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Authors: Michael Stanley

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“A map?” Lerako exclaimed. Could it be the same one Kubu had
mentioned? he wondered.

“Yes. But he wouldn’t tell me what it was supposed to be, or
where he’d got it. On one side it looked like a drawing of a few
koppies
, with some arrows and letters, and the other had
what could have been a geology sketch. He wanted to know if I could
help him find the area the map was supposed to represent. But I
don’t know about geology.” She shrugged. “Anyway, it’s all under
the sand, isn’t it?”

Jill’s gaze wandered past the
braai
area and out into the
desert. “There’s supposed to be a city buried out there, too.”

Lerako snorted. He didn’t believe in old legends of lost cities
and vanished cultures. He did believe in murderers, though. But
Jill hadn’t finished.

“I was sure I’d seen that map before, Detective. That’s how I
guessed what Haake was after.”

Lerako was interested in that. “Where had you seen it?”

Jill sighed and thought for a moment. “Do you know the story of
Hans Schwabe? He was a German prospector, also from Namibia – South
West Africa it was then. It was more than fifty years ago. He was
also after the diamonds. He was caught prospecting around the
Kalahari where he wasn’t allowed to be. That map was supposed to
have been drawn by him.

“About twelve years ago, a man named Herman Koch came out here.
He wasn’t secretive like Haake. He was trying to discover where all
the alluvial diamonds of the Namibian coast come from. Nobody’s
ever found out. He actually thought it might be the big field of
diamonds down the road here – the one that De Wet is trying to
develop now – but it’s not nearly rich enough. Anyway, I remember
he showed us a map and told us it had been drawn by this Schwabe.
He knew Schwabe’s family in Germany, and they had given it to him.
The police here must have sent Schwabe’s belongings to them after
he died. My husband and I had just settled here, and neither of us
could make anything of it. Seeing the map again jogged my memory,
and I remembered the arrows pointing at the hills. I’m pretty sure
it was the same map that Haake had.” She shook her head. “I know
you’ll laugh at me, Detective, but I think that map is
unlucky.”

“Why do you say it’s unlucky?” Lerako was intrigued.

“Well, Schwabe was supposed to have drawn the map, and he died
in the desert. The rangers from the Kalahari Gemsbok Park in South
Africa followed his car tracks and found it abandoned. Not long
after that, they found Schwabe himself dead of exposure out in the
desert. They buried him there; you can still see his grave.”

She waited a moment while Lerako digested that story. Then she
continued: “Herman died too. That’s why I remember the incident so
well. It was shortly after he was here. He went up towards
Mabuasehube. Some tourists found him at his camp. He was in a coma.
They got him to hospital, but he never regained consciousness. So
they could never ask him how it happened. The autopsy indicated he
had died from some plant poison or other. There was talk that the
Bushmen killed him. But why would they do such a thing? Probably he
ate something he shouldn’t have.

“I don’t know how Haake got the map after that. Maybe there was
an auction of Herman’s belongings – he told me he didn’t have any
family. Anyway, it seems to find its way to these prospectors with
a fixation on fields of diamonds.”

“Did you warn him?”

“Haake? I told him to be careful. That the areas he was
exploring are remote, the most isolated parts of the Kalahari. It
could be dangerous.”

“And how did he react?”

“He was polite, but basically told me to mind my own business
and that he knew what he was doing.”

“Do you think he would kill someone who tried to stop this
search of his, or to keep it secret?”

Jill thought about that for a while. At last she said, “I don’t
think he’s a bad man, Detective, but I think it’s possible. He has
a filthy temper if you cross him.”

They talked a little more, but Lerako learnt nothing further.
Haake had stayed for two weeks. He would sleep on a mattress on the
concrete walkway that ran in front of the small block of rental
units, finding it too hot inside the rooms. He liked the communal
braai
dinners, but kept to himself if there were guests he
didn’t know. And he disappeared off on day trips, but Jill didn’t
know where he had gone, except for the day he went to the mine
site.

Lerako readied himself to leave, but on a sudden impulse he
asked, “Mma Jill, did you know Tawana Monzo from Mabuasehube?”

