Authors: A. J. Quinnell
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Action & Adventure, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Thriller & Suspense, #Thrillers & Suspense, #Crime, #Murder, #Thriller, #Thrillers
"Yes,
although with some reluctance. Under such circumstances, in a murder
investigation, no policeman likes a bunch of outsiders interfering."
"What
about the firearms permits?" Maxie asked.
The
Ambassador's smile was a little grim.
"That
too," he said. "But it took a lot of persuasion." He glanced
again at Creasy. "Are you still an American citizen, Mr Creasy?"
"No.
Like many Foreign Legionaries, I took out French citizenship after my first
five-year stint."
"I'm
pleased to hear that. As American Ambassador here, I'd prefer not to have armed
American mercenaries roaming the country, even if they do have police
permission. What about your son?"
"I
have a Maltese passport," Michael answered.
Maxie
chipped in. "And I exchanged my Rhodesian passport for a British one after
Independence."
The
Ambassador was looking positively pleased. He turned again to Gloria. "Mrs
Manners, I would have liked to invite you to the residency for dinner, but I
understand that you're only staying for one night. And, unfortunately, tonight
I have to attend an official function. What are your plans from tomorrow?"
Creasy
answered the question. "Tomorrow, Mrs Manners, myself and Mr MacDonald,
fly to Bulawayo. We stay only briefly to take delivery of the weapons and then
fly on to Victoria Falls, where Mrs Manners and her nurse will stay at the
Azambezi Lodge Hotel. Mr MacDonald and I will go into the bush and take a look
around the murder site."
"And
your son?"
Again,
Michael answered for himself. "I'll be staying on in Harare for a few
days. I've been very busy lately. I could use a little time off, especially the
evenings."
The
Ambassador nodded thoughtfully and said, "There's a surprisingly wide and
varied nightlife in Harare, but I suggest you stay away from the clubs in the
townships. They can be a bit dangerous. There's so much unemployment in the
country, the crime rate in the cities is soaring."
"Thank
you," Michael said. "I'll keep that in mind."
The
Ambassador stood up, saying, "But phone me at the Embassy, if you need
anything." He turned to look down at Gloria. "Mrs Manners, that also
applies, of course, to you. If you run into any problems or need any
assistance, don't hesitate to phone me. I know the reason for your visit here
is not a happy one, but I hope you'll be able to relax a little at Victoria
Falls. The Azambezi Lodge is a wonderful hotel and very peaceful." He
looked at his watch. "Commander John Ndlovu will be here in a few minutes,
so I'll leave you to it." He reached down and shook her hand.
She
gave him a rare smile. He did not shake the hands of the three men, but gave
them all an appraising stare and then said, "Good luck, gentlemen."
As the
door closed behind him, Gloria looked at Creasy and, with an edge of triumph in
her voice, said, "So you see, Creasy, I do have a magic wand. He was
extremely courteous and helpful."
Creasy
grunted to himself and then said, "He was courteous and helpful because
he's a Foreign Service Career Officer and not a Presidential Appointee. Jim
Grainger is a very powerful Senator who sits on the House Foreign Service
Committee. The Ambassador had a phone-call from the Senator, which is why he's
being so sweet. Anyway, the result was satisfactory. Without those weapons
permits, we would have had to carry our guns illegally and that could have
caused problems."
Before
she could say anything, a soft tap came on the door. Creasy stood up, walked
over and opened it.
John
Ndlovu was a tall thick-set ebony African. He was dressed in an extremely smart
suit, with a white shirt and some kind of regimental tie. His black shoes had a
mirror-like polish. The two men looked at each other for a long time and then
Creasy said, "Of course, I've seen your photograph and would recognise
your face anywhere."
The
African nodded.
"And
once I had you in the sights of my rifle," he said. "It was a very
long shot, and I decided to get closer. It was a mistake. You got away and,
later that night, killed four of my men."
"It
was a war."
The
African held out his hand, saying, "Yes, it was a war. It's good that we
can meet now and have a drink, instead of shooting at each other."
Creasy
took the proffered hand and shook it warmly. Then he ushered the policeman into
the room and introduced him to Gloria and the others. After shaking hands, John
Ndlovu looked at Maxie MacDonald and said, "Another name out of the past.
Have you been back to this country since Independence?"
"No.
I decided to stay away for a while and let things cool down."
The
African gave him a half-smile. "It was a wise decision at the time, for a
Selous Scout...but there is no acrimony now."
Creasy
had moved to the drinks cabinet in the corner of the room.
"What
can I get you?" he asked.
The
policeman accepted a scotch and water and then told Gloria of his regret that
his force had not been able to track down her daughter's killers. He assured
her that they had made extraordinary efforts and would continue to do so. Such
a murder case had become rare in Zimbabwe in recent years. There was no obvious
motive. Unfortunately, the rain had washed away all signs of tracks. In spite
of that, he had borrowed four expert trackers from the anti-poaching
department. After a week, he had had to return them, but by that time, it was
clear that there was nothing to find. He could think of no political motive and
there had been no robbery. He expressed his regret again and his condolences.
"I
understand the situation," Gloria said. "I've read your report and
I've no doubt that you've made every effort. But you'll understand a mother's
feelings. I hope you don't mind that I've brought these men down here?"
