Poacher (4 page)

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Authors: Leon Mare

Tags: #africa, #wilderness, #bush, #smuggle, #elephant, #rhino, #shoot, #poach, #kruger park

BOOK: Poacher
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‘Duncan Courie, my partner, and his wife
Esther. Smitty you have met.’ It was obvious that Smitty was not
jumping for joy. He merely grunted and lifted his glass.

Sam had never met Courie before, but his
liberal reputation was way ahead of him. He was a sharp lawyer, of
very left-wing persuasion. ‘Bloody Communist,’ Sam thought as he
smiled amiably and shook hands. How the hell a Lebanese lawyer
could do so well in the ultra-conservative Lowveld was beyond Sam.
Courie, sporting a black goatee, was of slight stature, with a skin
so white that he resembled a fresh cadaver. Looking at the man Sam
wondered idly if he really was of Lebanese origin.

‘Drink?’ Linda asked, flashing him a smile
that seemed to melt the fillings in his teeth.

‘A cold Castle if you have one, please.’

‘Smitty, would you mind fetching our guest a
beer from the kitchen please?’

Sam detected a slight tightening of the
corners of the mouth as Smitty heaved himself out of the chair.
‘Sure thing, love.’

Good sign, Sam thought, sitting down.

‘Beautiful place you have here,’ he
commented, waving his hand in the general direction of the
pool.

‘Oh, I just adore the Lowveld. You can just
stick anything in the ground, give it food, water and love and it
grows.’

He thought about commenting on that, but let
it pass for the time being.

Smitty returned with the beer and Sam
accepted the glass as well, although he preferred his beer straight
from the bottle.

‘Thanks, doc.’ Again he detected the
tightening around the mouth. Stuff you, he thought.

‘So,’ Courie said, ‘You are the man with the
key to Mozambique,’ referring to the Park gate at Nwanetzi.

Most of the blacks employed by the Parks
Board were from the Shangaan tribe in Mozambique. To facilitate
their movement between the two countries a gate was established at
Nwanetzi by mutual consent of the two governments. It was always
locked, but once a month, when the labourers had a long weekend,
Sam opened it and acted as immigration official to the employees on
weekend passes. It was actually a farce, as nobody wanted to go
home to a war zone. What made things worse were the roving bands of
deserters from both armies, raping, killing and looting, and having
themselves a great time in the confusion created by the civil war.
In both armies the line of command was often non-existent, which
contributed to the chaos.

The labourers only used this concession to
take food to their families in Mozambique. The last Thursday of
every month found Sam sitting behind a table under a beach umbrella
on one side of the border, dishing out sacks of maize meal as
rations to the departing labourers, while a horde of their
countrymen with AK47 assault rifles were confiscating the stuff on
the other side of the fence. Sometimes the Parks employees were
fortunate enough to negotiate a deal with the soldiers and
deserters, enabling their people to take at least some of the food
to their kraals. This made it all worthwhile to them.

‘Yeah, but we are fighting a losing battle
with the rations,’ Sam said, in reply to the lawyer.

‘It would appear so, yes. And with the
poachers. And with the illegal immigrants.’

Linda’s female intuition warned her of the
animosity that was lying just beneath the surface between the two
men, and she interrupted the conversation before one of them could
antagonise the other. ‘Smitty, seeing that you are on duty at two
you had better start the fire if you don’t want a hungry shift
ahead of you,’ she said.

This immediately put Sam in a jovial mood. He
was going to get close to her. Alone. No Smitty breathing down his
neck.

Courie was also being Mr Nice himself. ‘Let
me fetch you another drink, darling,’ he smiled at his wife.
‘Linda, you OK? Sam?’

‘It’s all right Duncan, thanks,’ Linda said.
‘Go ahead and help yourself. Sam, I think you can pour me a Pimms,
please. Everything is on the counter in the kitchen. And get
yourself another beer.’

‘I’ll also have another Castle please, Sam,’
Smitty said, busying himself with the glowing charcoal.

‘Coming up. You want it on the rocks,
Linda?’

‘Please, Sam.’ Accompanied by a smile that
shook his foundations once more.

When he passed her her drink their fingers
touched briefly and they exchanged glances. ‘This woman is unreal,’
he thought. ‘This can’t be happening. I shouldn’t even be
here.’

