Treasure of the Golden Cheetah (28 page)

“I understand you have a plane,” said Bertram.

“Yes,” said Sam. “A Curtiss JN-4, a Jenny.”

Beverly’s majordomo, Farhani, stood in the doorway leading to the dining room. Dressed all in white, he added a touch of elegance to the room. “
Mpishi
says that dinner is ready, memsahib.”

“Thank you, Farhani,” said Beverly. “If everyone will please follow him into the dining room, we may begin dinner.”

Sam watched the others go in before him, noting Major Bertram rolling his eyes and spreading his hands when Colridge insisted on sitting between Madeline and Neville so he could expound on his knowledge of machinery to both of them. He saw Beverly’s graceful response, a sweet smile, and noted Avery’s broad grin.

Why the devil am I here?
Sam thought, and immediately wondered if he meant just at this dinner party or in Kenya in general.

Madeline came to everyone’s rescue during dinner by engaging Lord Colridge in conversation. Essentially this meant he talked and she listened, adding copious smiles of encouragement sprinkled with intelligent questions. With the old settler so happily occupied on one side, the others were able to listen to Major Bertram describe his travels across Egypt, up the Blue Nile, and eventually into Abyssinia.

“Wild country,” Bertram summarized as they waited for their dessert. “The outlying tribes are terribly fierce. Ruled by chieftains or warlords or whatever you wish to call them. They answer only to themselves and the regent. I carried a special pass from Empress Zewditu countersigned by her cousin, the Regent Ras Tafari Makonnen. Even then, there were times I was held a virtual prisoner until they felt I was no threat or, more likely, had nothing of value to steal.”

Farhani distributed glass dishes filled with a pudding laced with chunks of fresh mango and pawpaw. Bertram took a taste and smiled at Beverly to express his enjoyment. “It is certainly good to be back in a land with decent, law-abiding citizens and a sane government.”

“Don’t be too certain, Tony,” said Avery. “I mean about the law-abiding citizens.”

“Indeed,” added Neville, “not but a week ago we had a brutal murder and suicide just outside of the city by the Muthaiga Club.”

“The Muthaiga? It’s a good job that you didn’t make me stay there, Avery. I’d have wondered about our friendship. Tell me about it.”

Sam listened while Neville and Avery described Wheeler’s stabbing and the eventual suicide of the attacker.

“As I understand it,” said Neville, “the police haven’t identified the man yet.”

“I thought all the natives were required to carry documents now,” said Bertram. “Wear them around the neck.”

“Their
kipande
, yes,” said Avery. “This man had none.”

“But the inspector has sent photographs to the outlying areas,” said Sam. “I think they assume he was a drifter and someone in Mombassa or elsewhere might recognize him. I have one myself. Mathews gave a copy to me this morning.”

“Sam!” said Beverly. “Whatever do you plan to do with it?”

He shrugged. “Show it around to some of the natives who work at the Muthaiga, perhaps. No one seems to ask them, but they’re more likely than a white man to have seen him.”

“May I see it?” asked Bertram. He cast a sheepish grin at Beverly. “I suppose that sounds macabre, doesn’t it, but I’m rather curious to see what a Nairobi murderer looks like. Sort of a student of physiognomy, you see.”

Sam excused himself and fetched the envelope with the photos he’d developed that day. Included was the print from Dr. Mathews. He pulled out all the pictures, and found that picture at the back. Before he could hand it to the major, Lord Colridge snatched it from his hand.

“I know this fellow. Why didn’t that fool inspector ask me?”

CHAPTER 17

—The Traveler

A PALPABLE RELIEF SWEPT OVER THE CAMP. JADE WAS BACK, AND IT seemed that there’d be no reprisals. More than one, “That was close,” was exchanged. Jade had headed for the bath tent, taking a bucket of warm water with her, and quickly attempted to wash away more than grime. The cold chill still clung to her.

