Treasure of the Golden Cheetah (31 page)

Wheeler’s death lent itself to several “whos,” each with its own “why.” Julian wanted control of the motion picture and had an eye for treasure; Cynthia wanted control of the money or revenge for Wheeler’s affairs. Any actor might have borne a grudge. But unless Julian knew that Cynthia was Wheeler’s spouse, he took a risk of being left stranded without any money.

The Chagga woman’s death could be attributed to that boomslang snake. Someone had witnessed Rehema’s outburst and offered her a more certain mode of ridding herself of a rival without having to kill herself to put a curse in effect. And the price? One poisonous snake.

Jade shivered. The boomslang didn’t work. Whoever it was intended for didn’t die. Did that mean there would be another attempt on someone here? Where did Zakayo’s death fit in? Was he killed because he knew something about the transaction? Or had that rifle and bullet gotten into Cynthia’s hand by mistake?

Ah, Sam. You were right all along. Where the heck are you when I need you?
Jade longed to be able to talk to him about this, hear his logical ideas, feel his strength near her.
Well, you’re on your own.
Some part of her deep inside mocked her.
Isn’t that the way you prefer it?

Another corner of her brain reminded her that she wasn’t completely alone. She had Harry. She should make use of him as an ally and quit thinking of him as an enemy, as she had in the past. And to his credit, he had changed.
Well, at least a little.
Jade noted that Harry now treated her like a trusted business partner. In place of a lover’s empty flattery, he’d complimented her on her levelheadedness. True, he’d admitted earlier that he still cared for her, but at least he hadn’t chased her like a rutting elk.

She’d expected him to invite her inside. To her surprise, he’d come out, shirt half-buttoned, and suggested they take a walk, listening intently to everything she’d said.

“That tops it and no mistake,” he’d said. “I’ve got to hand it to you, Jade. You’ve made me see things in a different light.”

“So we ship these people back?”

Harry had shaken his head, rubbing a big hand across his scraggly chin. “Can’t. Might lose my license. But we will keep a closer watch from now on. Nobody fires a rifle that we haven’t checked. Instead of that idiot Homerman, we keep the keys to the boxes. I’m trusting you with that. And we oversee everything they set up or put out for their scenes. No surprises.”

“Do you think it’s Julian?” Jade asked.

“Seriously? I’m not sure. Maybe Hall or Wells. Wells has had an eye on Bebe.”

“I’ve been thinking. There’s another person who’s been on this trip whom we’ve overlooked.”

“Not Nakuru!” said Harry.

Jade shook her head. “No. Lwiza. For the life of me, I can’t figure out any motive for her to do any of this, but she certainly has had access to a lot of boxes and she overheard where Homerman stashed his keys. I wonder if Lwiza took one of the women’s rouge compacts and used it to barter for that snake. She could have put it in that coffer.”

“Then
you
keep an eye on her. I don’t know anything about those women’s paints. I’m trusting you. Good night.” He’d hurried back to his own tent.

Trust
. That old bugaboo kept popping up a lot lately. Now, as she stood guard, watching the trees for movement, she wished Sam trusted her as much.

Is that why you haven’t accepted him yet?
She had no answer to that, just a longing ache.

Before sunrise, they roused everyone out of bed. Nakuru directed his men in taking down the tents while the Americans stumbled off to eat breakfast. Before they’d finished their oatmeal and bush pig ham slices, Nakuru and his men were ready to leave. They headed up the trail first, without waiting for the others. An hour and a lot of fussing later, the Americans were ready, too.

The hike to Bismark’s hut should have been a stroll in the park. The path climbed gently and steadily through a green canvas. Long, feathery moss from a few trees and their shorter cousins coated every rock or fallen log. Impatiens in scarlet, violet, and yellow speckled the green, along with lush white begonias. They stepped over or around many trees, uprooted by elephants, providing more canvas for the moss to paint.

“Ouch!” yelped Homerman only twenty minutes into the walk. “I stepped on something sharp.”

“Hold up, people,” called Harry. “Let’s have a look.” He pulled his knife and probed the boot heel. “What the . . . ? It’s a ruddy nail.” He pulled it and tossed it aside.

Jade picked up the nail and noticed that it wasn’t rusty. She shoved it into a side pocket and continued up the slope. Gray-faced monkeys followed them in the treetops, and yellow orioles flashed among the leaves. Jade longed for a way to capture the beauty and vibrancy but the light was too dim to enable a photograph. This called for a painter’s touch. She made mental notes to record later in her journal.