The underlying tensions amongst the three men
gradually abated and the conversation drifted into trivialities.
Sam was infatuated. Totally smitten, he couldn’t keep his eyes off
Linda, a fact that didn’t escape the others, especially Smitty.

‘Long drive back tonight, Sam,’ he commented
hopefully.

‘Actually I was planning on taking Linda to
dinner tonight and staying in the hotel till tomorrow. It is a bit
risky driving through the Park at night. If that is all right with
you?’ he asked Linda.

‘Sounds super,’ she replied.

‘Gotcha, you superior bastard,’ he thought
while smiling at Smitty.

The steaks were excellent, as were the
salads.

After the meal Smitty reluctantly excused
himself, and the Couries left not long afterwards. Seeing them off
in the driveway Sam couldn’t resist a parting shot. ‘Duncan.
Someday when you are really interested to see for yourself why we
are fighting a losing battle, come and visit me for a couple of
days, and I’ll show you things you won’t believe. Maybe you can
make a useful contribution. Like not trying to get the poachers off
the hook every time.’

‘I just might take you up on that. Be seeing
you.’ With that he gunned the Jaguar out of the driveway and Sam
gazed at the disappearing car with a slight frown. For a civilian,
Courie knew a hell of a lot about what was happening on the eastern
border. The gate at Nwanetzi was definitely not public
knowledge.

‘Never mind him, Sam, he tends to be a bit
outspoken at times.’ She took his hand and they walked to the front
door. He imagined an electric current passing from her hand,
shooting up his arm and blowing a couple of million synapses in his
brain.

The moment they were in the foyer she was in
his arms and he was kissing her. When he wondered about it later he
could not remember how it happened. He crushed her to him and time
stopped. He was acutely aware of her smooth skin under his right
hand and her lithe body moulded to him. He slid both hands down her
back to her buttocks and pulled his head back slightly, looking
into her eyes. ‘What are you doing to me, woman?’ With her thighs
pressed tightly against his she must have been fully aware of what
she was doing to him, for she put her hands on his chest and pushed
him away gently. ‘No, Sam, you are engaged. You are getting married
next year. This isn’t going to work out.’

‘Who told you that?’

‘Never mind. Let’s go for a swim.’

He couldn’t think of anything snappy to come
up with and sheepishly let it ride.

‘Get your things from the car, and you can
get dressed in the guest room. Second door to your left down the
passage.’

He left his suitcase in the trunk, just
taking his bathing costume and a towel. She was behind a closed
door at the end of the passage, and on his way through the kitchen
he got her another Pimms and a beer for himself.

He was sitting on the top step in the pool,
pipe clenched between his teeth and the beer in his hand when she
came walking through the French doors. His pipe dropped into the
water and his eyes bulged. ‘Holy sh--!’

She had on a shocking bright yellow bikini
bottom, and that was it. The tan on her high, firm breasts made it
clear that this was her regular attire.

She sat down next to him in the water and
leaned across him, reaching for her drink, her nipple brushing his
arm lightly. Sam was awestricken and was absentmindedly patting the
bottom of the pool, searching for his pipe.

She looked at him and smiled.

‘What’s the matter, Sam. Don’t you
approve?’

‘Of course I approve. You are the most
magnificent woman I have ever set eyes on. It’s just that you
caught me off sides there for a while.’ He had difficulty looking
her in the eyes as he was talking.

‘What about the neighbours?’ he asked,
scrutinising the hibiscus hedge surrounding the property.

With his conservative Afrikaner background
this was all new to him.

‘Stuff the neighbours,’ she said, shaking him
to his foundations once more.

He was now completely rattled and busied
himself with the drying of his pipe.

‘Who told you I’m getting married?’ He had to
get some sort of conversation going.

‘Sam, I liked you from the very beginning. It
is my business to know things that are liable to affect me.’

He took her face in his hands and kissed her
lightly. ‘I love you,’ he blurted, unable to stop himself.

‘Don’t say that.’ She once again pushed him
away gently. ‘Go fetch us another drink.’

