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Authors: Michael Stanley

BOOK: The Death of the Mantis
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“Apart from looking for the bullets, did you search Haake’s
vehicle carefully?”

“We went through it,” Tau replied uncomfortably.

Kubu grunted. “Let’s eat. I’m ravenous. We skipped lunch.” This
wasn’t quite true, since Lerako had supplied sandwiches, but Kubu
regarded those as a snack at best. Nevertheless, as the others
headed towards the campfire, Kubu hung back and called Tau over to
him so that they could talk privately as they walked.

“Our friend Detective Sergeant Lerako believes that the most
likely culprit is the person you find at the scene of the crime.
Did that occur to you, Detective Tau?”

Tau looked at Kubu, a little puzzled. “You mean Haake? But he
was shot at. There’s no doubt there was a bullet hole in his
vehicle…”

“He could have done that himself. He murders Krige, then shoots
at his own vehicle and pretends that there was some third party
involved. We haven’t found any traces of anyone else.”

“But Haake told me he was unarmed, and we didn’t find a gun in
his vehicle.”

Kubu shook his head in frustration. “Don’t you think he could’ve
got rid of it before talking to you? And what about the licence
plate?”

“I wrote it down,” Tau stammered. “It was also from
Namibia.”

“Didn’t that seem strange to you? He’s from the same place as
Krige?”

Tau bit his lip, waiting, but Kubu said no more. At last he said
it himself. “I should’ve kept him in Botswana, Rra. At least until
you and Detective Sergeant Lerako arrived.”

“I’m not saying he is the murderer, just that he’s a possible
suspect. So, yes, you should have kept him in Botswana. Tomorrow
we’ll scour the scene again for bullets, more evidence, whatever.
But we’re going to need a much more detailed interview with Rra
Haake as soon as we can arrange it.”

Then they caught up with the others, queuing for plates of
pappa le nama
.


The Death of the Mantis

Sixteen

“W
hat do you want?”
The clerk was surly. It was nearly closing time, and he wanted to
cash up. It was drinking time in Windhoek. But the stocky man with
the single gold earring, the only remaining customer in the vehicle
registration office, took his time.

“I am selling my
bakkie
,” Wolfgang Haake told him. “But I
have lost the registration papers. I need another copy.”

“You will need the proper form completed and signed, a receipt
for payment, and your identification. It’s late now. You’d better
do it tomorrow.”

“I have all that.” The man was carrying no papers, but he took
out his wallet. He laid a one-hundred Namibian dollar note on the
counter. “As you see, here is the completed form.” He matched it
with another note. “Here I have the receipt you require.” A third
hundred joined the others. “And my ID, of course.”

The clerk glanced around, but no one else was in sight. “It
seems to be in order,” he said, quickly gathering the money. “What
is the
bakkie
’s registration number?”

Haake gave him a scrap of paper with a string of letters and
digits written on it. The clerk nodded and searched for that
number. After a few moments the printer started to hum. The clerk
glanced at the truck-owner’s name on the printout and handed it
over.

“Here you are, Mr Krige.”

Haake checked it, nodded and left.


Haake took a bottle of whisky. It was Use’s favourite, and he
didn’t mind it himself. People thought that because of his German
upbringing he’d like schnapps, but actually he couldn’t stand its
motor-spirit harshness. He preferred something that slid
comfortably down his throat. Something like a good whisky.

He let himself into the apartment. He had his own key. Use
wouldn’t be expecting him, but he didn’t care. And if she was
otherwise engaged, Haake wanted to know about it.

She was sitting on a threadbare sofa, watching television in her
nightdress. She still had a good figure, firm breasts and
adventurous hips. She watched her weight and walked everywhere for
exercise. The door opening startled her, and she jumped to her
feet.

“Oh, Wolfie, you scared me,” she said in German. “I didn’t
expect you till next week. You said – ”

“Yes, I know. But I came back early. Aren’t you glad to see
me?”

“Of course I am,” she said, and kissed him. She felt the bottle
through its paper bag and smiled. “Did you bring me a present? I
have cold water and ice.”

