Poacher (3 page)

Sam shrugged. ‘We’re going to shove your
clothes and boots down that hole and collapse it. By morning you
will be all over the veld in the form of huge piles of hyena dung,
bones and all. Nobody will ever know. That’s the only way you can
escape.’

One look into Sam’s eyes convinced Rui not to
call his bluff. ‘I will show you.’

Aaron winked at Sam. ‘Pity. The man could
have saved us a lot of paperwork. You got a name?’

‘Carlos Perreira.’

‘OK, Carlos. Let’s go see if your friend is
still hanging on.’

The ranger post at Nwanetzi consisted of two
separate areas enclosed with triple fencing. Sam’s house, office
and workshop were separated from his rangers’ compound, where Aaron
and the others lived with their families, by a hundred metres of
dense bush.

Job, the ancient gardener, opened the gates
as Sam approached on the motorcycle, followed by his truck. The
wounded man was groaning in agony on the back of the truck.

‘Aaron, put some Cicatrin on that man’s arm
and get him out of the sun. I’ll see if I can get him a chopper,’
Sam said as he headed for his office.

Sam’s office resembled a small museum in
disarray. On shelves lining the walls was a remarkable collection
of snakes and insects in bottles of formalin, interspersed with a
variety of animal skulls, from a pangolin to a lion. Sam switched
on his radio. ‘Sam 371 calling Skukuza 101.’

Aunt Cecile Steinbeck at reception in the
Parks Board offices was quick, efficient and nosey. ‘Skukuza 101,
hello Sam. How are you?’

‘Hello Aunt Cecile. Fine thanks. Could you
get Mr van Reenen for me please. It’s urgent.’

A moment later John van Reenen was on the
radio. ‘Morning, Sam. Problem?’

‘On the contrary, John. We got the elephant
poachers. All three of them.’

‘Beautiful! You bringing them down?’

‘Two of them. We need a casevac for the third
one – he got his arm shot off. He needs a hospital fast.’

‘OK, I’ll send the chopper to get him to
Nelspruit. Come see me when you’ve dropped the other two off.’

Driving down to Skukuza, Sam decided to take
a short cut via the Sweni fire break. He had to engage four-wheel
drive on the seldom used track, but he preferred the solitude of
fire breaks to the crowded tourist roads. He caught himself
thinking about Linda Crawford, and a sudden feeling of guilt
twisted in his stomach like a live snake.

Estelle, his fiancée, was a schoolteacher,
and the daughter of Dr. Fisher, director of the Parks Board. Sam’s
father and Dr. Fisher had been friends since their schooldays, and
everybody was pleased as punch about the forthcoming wedding. Sam
knew he loved Estelle deeply. He also knew that she would make him
the best wife any man could ever hope for. She was intelligent,
beautiful, virgo intacta, and loved him to a point that scared him.
He had been a contented man, at peace with his life and future. His
apple cart had been upset three weeks ago in the Regional Court in
Nelspruit, the nearest big town to the Park. Sam had been witness
in the trial of three poachers who had put out a poisoned carcass
to kill vultures, which fetched astronomic prices in the muti
(witch-doctor) shops in the big cities. As a result of their
unbelievably good eyesight, vultures had the uncanny ability to
spot a dead animal from heights where they themselves were
invisible to the human eye. Because of this, it was a widely held
belief amongst blacks that vultures have foreknowledge of a kill.
This, in turn, led to belief that potions concocted with certain
remains of a vulture will enable the user to see into the future.
Very handy when playing the horses – instant Nostradamus; hence the
high prices.

The cape Vulture being on the endangered
species list, the Parks board had been determined to make an
example of these three poachers.

The public prosecutor had warned Sam about
the new lawyer in town. Her looks turned your knees to jelly, her
tongue was a scorcher, and she was as liberal as hell. Sam, having
used and dodged females of all calibres in his life, was amused by
this build-up of the woman. Up until he got engaged to Estelle a
year ago, he had enjoyed the female of the species with gusto. The
image of the khaki-clad bronzed bachelor-in-the-bush was
irresistible to women, and Sam had used this advantage to the hilt,
so to speak. The net result was that he had seen it all, done it
all, and after getting engaged, thoughts of other women no longer
crossed his mind. In fact, he found the obtrusive passes that were
still being made by the opposite sex boring, and had lately
developed an attitude of superior contempt towards females in
general.