Building her drink he looked at her through
the kitchen window. ‘Jenkins you’re in deep shit,’ he mumbled to
himself. He felt like a bumbling amateur, completely out of
control, and he had no idea where they were headed. He had the
fatalistic sensation of going downhill in a large truck with a full
load and no brakes. And to make things worse, he was on a
completely unfamiliar stretch of road. Nothing to do but roll with
the punches, he decided.

He lowered himself into the pool next to her
again, trying to ignore the two accusatory nipples that had
hardened slightly in the cool water.

‘So what about Smitty,’ he wanted to know.
‘Anything serious?’

‘Like the song says, we’re just friends.’

‘Not bloody likely,’ he thought, but
refrained from commenting.

He floated out to the middle of the pool and
turned around, facing her, ‘You are a witch,’ he said, wading
towards her. He was serious and was looking into her eyes with an
intensity that made her apprehensive. ‘You have cast a spell over
me that makes me do things I should not even be dreaming of.’

He drifted over her legs where she was
sitting on the top step, and she lowered her knees to accommodate
him. His hands were around her and he was kissing her breasts. Her
hand was in his hair and she pulled his face towards hers. ‘Sam, oh
Sam, what’s happening to us?’

The snake coiled again, and he crushed it
beneath his heel without even thinking about it.

He took her hand and led her into the
house.

They did not make love. They copulated
furiously like two rutting animals. As she screamed and scratched,
he drove into her relentlessly. He could not get enough of her. He
wanted to lose himself in her, be part of her forever.

Having spent themselves, the world took a
long time righting itself and returning to normal. He traced his
fingers across her flat muscular belly that was slick with sweat.
‘I love you,’ he said without opening his eyes. She was looking at
him with post-coital dilated pupils. ‘Don’t say that, Sam. It will
only cause heartbreak. We found each other too late.’

‘Like hell,’ he said sitting up morosely. He
was at a loss for words. He was feeling guilty as hell but he knew
that if he could turn back time he would do it all over again.

He got up and sauntered to the fridge.
‘Pimms?’ he asked.

‘I need one.’

They never got to the restaurant. Instead she
made them smoked oysters on toast, and they spent the evening
discovering each other mentally and physically.

‘We have to get some sleep,’ she murmured at
one stage. ‘You have to leave early tomorrow.’

‘I am not leaving you,’ he said, folding his
arms around her once more.

Once again the slight stiffening. She pulled
her head back and looked at him. ‘I am sorry, Sam, but I have a
date that I cannot cancel. I am not in the habit of going back on
my word.’

‘“Is it bloody Smitty again?’ he asked
heatedly.

‘You are being unfair and you know it. You
also know that this is infatuation and there is no future in
it.’

‘Is that all this means to you? Infatuation?
Of course there is a future in it,’ he said, overriding his
screaming conscience and barging along the unknown road leading to
God knows where.

Having barely slept at all he left the next
morning at seven.

‘When do I see you again?’ he asked, pressing
her back against the car with his body. Her hands were clasped
behind his neck and she smiled up at him, looking as if she had had
eight hours beauty sleep. ‘Any time, Sam just call,’ and she
pressed her body against him.

Driving off, he was even more confused than
before. The events of the past twenty-four hours were like pieces
of two entirely different jigsaw puzzles. Did she love him or was
she playing with him?

Was he, for that matter, in love with her, or
was she right in saying that it was merely infatuation?

‘Boy,’ he mumbled to himself, ‘if last night
was infatuation I could live off it forever.’

 

It was still fairly early when he entered the
Park. He had no inclination to spend the Sunday alone at his house
trying to study. It would be a waste of time, anyway. He had too
much else on his mind.

Instead of carrying on straight past Satara
towards Nwantezi, he turned north. Louis was stationed at an
outpost halfway between Olifants and Letaba rest camps, another
hundred-odd kilometres away.

It was just past eleven when he opened
Louis’s gate to be greeted by the two magnificent Staffordshire
Terriers. He drove into the yard and closed the gate behind him,
taking care to latch it, so as not to give the dogs a chance to get
out.

Of all the employees in the Park, only the
game rangers were allowed to keep dogs. The life expectancy of a
dog in the Park was not very good. Many a young dog had been lost
to raptors within a few yards of their masters. Martial eagles had
been known to take fully grown fox terriers, so small dogs were
out. Any dog outside the fence had practically no chance of
survival, unless he was well trained and accompanied by his
master.

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