She nodded. “Of course. It was awful about his accident.”

Lerako sat back. “How come you knew him?”

“Well, sometimes he met people who spent a few days here. Took
them on the next section of their trip. I suppose it was an
arrangement with the game reserve.”

“Was this often?”

“From time to time. Over a few years.”

Lerako rubbed his chin. So, he had confirmation of Tau’s
discovery. “We think it might not have been an accident,” he said
mildly.

Jill nodded. “I heard a rumour. Of a fight or something. Well,
Monzo had a nasty temper too, as bad as Haake. Funny that they
seemed to get on together.”

Lerako had to ask her to repeat the last sentence. Then he said,
“You mean they knew each other?”

“Monzo joined Haake the day he left. I think they were going off
to explore some area together. Obviously Monzo had a much better
knowledge of the Kalahari than I have.”

“Please tell me exactly what happened. It could be
important.”

“Well, the day Haake left, Monzo joined us at breakfast time. He
had driven from the game camp and hadn’t had much to eat, so I gave
him toast and marmalade while Haake had his omelette. They talked
about an area they meant to go to. Monzo said they could get there
in a couple of days, and Haake seemed quite excited. They had
second cups of coffee, then Haake paid, thanked me very nicely for
my help and trouble, and they left. That’s all there was to it, I’m
afraid.”

Lerako leant forward. “Did they look like old friends, or as
though they’d just met?”

“I think they’d met before. Haake recognised Monzo as soon as he
arrived. But they shook hands formally, not as though they were
good friends or anything.”

“Did you see either man again after that?”

She shook her head.

Lerako got to his feet. “Mma Jill, you’ve been a great help. And
the coffee was excellent, as always.”

“You’re welcome, Detective. Just don’t steal any of my camels on
your way out.” She laughed.

Lerako drove slowly back to the main road, his mind testing out
the new development of the link between Haake and Monzo. Two men
with hot tempers and things to hide.

He didn’t even notice a camel watching him superciliously from
the side of the road.


The Death of the Mantis

Twenty-Three

A
fter the previous
day’s gruelling drive back to Gabarone from Windhoek, Kubu came
into the office late on Friday. It was only that afternoon that he
heard what Lerako and Tau had discovered. Not only did the new
information linking Monzo and Haake support his view of the
murders, but he noticed a change in Lerako’s attitude also. Lerako
was coming round. The stone wall was crumbling.

And there was interesting news from Windhoek too.

He felt he had enough to take to Director Mabaku, and he wanted
to share the story. Perhaps Mabaku could enjoy a pleasant weekend
also.

The director was dealing with emails and paperwork. How does he
stand it? Kubu wondered. He must have three times the amount of
administrative stuff that comes across my desk.

Mabaku swung round and gave Kubu a dubious look. “I hope you
have something good to report for a change, Kubu.”

Kubu settled himself into a chair without invitation and nodded.
“I think we know what happened,” he said. “Not all the details. But
the outline. We can see the picture now.”

“Who’s ‘we’?”

“Lerako and me.”

“Lerako’s in agreement with this?”

“Ninety per cent, I’d say.” He hesitated and shrugged. “Eighty
at least.”

Mabaku leant back, looking more relaxed. “Let’s hear it.”

“It’s Haake. We believe he’s on a treasure hunt for the source
of the Namibian coastal diamonds. It seems to have become a
passion, perhaps an obsession. And he’s afraid of anyone stealing
his ideas. So when he discovered he was being followed on one of
his exploring trips, he took action.”

Kubu filled Mabaku in on Muller’s story of the theft of the
data, his hiring of the private investigator, Krige, and his recent
phone call from Haake. “Krige would’ve needed to keep quite close
to Haake, and we think that at some point Haake noticed him. That
night – if Ian’s right about the time of death – he doubled back,
crept up on Krige and killed him. He spent the night there, and in
the morning set up the fake shooting attack. The forensics people
found ammunition in Krige’s car, so we think he had a handgun with
him, which we never found. Probably Haake did find it and used it
to make it look as though another person shot at him. But his story
falls down because there was no trace of a third person there.
There were no footprints that we can’t link to either Haake or
Krige, and no sign of a third vehicle. The two of them must have
been alone out there. Once we discovered the connection between
them and understood what Haake was doing, we could see a motive. It
was all pretty obvious.”