When she was done, she gave her rifle a thorough going-over and couldn’t find anything wrong with it. She didn’t understand it, and Jelani’s silence and knowing looks unnerved her as well. What she regretted was that she hadn’t had time to thoroughly inspect Rehema’s bag again. For that she wanted complete privacy, which meant by lamplight in her tent tonight. Only then would she reveal her full findings to Harry. She looked for him and found him by the washbasin.

Harry dried his hands on a towel and held Jade’s gaze for a few seconds, silently expressing not only his relief, but also his admiration.

“Excepting the leopard
shauri
, that was well-done,” he said finally. “What made you think of taking Biscuit with you to the village?”

“I saw how the Chagga had watched him,” she said. “Almost reverently. I think old Sina’s saga affected them more than it did our esteemed director.” She took a deep breath, and released it, willing her tension to go with it. “I hoped they might see him as some sort of omen and accept the death as something bigger than any of us.”

“Just the same,” said Harry, “I think precautions are in order. Nakuru,” he called. The headman joined him, silently awaiting orders. Harry clapped him on the shoulder. “Double the guard tonight, just to be on the safe side. Be especially wary right before dawn. Sorry, Jade,” he said after Nakuru left to inform the other men. “I know tomorrow’s Sunday, but you’re going to have to stay here with us instead of traipsing off to the mission in the morning. I need all my eyes and hands in camp.”

Jade nodded. “I understand. I’ll take the dawn watch if you like.”

“Good. We’ll take it together. I don’t expect anything, but I don’t want to take chances.” Muturi rang the dinner gong and they joined the actors and crew in line.

“What happened, Harry?” asked Jade as they hung back at the line’s end. What with one demand or another on her time, it was the first opportunity she’d had to discuss today’s horrid tragedy. “It was Miss Porter’s shot that killed Zakayo. Everyone was supposed to have blanks.”

“They were. Homerman had small boxes for each person. I even test-fired one out of each box earlier to be sure. All I can think is that some of my ammunition accidentally got mixed in.”

Jade frowned. “It wouldn’t be your ammunition, Harry. They’re all firing American-made rifles, mostly Remingtons.”

“That’s right. What was Cynthia firing?” asked Harry.

“A Winchester .30-40.”

“Then did some of your ammunition get in there?”

Jade shook her head. “Mine is .303 British.” She remembered McAvy and Murdock coming up the trail after Harry’s rescue. They’d had Winchesters with them, and surely they hadn’t loaded them with blanks. She said as much to Harry. “You saw their crates. Did they plan on doing any hunting? Would some of their own rounds have gotten mixed in?”

Harry shrugged and suddenly looked every bit of his forty-plus years. “There was no hunting planned except for game that you or I shot. They have no permits. I didn’t . . .” He let his words dangle. Jade knew he hadn’t searched every crate, every personal item. Who would? “So either someone back in their movie studio made a mistake or one of them mixed their own ammunition with the blanks,” Harry concluded.

And if the latter, was it an accident? Too many coincidences!
A movement caught her eye and she suddenly saw a two-horned chameleon resting on a window ledge. It blended so well that only the snap of its tongue for a fat millipede gave it away. It’d chosen its spot well, planned and executed its ambush perfectly. Jade watched it, her mind busily reviewing events.

“Harry, don’t you find it odd that Zakayo was killed? The person we both wanted to talk to about the boomslang?”

“It could have been any of the Chagga,” Harry countered. “Zakayo just happened to be the one by Cynthia’s tent. And she happened to have the box with live rounds.”

Jade sighed. Sam would have known what she meant. Sam
had
suspected already but, like Harry, she’d been too dense or bullheaded to listen. Now, in light of the past incidents and near accidents, she suddenly saw the truth, just as a movement suddenly revealed the reptile that might have been on the ledge since their arrival. Someone in this camp was a murderer.

“Harry, I know you don’t believe me, but just think about it. You agreed that the snake had to be placed in that box by someone.”

“Yes, by that crazy Rehema. Hell, we know that fact because she died from what certainly sounds like a boomslang bite. We just wanted to ask Zakayo if he saw her in camp with that bag. To put a lid on the case.”