But nothing could have prepared him for Linda
Crawford. He had been standing outside Court B discussing the case
with the public prosecutor when she swept past. The moment he made
eye contact with her, something snapped in his head. At first he
had tried to understand what was happening to him. He’d been under
the impression that he was immune.

In court he couldn’t concentrate and he
couldn’t keep his eyes off the lawyer for the defense. She’d
rattled him in the witness box and nearly tore him to pieces.

When she approached him afterwards in the
passage he actually felt himself blushing. He could not comprehend
it but he no longer cared. With a wide, white smile she had
introduced herself and inquired about accommodation in Satara rest
camp for herself and a friend for the coming weekend. Just like
that, no preliminary small talk. Although tourism was an entirely
different department, he had assured her that he would organise
something.

He had made a point of being in the
restaurant in Satara when they came in for breakfast the Saturday
morning, and volunteered to show them the prime areas for viewing
game.

Not having inquired about the nature of the
‘friend’, he was consumed by jealousy when she arrived accompanied
by a young doctor doing his housemanship at the Nelspruit Hospital.
He had forthwith proceeded to charm her with everything he had in
his arsenal, much to the chagrin of the doc. She had remained aloof
but he noticed, with great pleasure, that she also treated her
companion as if she had him on a leash.

The following Monday Sam had driven the sixty
odd kilometres to Orpen Gate and phoned her. He was going to be in
town in two weeks time and could he see her? She told him to come
to her house on the Saturday morning and to be sure to bring his
swimming gear.

He was brooding so deeply about what was
happening to him that he nearly lost the Toyota as it went into a
skid on the muddy track. Aaron’s loud comment from the back of the
truck, supported by a chorus from the poachers pulled him out of
his reverie. He felt an icy finger crawling along his spine as he
thought about his trip to Nelspruit tomorrow. He felt elated at the
thought of seeing Linda, yet at the same time apprehensive. . .

The police station at Skukuza consisted only
of a charge office and two small holding cells. Sam dropped Aaron
off with the two prisoners and told him to meet him at the Nature
Conservation offices in an hour or two.

Aunt Cecile was on to Sam the moment he set
foot in reception. ‘Sam, nice work! How have you been, all alone up
there in the bush? Are you eating well?’

‘Aunt Cecile, I’ve been eating well for the
past ten years.’

She took a stack of mail from under the
counter and handed it to Sam. ‘Been keeping your mail for you. I
see there’s a letter from Estelle.’

‘Thanks.’ Sam headed for the passage, but she
hadn’t finished with him.

‘So have you decided on a date yet? A girl
won’t wait forever, you know.’

‘I know, Aunt Cecile. We just haven’t gotten
around to it yet.’ Again the snake coiled in his stomach.

As he passed the office door of the newly
appointed public relations officer, Sam stopped and stuck his head
in. ‘Hey, Joao, what’s it like, driving a desk?’

Until a month ago Joao had been divisional
ranger near Pafuri in the north. Having declined promotion on two
previous occasions, he had had no option but to accept the new
post.

‘Lousy. Come on in, talk to me about the
bush.’

You should have been out there last night – I
had sixty millimetres. It was heaven. And to round it off, we
nailed the elephant gang this morning.’ Sam was in the process of
admiring a new pen set on the desk, and he missed Joao’s expression
of utter shock. By the time he looked up Joao had composed himself.
‘Identification?’ he asked casually.

They never carry any,’ Sam said. ‘But we’ll
play them off against each other. Two of them are in the cells
here, and the other one is in Nelspruit Hospital.’

Joao looked at his watch. ‘You’ll have to
excuse me – I’ve still got to make the bank before they close.’

‘Yeah, John’s waiting for me. Be seeing
you.’

Shortly after midnight Joao stopped in front
of the small Skukuza police station in his official Parks Board
4x4. The constable on duty was surprised to see anybody at this
time of night. ‘Evening . . . uh, morning, Mr dos Santos. Anything
wrong?’