But despite the beauty, Jade couldn’t shake the unnerving sense that something was following her. She trailed the column, Harry taking point, and kept her eye on the forest for signs or sounds of approaching Chagga warriors. Once, she caught a glimpse of an elephant, a shadow moving in shadow. For a brief moment, the sight swept her back to another mountain and another forest: Marsabit. With it came memories of her first meeting with Sam. She sighed. But except for long columns of ants carrying what looked like yellow pollen, she saw little wildlife.

Jelani hung towards the rear of the column as well. Jade heard his low, crooning chant drift back to her and wondered if he, too, sensed something. Even Biscuit kept casting sidewise glances into the forest. But if the Chagga or something else followed them, they stayed well hidden. Jade put it down to tension and an overactive mind and continued on.

Their path paralleled the Una, which graced them with views of trickling waterfalls that would swell to engorged torrents after a rain. At other times, they crossed it or one of its tributaries along a more shallow riffle, using logs or rocks placed at convenient stepping points by Chagga, who used the trail to maintain their aerial bee barrels, cultivated hives set high in the trees. After nearly two hours and yet another stream fording, the trail grew rockier and steeper.

The forest changed with the trail. Now great buttressed trees dominated the landscape, and tangled masses of bearded moss hung from every one, as if passing women or ancient warriors had snagged their hair and left it to hang.

Alas for Absalom,
thought Jade.

Tree ferns twice the height of a man grew out of rich, black soil. When the group trod on the path, the dirt released an aroma of fertile humus, the mountain’s accumulated memory held within it. Club moss and gray lichen clung to everything. The air grew damper, and the women complained that it was ruining their hairstyles.

“Not much farther,” Harry coaxed. “We’re nearly to the hut. Nakuru left us some food there before continuing on up to tomorrow’s stop.”

Forty minutes later, they spotted Bismark’s hut, a rectangular stone building. Five windows and a door faced the downward slope. The ground in front of the house was cleared of brush, while a row of tall trees stood sentry over the rear. Jade pulled her Kodak and snapped the party as they plopped on the ground or on the steps up to the door.

“Where’s the latrine?” asked Julian.

Harry pointed to the trees. “I told you that you shouldn’t expect anything quite as nice as our base camp,” Harry said. “Jade will stand guard for any of you ladies.”

“You must be joking,” said Bebe. She opened the door and stared at the empty hut. “Where’s the furniture? What are we to sleep on?”

“Your blankets,” said Jade. “But we can collect dried lichen from the forest for bedding. It’s soft.”

“I have no intention of gathering anything or sleeping on something that might have bugs in it,” said Pearl. Hall echoed her sentiment.

After the group had picked out and claimed their spots on the floor inside the hut, Jade tried to coax the women into exploring the area. They each declared themselves positively unwilling to take another step and lay down on their blankets to nap. Jade set one of the hired men as guard while she collected lichens for her own bedding. She deposited her load inside near the door and arranged her blanket on top. Then, unwilling to leave her charges, she resigned herself to staying in camp and joined some of the male actors.

“Anyone game to try their luck at cards again tonight?” she asked.

“You cleaned me out the last time, Jade,” said Talmadge. He grinned. “My daddy taught me to keep an eye out for female cardsharps.”

“I’m hardly a cardsharp. And,” she added, “you only lost two dollars and thirty-seven cents to me. Come on. We’ll use coffee beans for chips. Penny a bean. Five-card draw.”

The foursome sat on the ground and Jade dealt. As she handed round the cards, she felt Kilimanjaro jiggle under her.

“What the . . . ?” began Talmadge.

“Just another little earth tremor,” said Harry. “Don’t worry. Kilimanjaro isn’t active.”

“There’s the first good news I’ve heard today,” said Talmadge, looking at his cards. “I’m in for another cent,” said Talmadge, upping the ante.

“One lousy cent?” scoffed Murdock. “Shoot, man, you must have a full house and are trying to hide it from us.” He tossed in a bean. “I’ll see it.”

As the hand progressed, Jade kept her cards close and watched the other players with a practiced eye. Her father’s foreman, Dody Higgins, had taught her that most people gave away information with some telltale sign, called a tell: “You don’t need to be a cheater and mark cards to read their hands. Just watch for that twitch or nose scratch. I knew a man who coughed every time he had three of a kind or better.”