Quickly she cleared away the remains of a cheap takeaway supper
and turned off the television. Haake liked the way Use’s attention
focused on him when he was around. He got good value for the rent
he paid. And when they weren’t together, they did whatever they
liked. It was an arrangement that suited them both.

“Are you hungry?” she asked. “I have some wurst and some cheese
and bread. Or I can cook something.”

“The bread and stuff will be fine. I’ll pour the Scotch.”

He made her a tall drink with ice and water and poured himself a
whisky on the rocks. She busied herself cutting bread, slicing the
sausage and cheese. Moving up behind her, he pressed his body
against her back and held her with his hands on her breasts,
squeezing gently. She wriggled against him, dropped the knife and
turned to kiss him.

“Shall we eat later, Wolfie? Afterwards?”

He laughed, liking her eagerness and the feel of her body
rubbing against the hardness in his shorts. “No, I’m hungry, and we
need to relax and have our drinks.” She laughed too, and kissed him
again hard, exploring his mouth and tongue. She pushed her breasts
against his chest. Satisfied that he was completely aroused, she
let him go and picked up her glass. “Right, eat and drink first,”
she said. She grinned and moved away from him.

Haake watched her appreciatively. She would tease him now, but
when they made love she would be very accommodating.

Use flopped on the sofa with her whisky. “Bring the snacks over,
Wolfie.”

He brought his whisky and the plate to the sofa. Then he told
her the news that he’d been keeping to himself ever since the trip
to Botswana.

“I’m close, Use. I know I’m close. But I ran into some trouble.
Had to get out of there in a hurry.”

“What trouble?” she asked, nervous.

Wolfgang hesitated. “Someone has been following me. When I was
in the bush, and I stopped to explore, on two occasions I heard
another vehicle. It must have been following me. I was in the
middle of nowhere. No one else would be out there. I think they
know what I’m after, and they know I’m closer I’ll be damned if I
let them get one cent. I had the guts to stick with this, and no
one’s going to take it away from me.”

“But who was it?”

“I know who was following me now. And I’ve got a pretty damn
good idea who’s behind it, and I’ll find out for sure. But don’t
worry. It’s sorted out.”

“What happened?”

Wolfgang gave her a hard look. “I said it’s sorted out. I don’t
think I’ll have any more trouble. But I’ll be ready for them if
they try anything.”

Use sipped her drink. Wolfgang had a short fuse and a nasty
temper on occasion. She knew when he didn’t want to be pushed. She
said nothing, but he quickly regained momentum.

“Anyway, it’s all looking good. I know I’m close. Damn
close.”

Use tried to look enthusiastic. She’d heard it all before, from
this man and from others. The huge schools of fish to be caught at
Walvis Bay, the massive uranium deposits hiding under the Namib
desert, the diamonds lying almost exposed on the beaches. The pot
of gold at the end of the rainbow. Why couldn’t they just be happy
with what they had?

“You don’t believe me. But now I’ve put it all together. Those
idiots at the company couldn’t see the wood for the trees.” He
laughed. “Hell, they couldn’t even see the trees.” He looked
pleased and helped himself to another chunk of sausage. “And the
samples I took! I tell you, it’s there. I can almost touch it.”

Use smiled. He’s such a boy, she thought. They’re all the same.
Boys chasing their dreams. And if he does find his dream? Then what
will become of me?

“I’m glad, Wolfie,” she said, meaning it. He smiled back and
offered her a slice of bread he’d lathered with butter and heaped
with cheese. She shook her head and sipped her drink. She’d eaten
enough. Her body was
her
pot of gold. She had to be careful
as time went by. She’d put away some of the money he gave her, too.
Just in case. But Use was happy. Happiness comes from things being
the same, she thought. Not from hoping things will get better, but
from knowing that they won’t get worse.

When she finished her drink, she sat on his lap, licking whisky
from his lips and moustache.

“Do you have to leave early?” she asked. Haake shook his head.
She pulled her nightdress over her shoulders, tossed it to the
floor. Then she unbuttoned his shirt and ran her hands over his
chest, playing with the medal that always hung round his neck. He
said it was a present from his paternal grandfather, who had earned
it in the Great War, but she knew he’d never met his grandfather.
So it must have been given to him by his father, though she’d never
asked. No one dared ask him about his father, who had deserted his
squat, thickening wife and his son and disappeared with a black
woman.

