she saw everyone’s confused looks. “It had no business in our storage room or this tent, for that matter.” She picked up the coffer and turned it over in her hands, examining it. “There’s no hole for it to crawl through.”

“It pushed up the lid,” argued Julian. He took the box and demonstrated. “See. It’s very simple.” The heavy lid fell back on his index finger. “Ouch!”

“If it’s so simple, then why didn’t it push its way back out?” Jade asked. “And,” she added before he could reply, “how did it manage to end up inside this bag, too?” She held up the cloth drawstring sack.

“It’s just a sack,” said Julian. “Why shouldn’t it be in there?”

Jade grew impatient with the man’s obtuseness. She stepped in closer until she was within two inches of his face. “I saw this box a few days ago when—”

“What were you—” began Julian.

Jade silenced him with a raised hand. “We were looking for trinkets to give to the Chagga elder so you could hear your precious story.” She lowered her voice, packing purpose into every word. “I looked inside. There was
no bag
in this box. There was
no snake
in this box. This box was in a
locked
crate. And unless the damned snake had the key, someone put it in there!”

“Put what in where?”

Everyone turned to Harry as he and Nakuru strode into camp, two bush pigs strung on a pole carried between them. With his shirt unbuttoned at the throat, and his sleeves rolled up, he looked the epitome of strength and coolness under fire.

“Hascombe. About time you got here,” said Mr. Julian. “What do you mean running off and leaving us unprotected in this wilderness?”

“Unprotected?” Harry handed off his end of the pole to one of the other hired men. “What’s he talking about, Jade?”

She retrieved the boomslang’s headless body and handed it to Harry. “This somehow made its way into one of the set boxes.” She pointed to the head, still lying on the rug. “That’s the rest of it.”

“You?” he asked, not needing to finish the question. Jade nodded.

“But how . . . ?” Harry didn’t get a chance to voice his question. The three actresses spilled forward as though on cue and ran for him.

“Oh, Harry,” they shrieked in unison.

“Protect us, please,” added Cynthia.

Harry nearly went down beneath the combined force of three very nervous, very grateful females.

Jade shook her head and motioned for Biscuit. “Come on, boy,” she said as she walked away. “No hero’s welcome for us.”

 

 

JADE STIRRED THE campfire and added another log.

“Once again, from the top, Jade,” said Harry, his deep voice soothingly low. He’d bathed and shaved and the scent of witch hazel drifted towards her.

She carefully repeated the day’s events, beginning with the director’s change in plans and ending with Harry’s entrance into camp. They sat alone outside. Though it was only seven o’clock, still early by their normal routine, no one seemed in a social mood. The usual poker game on the veranda, played by lantern light, had been called off for the evening. None of the men sat around swapping good-natured yarns of past movie productions. The actresses stayed in their own quarters, and Lwiza saw to their needs, going from one to the other as they called for her. Even Julian had stopped haranguing his assistant and cameramen.

Not that he hadn’t worked them later that afternoon. He’d let the women rest for a short period while he reenacted the snake’s demise, using Fundikira. Then he insisted on calling out Pearl to finish her scene, followed by Cynthia to film the modern finding of the pectoral.

Both women had approached the coffer with trepidation. They had had to be shown repeatedly that there was nothing inside before they would even touch the box. Harry stood guard off to one side, at their insistence. After his initial stifled, “Bloody hell,” when he saw Pearl in her revealing costume, he stood sternly at attention, watching everyone and everything lest another incident occur. Cynthia more than any other stayed close to him, and he put a protective arm around her waist.

The only person who didn’t make an appearance was Bebe. Finally Jade went to check on her and found her lying on her cot, staring at the cracked ceiling. When Jade asked if she needed anything, she declared she only wanted to be left alone. Lwiza brought dinner to her when they broke at six o’clock.

Jelani, who hadn’t been with Harry after all, wandered back into camp around five thirty. His clothes looked wet, as though he’d fallen in one of the streams. When Jade asked him where he’d gone, he merely regarded her like a doctor scrutinizing a patient.

“I had business, Simba Jike,” he’d replied before walking off to get something to eat.

Now, after her own quick bath, she and Harry had gathered on camp chairs for a council of war. Biscuit reclined at Jade’s feet, his forepaws touching her boots. Dirty plates lay on a folding table, and Jade cradled a mug of steaming coffee.

“Well, I’ll admit,” said Harry, “the whole thing has me stumped. A boomslang!”

“So you agree that someone must have put it in the box?” She missed Sam’s solid, no-nonsense logic, but was grateful that Harry took her seriously.

Harry removed his hat and ran one hand through his graying brown hair. “Looks that way, doesn’t it?” He shifted his chair closer to her for a confidence. The scent of witch hazel grew stronger. “Any ideas who?”

Jade shrugged. “I’ve been thinking about it. Remember that fake snake? The one made out of a stocking?” She sipped her coffee, letting the hot liquid caress the back of her throat and the fragrant aroma cleanse her mind.

“The one in Bebe’s bath? You found another one, didn’t you? In Pearl’s tent?”

Jade nodded. “It was unfinished. But what I also remember is how excited our illustrious director got over that idea. He wanted you to find a real snake for him.”

“I remember. The bastard.” Harry leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs. His shoulder brushed Jade’s. “It would be like him to hire one of the natives to get a snake for him. Just so he could have his dramatic scene.”

“Right,” agreed Jade, “but somehow I can’t see him risking any of his people with a poisonous one.”

“Maybe he didn’t expect a venomous snake,” Harry suggested. “Maybe he just ordered a snake. Thought he’d get a rock python or something.”

Jade shuddered.