“No, Harry. To see if she gave the bag to someone here. Julian, Homerman, Miss Porter.”

“Well,
not
Cynthia,” Harry protested. “That makes no sense. She’s the producer, for cripes’ sake. She’s got money invested in this bloody enterprise.”

“Then someone else,” said Jade. “Whoever it was made sure we couldn’t talk to Zakayo.”

“Very well. Then Julian’s your man. He’s the one who put Zakayo in that spot.”

“Have you learned anything else from the actors?” asked Jade.

“No. Homerman says he took care of loading the rifles. Cynthia’s about done-in with guilt even though she only fired the shot. I’ll talk with her more later, see if I can learn anything. Right now Bebe won’t even speak to me beyond a curt hello, and Wells has turned into some kind of gloomy Gus and won’t talk either.”

Jelani filled their plates, and Harry insisted Jade join the others to eat. Jade had very little appetite, but she knew she had to keep an eye on the actors. Besides, it might be a chance to pick up some information. She watched Cynthia make a beeline for Harry, while McAvy and Hall sat on opposite sides of Pearl. Bebe returned from the privy, took a plate, and, ignoring Wells’ call to her, joined the director and the cameramen. Jade chose a seat with the poker-playing group of Murdock, Talmadge, and Wells, who had already made a place for Lwiza.

“Evening, gentlemen, Lwiza,” Jade said as she sat down. She forced a smile, especially at Lwiza. Jade’s mood was being carefully watched after the day’s events. It wouldn’t take much, she realized, to get everyone’s nerves in a frazzle again. “You can all relax,” she said. “We’re in no danger. The Chagga aren’t going to attack.”

“What was all that ruckus before?” asked Wells. “When Harry suddenly lit out of camp with that stowaway kid. Who is he anyway?”

“Jelani is my friend,” explained Jade. “He’s a Kikuyu healer. I’ve known him since I first came to Africa. As to the ruckus . . .” She paused to consider how much she should tell them. “There was a leopard along the trail. Jelani must have seen its spoor.” Facing four perplexed faces, she explained. “Signs. Paw prints, droppings, claw marks on a tree trunk. Knowing I was alone with Biscuit, he decided I needed a man’s protection and went back to get it.”

The three men and Lwiza accepted her explanation and devoted more of their attention to the roasted pork in front of them. “Being on safari has one thing going for it,” said Talmadge. “The chow is great. I don’t eat this well when I’m back at the studio.”

“That’s because you have to do your own cooking then,” said Wells. “Fried bologna gets a little old after a while.”

“What did you eat when you went with Mr. Wheeler to Abyssinia?” asked Jade.

“Oh, we didn’t go on that trip,” said Murdock. “Never even heard of the place until I got hired for this picture.”

“You’re joking,” said Jade as she buttered a slab of flatbread. “Didn’t
any
of you go? Doesn’t that have something to do with getting into your roles?”

“I’m just a stuntman and a glorified extra,” said Talmadge. “Remember? I’m the man in the scene when they need another man in the scene. Or the one who takes the dive for a star.”

“Hall and I are the only two who really needed to know anything about this emperor stuff,” said Murdock. “Graham just made us read all his notes and study every photo he took.”

“You actually read all that bunk?” asked Wells. “I couldn’t make it past the history, much less the native customs. Not that Rex hasn’t told us enough. All I ever hear from him is bunk about gold and jewels.”

“What about the ladies?” asked Jade. “I’d have thought some of them would need to know some of the history.”

Murdock shrugged. “Well, maybe Cynthia. Her character is mainly the understanding wife. But I’m sure Graham made all of them read the same stuff he gave me.”

“Do you still have those notes with you?” Jade asked.

“Yeah, maybe. Wait. I might have left them back in Nairobi with the rest of my personal belongings that I didn’t need out here. You know, dress clothes, good shoes.”

Talmadge nodded towards Lwiza, who’d sat quietly eating her meal with dainty manners. “Miss Lwiza has been a big help to some of us. She’s the one who showed me a good way to hold my spear at attention when I had to play Menelik’s general.”