“I’m glad you can stay,” she said. Then she loosened his belt
and started playing in his shorts with clever fingers.


Use woke at about two a.m. Haake was having a bad dream, talking
aloud. He muttered something about a map, then about being
followed, and a theft, something about death. Suddenly he sat up.
“You can’t have it,” he said clearly. “It belongs to me!”

“Wolfie, wake up. It’s just a dream. A bad dream. Everything’s
all right. Nothing has been stolen.”

Haake looked at her, but didn’t seem to register her presence.
After a moment, he dropped back on the bed and rolled over. A few
minutes later he started to snore.

Use tried to get back to sleep too, but she was shaken by the
strange event. Nothing like this had happened before with Wolfgang.
Something was wrong. She tried to piece together what he’d said.
Something about being followed. A map. Death. Someone trying to
steal a map? He had never mentioned a map to her.

It doesn’t concern you, Use, she told herself.

Eventually she abandoned her attempts to get back to sleep. She
got up quietly, went to the living area, pulled on her nightdress
and put the kettle on the electric hot plate. Perhaps a cup of tea
would help. While the water heated, she cleared up and picked up
the rest of the discarded clothes from the floor. She felt the
comforting bulk of Haake’s wallet in the back pocket of his shorts.
Almost without thinking, she took it out and opened it. Namibian
and Botswana banknotes and change. She explored the side pockets. A
picture of her! It was cut from a photo someone had taken of them
together at a party. A credit card. A picture of his mother. And a
folded piece of paper. It looked old, well used. She unfolded it to
reveal a map, hand-drawn in pencil, with a sketch of what appeared
to be three
koppies
. Small circles dotted the faces of the
hills, and one, near the bottom, had an arrow pointing to it with
the letter ‘W’ written next to it. Nearby there was what appeared
to be a crack in the
koppie
face. It had an arrow with an
‘E’. On the back of the paper was another sketch, with regions
filled in with different shadings and different patterns. Written
in heavy letters at the bottom was ‘
Ich habe es hier
gefunden!
HS’. Who was ‘HS’ and what had he found?

“What are you doing?”

Use swung round to see Haake standing naked in the bedroom
doorway watching her, frowning, fists clenched. She could see he
was furious, and she was very scared.

“You were talking in your sleep about a map. That someone was
stealing it! I came to check that it was all right.” Her voice was
unsteady. “I didn’t touch the money.”

Frowning, Haake walked up to her and took the map. “This is
priceless. Do you understand? No one is to know I have it. Do you
understand? Tell no one about it.”

“Yes, of course, Wolfie. I won’t tell anyone. Ever. I’m sorry.
I’m really sorry.” She took his hand and held it to her breast,
moving it so that he could feel the nipple through the silky
fabric. He was still frowning, but seemed less angry. She rubbed
against his crotch with her hip.

“Look,” she said, pointing. “He wants to play again. Me too.
Come, let’s go back to bed.”

Haake folded the map and returned it to his wallet, which he
took with him. He placed his free hand on Use’s buttocks and
steered her back to the bedroom. Minutes later she rushed out
naked, laughing at Haake’s amused protests, to still the whistling
kettle.


The Death of the Mantis

Seventeen

I
may never have to
go on another diet if this keeps up, Kubu thought as Lerako stopped
the Land Rover in front of the Tshane police station just after
four p.m.
Pap
and an appalling watery stew for dinner last
night, if one could call it dinner. And nothing to wash it down
except warm water or instant coffee with powdered milk. Even a bad
red wine would have been better. And if dinner was awful,
yesterday’s stale sandwiches for breakfast this morning were even
worse. Even the diabolical instant coffee tasted good in
comparison. And the final disappointment was that no one had
brought anything for lunch.

“Lerako, I need some decent food! Lots of it, and quickly!”

“Can’t take roughing it in the bush?” Lerako grinned. “You
wouldn’t last long out here. I suppose that’s why you have a cushy
job in Gaborone. Big desk, paved roads and lots of
restaurants.”

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