‘No, I’ve been working late, and I’ve got to
go up north first thing in the morning. Thought I’d pop in and have
a look at those two poachers – I think I might be able to help you
with identification.’

‘Good. They’ve clammed up on us – pretend not
to understand English. Maybe you can get something out of them.’
The constable took a bunch of keys from his desk and headed for the
cells in the back, switching on the lights as he went. ‘The
Nelspruit police are grilling the one in the hospital, and they’ll
fetch these two in the morning. Would be nice if we could at least
give them something to play off against the other one.’ He checked
the pistol on his hip before pushing open the cell door. Joao
grinned at the constable. ‘We’ll give them something, all
right.’

The constable was watching the two prisoners
closely. So closely, in fact, that he didn’t notice Joao produce a
silenced 9mm Heckler & Koch pistol from underneath his bush
jacket. ‘In for a penny, in for a pound, eh, constable?’ Joao said
and shot the man between the eyes.

Chapter Two

Sam left Nwanetzi at six the next morning. He
had to drive sixty kilometres through the Park to get to Orpen, the
gate closest to him.

From there it was another 130 clicks to
Nelspruit. He wanted to be in town early to do some shopping before
he went to visit Linda. He wondered what would be the earliest
acceptable time to put in his appearance.

Having lost some time by not exceeding the 50
kilometre/hr speed limit in the Park, he out his foot down once
outside. He was in town just after eight, his two-year-old Alfa
Romeo purring with joy after the hard ride.

Parking in the new Nedbank Centre he took the
lift down to the ground floor and had a cup of coffee at Gobbles.
He couldn’t get the woman out of his mind, and he couldn’t get the
snake out of his stomach. He was going to visit her just this once
to convince himself that he was infatuated with an image rather
than a person, and then get her the hell out of his system.

Living in the bush, he never had much use for
swanky civilian clothing, so his first stop was Threads, across the
road. Midas Blum, the owner, had excellent taste in men’s clothing,
and was a salesman par excellence. After having spent three times
as much as he intended, Sam walked out with the assurance that the
alterations would be completed in ninety minutes flat.

His next stop was the pharmacy, where he
purchased a bottle of White Linen perfume, which he could ill
afford.

He felt like the proverbial schoolboy on his
first date, and dawdled around town, killing time. Estelle was
nagging at the back of this mind, worrying at his conscience like a
terrier with a rag.

He squashed the thought, stepped on the
snake, and went to pick up his new clothes. In the fitting room he
decided to keep on the new white slacks, loafers and green shirt.
Back at the car he put the rest of his new stuff in his suitcase
and stashed his old clobber in a corner of the boot. The suitcase
was for in case things went according to plan.

Sam missed her house on the first pass, but
when he eventually turned into the driveway at 10:30, he couldn’t
believe his eyes. It was a magnificent house, set well back in a
resplendent garden. Must have a very rich daddy, he mused. At her
age she could not have earned enough to be able to afford this on
her own. In the driveway was Dr. Eben Smith’s 230 E and a
jaguar.

Despondently surveying his surroundings he
fleetingly considered sabotaging the Mercedes. Never mind. He got
out and rang the doorbell.

When she opened the door it was like the
first time all over. He had the gut feeling that he was hooked. She
was wearing a bright yellow summer dress, accentuating the curves
of her lithe body; her limbs were tanned and her eyes took his
breath away. His image theory faded into obscurity. ‘Hello, Sam, so
good to see you.’ She presented a cheek, and he had some difficulty
in just pecking it politely. Momentarily he had a blind urge to put
his arms around her and kiss her properly, and to hell with the
consequences.

‘Linda. Even more beautiful than I
remembered. I see you have visitors. Shall I come back later?’

‘Don’t be ridiculous. We have all been
waiting for you. It’s just Smitty and my partner. We’re having
braai at the pool.’ She took his hand and led him through the house
to the patio at the back.

He wanted to stop her, talk to her, tell her
what was happening to him, but then they were out in the sun once
more, with people getting up out of chairs and shaking hands.