Kubu paused and frowned. “The thing is, when I spoke to Haake,
he was quite convincing. His story hung together and was pretty
much what he told Tau. And, of course, he denied any knowledge of
Krige. I knew he was hiding something, perhaps that his visits to
Botswana had a more serious purpose than hobby trips. But nothing
set off an alarm in my head. There was one thing, though. He used
Krige’s name before I mentioned it. When I asked him how he knew
the name, he said he’d heard it on the radio. But he couldn’t tell
me where or when. The Namibian police have established that Krige’s
name did appear in the Windhoek newspaper on the Monday, but
there’d been no report on the radio. What’s more, when they showed
Haake’s picture to the caretaker at Krige’s apartment building, she
recognised him. On Thursday he came to the apartment building and
asked her if she knew when Mr Krige would be back. She told him
Krige was away on one of his cases. She knew Krige was a PI, so
Haake found that out and probably linked it to Muller. I’m sure
that led to the threatening call to Muller.”

Mabaku wanted to know more about Haake’s motivation, and Kubu
went over what they’d learnt about his project from Muller, Use and
Jill. At last the director appeared satisfied.

“It seems to make sense,” he said. “Certainly enough to grill
him and see what you can get.” He hesitated. “But what about
Monzo?”

Kubu described the deposits in Monro’s bank account and the
information from the Endabeni Guest House and Berrybush Farm.

“He was obviously moonlighting. But the most significant thing
Lerako discovered was that Haake and Monzo met up at Berrybush Farm
and went on a trip together. Monzo seems to have been a greedy
type. I’d guess he tried to muscle in on Haake’s plans – or even
his discovery, if he’d actually discovered something – and that
Haake decided to put a quick stop to that. So he came back on
another trip, kept out of sight, and killed Monzo with the rock,
hoping it would be taken as an accident.”

Mabaku thought this through. “How would he know where Monzo was
going to be that day?”

“Probably he set up a meeting. Lerako found one phone call to
the ranger station the afternoon before the murder that couldn’t be
traced. It was about the time Monzo took a call, and it came from a
public phone in Hukuntsi near the petrol station there. So Monzo
made up the story of sorting out the Bushmen and met Haake in the
desert. That’s when Haake made his move.”

“And what about the fake footprints?”

Kubu shrugged. “I don’t think they were fakes. Probably Haake
checked out the area before Monzo came.”

Mabaku shook his head. “It’s very thin, Kubu. All guesswork. All
you know is that the two of them went on a field trip together.
There’s no evidence they had a fight or indeed
any
contact
after that. Maybe Haake has an alibi. Maybe he wasn’t even in
Botswana on that day. You’d better check with immigration.”

Kubu had thought of this too. “Director, you’re absolutely
right. But you agree we have a strong case against Haake for the
Krige murder. How likely is it that there are two murderers running
around in the middle of the Kalahari at the same time? I’m pretty
sure that once we have Haake in custody, we’ll get to the bottom of
all this. He’ll be forced to admit to the Krige killing, and then
he’ll come clean on Monzo too.”

Mabaku nodded. He could accept that strategy, but there was one
flaw. “And where
is
Haake right now?”

Kubu wriggled uncomfortably in his chair. “It’s strange. We know
he crossed into Botswana on Tuesday. We should have him by now. He
had no reason to believe we were after him, nothing that would make
him run for it. But there’s no answer on his mobile phone. My guess
is that he’s on one of his trips, probably deep in the Kalahari
again and so out of contact.”

Mabaku looked doubtful. “I hope this isn’t another of your
vanishing suspects, Kubu. If I were you, I wouldn’t start
celebrating until Haake is safely behind bars.”

But Kubu was confident. “We’ve alerted the South African police,
Interpol, the lot. There’s nowhere for him to go, and I don’t think
he even knows we’re looking for him. In a day or so, he’s going to
drive into a town or approach a border post. And then we’ll have
him!”

BOOK: The Death of the Mantis
7.89Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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