“You’re shivering, Jade. Are you cold?” He edged closer.

“No. I’m fine.”

Harry put a hand on her shoulder. “I’m a ruddy idiot.
You’ve
had a worse scare than the others. You had to actually kill the bloody thing.”

Jade knew there was an element of truth in his statement. She did feel like collapsing, and for a moment, Harry’s gentle concern nearly did her in. She felt the attraction of having a man’s strong arm around her. But it was Sam’s she wanted. Jade took a deep breath and twisted aside, putting inches between them. “I can’t figure out how
anyone
would risk their life catching something poisonous. What would motivate someone to try it?” She drained her mug.

“Money’s usually a good incentive,” said Harry, withdrawing his hand. “But boomslangs are the least aggressive of the lot, unless they’re agitated. I heard stories of one collector who came out here a few years ago, a biologist of sorts. He found out that they like to curl up and sleep in birds’ nests when it’s cold. So maybe someone took advantage of the cool nights here and caught one that way. Still, it’s not something I’d want to try. Strangest venom.”

“Oh?” prompted Jade.

“Right. You see, it breaks down your blood. But it waits for a day or two.”

“You’re joking. I knew it could take an hour or two, but days?”

“It’s true. I knew of a chap who got bit. His companions kept him absolutely still for well over a day. Man said he felt fine and assumed he didn’t get any real dose of venom. Two hours later some nasty-looking bruises developed on his legs and blood started coming from his nose. Fell down dead a good twenty-eight hours after he was bitten.”

“Hmm, I wonder.” Jade set her cup down and jumped up from her chair. Biscuit raised his head inquiringly. “I’ll be right back,” she told him, and hurried to her tent, where she’d tossed the fabric bag, and brought it back to the fire along with her flashlight. “There is something else in here,” she said. “I can feel it crackle under my fingers.” Jade handed the light to Harry. “Hold that for me, please,” she said. Then she opened the bag and peered inside. Biscuit sat next to her.

“What is it?” Harry asked.

Jade reached in and pulled out the remains of a bird’s nest.

“So was it Julian?” asked Harry. “Should we confront him, do you think?”

Jade thought for a moment. “No. He’d only deny it. And somehow, it doesn’t feel right. I can see him buying a snake, but surely he’d be careful enough to get a dead one at least. We need to keep our ears open, though. Talk to the crew, but keep it easy.”

“An interrogation of sorts,” said Harry.

“In a way, but not so open,” said Jade. “This was probably a single incident, but . . . but after Wheeler’s death, I don’t think either of us wants to take any chances with this lot.”

“You think his death was related?”

Jade heard the skepticism in Harry’s voice. She watched the fire, seeing Sam’s concerned face in her mind’s eye. “Maybe we should pack these people up and get them back.”

Harry shifted in his chair. “Can’t do that, Jade. I’d get fired and probably never get another safari. But I can’t see that it’s that serious. A stupid prank at best, but whatever it was, no one was hurt and I doubt anyone would try another stunt like it.”

Jade frowned. “You’re the boss.”

Harry reached over and touched her arm again. His voice dropped to a husky rumble. “You’re not a flighty woman. When you see danger, it’s generally there. I respect that. But you have to see my position. Still, just because I’m not willing to pack them in doesn’t mean I’m not taking this seriously. No, ma’am. I can ask some questions. Since I wasn’t here for the excitement, I think I can get away with it.”

“Fine,” agreed Jade. “I’ll leave the questioning to you. I’m going to call it a night.”

Harry studied her for a moment. “Are you sure you’re all right, Jade? You’ve had a damned harrowing day, you know.”

“Really, I’m fine, Harry. Thanks for your concern, but I’m just tired.”

“Wait,” he said softly. He stood, too, as she rose from her chair. “In case I forgot to mention it, I’m particularly grateful for your quick thinking and good aim today. You saved some lives. I knew I picked the right person to second this group. Someone I could trust to take care of camp when I’m out of it. I wish you’d let me show you how glad I am that you’re here.”

Jade felt his body heat radiating out to her, carrying his musky, male scent. She remembered over a year ago in Tsavo when he’d kissed her after the rhino attack. She recalled that he tasted of Africa. Then she’d brazenly taken the kiss as her due. But not now. Not this time. “Your trust is enough,” she said, and walked off to find Jelani, trying to think of something else. Her brief comment on Wheeler’s death came to her aid. She hadn’t thought about it for a while, but now everything Sam had said came back to her. She wondered if he might not have been right after all. Did he trust her judgment as much as Harry did? Then she wondered why it mattered so much to her when she hadn’t said yes to his marriage proposal.

 

 

THE LANTERN’S SOFT red glow seemed deceptive. It illuminated without letting one really see. Sam always needed more time to adjust to his night vision than he liked to admit to anyone. He repositioned the lamp so that it was level with his shoulder, casting its glow from behind. That helped. He avoided thinking about what Jade’s reaction would be when she found he’d made prints from her negatives.

No, that wouldn’t work. He didn’t have the face for bluffing. It made him a rotten card player, but an honest man. His best defense if Jade started into a hissy fit would be the truth. He needed evidence that something peculiar was going on, and he thought he might find it in her candid shots of the actors. If she didn’t like it, well, she’d just have to lump it. He had to do something.

He hung the last picture by a clothespin to dry on the line. It was one of that Swahili lady standing to the side, watching while the three actresses posed for a newspaper reporter. Jade had captured not only the woman’s serene face, but also the details of her costume. The fingertips of one hand rested lightly just below her throat, the long white sleeve falling back, exposing an intricate silver band halfway up her forearm. In the background, the American women with their heavily painted eyes and plucked brows pretended to be chummy.