He was right. She’d played poker only twice before with these men, but in that time, Jade had already picked up on some of their signs. Talmadge pulled his cards closer to him and pushed in ten more beans. Wells saw his raise, but Murdock chewed on his lip and folded. As Jade saw the raise and added ten more beans, Wells dropped out of the hand. Soon only Talmadge and Jade remained.

“What d’ya got, lady?” asked Talmadge.

“Pair of nines,” she said, laying those two faceup on the ground. Then, just as Talmadge’s grin broadened, she set down the other three. “And three jacks.”

“Full house,” exclaimed Wells. “Damn. That sure beat my pair of tens. Glad I folded.”

Murdock shrugged. “I had a two, three, five, six, and a king. Turned in the king hoping for a four. Got a nine.”

Talmadge grinned. “Going for an inside straight, huh? I had a lousy pair of twos. Thought I could bluff you all into folding.” He looked at Jade and shook his head. “You
are
some kind of cardsharp, lady.”

Murdock laughed at Talmadge. “Hell, Roland, it doesn’t take a sharp to tell when you’re bluffing versus when you’ve got a full house. You get all protective when you’ve got a good hand. Me, I’ve got the perfect poker face.”

Jade didn’t bother to contradict him. He always pursed his lips when he had a good hand.

“You just must not be as good an actor as we are, Talmadge,” said Wells. “That’s why you get to do all the action-man roles instead of act.”

Jade chuckled along with the others, but wondered how much truth was in that simple statement.
Just how good are these actors?
She decided she needed to start watching for tells when she talked to them. Had someone already revealed a lie and she hadn’t caught it?

“I hope you gentlemen are good for all this loot,” Jade said. “I—”

A string of angry curses interrupted her.
Harry.

“Deal me out, fellows. I think I’d better see what’s amiss.”

She left them and hurried over to Harry and Muturi. They stood beside a fire ring and a heap of sticks. Jelani stood a few steps in the background with the remaining porters.

“What’s wrong?”

Harry held out a tin for her to take. “It’s the matches. They’re soaked.”

“Soaked?” Jade opened the tin. Sure enough, the matches swam in a pool of water, their sticks swollen and wet. “How?”

Everyone shrugged. Everyone but Jelani, who stood with arms folded across his chest and a scowl on his face.

“And that isn’t all,” said Harry. “Muturi opened the box of mealy meal and it’s half-empty. I found a hole in the bottom. It’s been trickling out all morning.”

Jade remembered the nail and the trail of ants carrying flecks of yellow.
Then that was meal and not pollen.
“Do we have enough for the porters for tonight and tomorrow?”

“Yes, but it’s going to cut rations a bit tighter farther on,” said Harry. “Especially if we consume any of it for griddle cakes for breakfast.”

“Then we do without griddle cakes,” said Jade, knowing that the African men relied on the meal as a main staple in their diet. It was also part of their hire. If they didn’t receive it, Harry would be in violation of contract. “Save the meal for the porters. We’ve got jerked meat, right?”

Harry nodded. “And dried fruits. Muturi will soak it all and make some sort of fruited stew concoction.” He scowled. “Once we get the ruddy fire going. Looks like I’ll have to waste a cartridge and use the gunpowder.”

“Save your ammunition,” said Jade. “I can help.” She instructed Jelani to gather more dried moss and lichens while she searched the fallen debris for a flat block of dry wood. When she located one, she carved out a small bowl and cut a notch near it, releasing the wood’s fragrant resins. Next she fashioned a bow from a green branch and a spare bootlace. The lace wrapped once around a dried and pointed stick.

“Voilà,” Jade said. “A bow drill.” She slid a leaf under the board’s notch, pushed the pointed end of the stick into the shallow bowl near it, and sat on the ground, her feet planted on each end of the cedar plank to hold it in place. Then, using the match tin lid and her handkerchief as a loose cap on the drill, she pushed and pulled on the bow. Each movement rotated the drill in the cedar, heating it with the friction of rubbing. After several minutes, she checked the leaf for a tiny glowing coal worn from the wood. Jade slipped the coal into Jelani’s bundle of dried mosses and cupped it in her hands like a nest. She blew gently on the nest, coaxing it to burn. After smoking a moment, a small flame shot up and soon the entire bundle was aflame. Jade gently placed the material in the fire ring and carefully fed it small twigs until the fire grew strong enough to support larger twigs and small branches.