He
shrugged. "I've been asked by my Minister to give you and them, my
cooperation. Of course, I would have objected if you had brought in a bunch of
ordinary mercenaries. Some of them are nothing more than thugs, but Creasy and
Maxie MacDonald are not exactly ordinary. I know from experience that they're
both experts at tracking in the bush and living off the land. If there's any
chance of finding something out there, which my men may have missed, then they
are the men for the job. Naturally I've studied Maxie MacDonald's file these
past days. He speaks fluent Ndebele and some of the tribal languages of the
area. That's an advantage." He turned to Creasy. "When will you go
into the bush?"
"How
do you know we are going into the bush?"
The
policeman smiled. He said, "You didn't come here to go fishing on the
lake." He gestured at Michael. "Does this young man know anything
about the African bush?"
"It's
his first time in Africa," Creasy answered. "He'll be staying in
Harare for a few days to unwind a bit. He'll join up at the Falls with us
later."
The
policeman reached into the top pocket of his jacket, pulled out a card and
handed it to Michael, saying, "If you run into any trouble, phone
me."
Michael
thanked him and tucked the card away. Then, from the inside of his jacket
pocket, John Ndlovu pulled out a sheaf of papers and gave it to Creasy.
"Those are the temporary firearms permits. I'd be grateful if you didn't
carry those weapons in view when you're in an urban area. The permits are good
for thirty days. After that, I have permission to extend them, depending on the
circumstances."
Creasy
handed the papers to Maxie, who flicked through them and then nodded. Creasy
said to the African, "Thirty days should be more than enough. Either we
will have come across something, or we'll be out of the country."
"I
assumed so," the policeman said. His voice took on an edge of authority.
"I expect you to keep in touch with me and inform me of any developments,
and to keep in mind, at all times, that you're on my territory. Those weapons
are only to be used in self-defence. Just remember that if you make progress,
there'll be no summary justice."
"I
understand," Creasy answered. "We're just going looking nothing
else."
Abruptly,
Commander John Ndlovu turned to Maxie MacDonald and began speaking to him
rapidly in a language the others could not understand. Creasy recognised it as
Ndebele. Maxie began to nod slowly, never taking his eyes off the African's
face. Finally, the African produced yet another piece of paper and passed it to
Maxie. Maxie studied it carefully and then nodded again, folded the paper and
tucked it into his back pocket.
The
policeman turned to Gloria and reverted to English. "Mrs Manners, I
sincerely hope that your men will succeed where we have, so far, failed."
He reached down and shook her hand, and then shook hands with the others. At
the door, he turned and said to her, "If I can be of any help at all,
don't hesitate to contact me." He gave her a wry smile. "Or, of
course, contact your Ambassador. That man seems to be able to get things done
around here."
As soon
as the door had closed behind him, Gloria looked at Maxie and said impatiently
"What were you talking about in that language?"
Maxie
looked at Creasy and said, "We were talking about two things. Ndlovu
suggested that when we go into the bush, we take some sovereigns or gold
krugerrands with us. Especially the latter. The police are not allowed to offer
rewards to informers, but we have no constraints. It's a very poor area of the
country. Ndlovu also pointed out that it's illegal to import gold into the
country without a licence, and he doesn't want to know anything about it."
Gloria
said, "So how the hell do we bring in sovereigns or krugerrands?"
Creasy
and Maxie glanced at each other and then Creasy tapped his metal-studded belt
and said, "People like us never travel without a few gold coins. The metal
studs disguise them from the airport scanners. We have enough to bribe a couple
of villages up there."
Gloria
said, "And the other thing you discussed?"
Maxie
hesitated and then pulled out the piece of paper and handed it to Creasy.
Creasy unfolded it, read the official words and smiled slightly.
"Well?"
Gloria snapped.
Creasy
looked at Maxie and then said to her, "It seems that sometimes there is
summary justice in Zimbabwe. This is addressed to Maxie. Being an ex-Selous
Scout, he was an ex-member of the Rhodesian Armed Forces. After the war, those
armed forces were merged with the guerilla forces. Technically, Maxie never
resigned, nor was discharged. He just disappeared over the border. This piece
of paper, signed by the Minister of Wildlife and Tourism, is both an order and
a permit. If, in the bush, we come across any rhino or elephant poachers, Maxie
is to shoot them on sight. If he comes over any tracks which indicate that poachers
have been in the area within the past forty-eight hours, he is to follow those
tracks for a minimum of seventy-two hours or until such time that the spoor
indicates the poachers have crossed back into Zambia."
"What
the hell's going on?" Gloria asked. "I mean, who's paying you
guys?"
Creasy
passed the paper back to Maxie and said to her, "It's very unlikely that
we'll come across any poachers in the area -- it's mostly been poached out. And
anyway, solving this murder takes priority over everything else."
Maxie
nodded. "That's true," he said. "But if we do come across any of
those bastards, it will be my pleasure to shoot them."
"The funeral is tomorrow."
"What time?"
"Four o'clock, in the afternoon."
"I'll be there."
Inspector Lau sighed. He looked down at Lucy Kwok in the hospital bed and said,
"Miss Kwok, I just spoke to your doctor. He wants you to stay here for at
least another three or four days. The wound is not serious, but you lost a lot
of blood and there is the shock factor."
She shook her head.
"Forget about the shock factor. I'm becoming immune to shocks. As for the blood, they
gave me a massive transfusion as soon as I got here and another one this
morning. I'm going to be at Colin's funeral."
Inspector Lau saw the determination in the woman's eyes and nodded.
"I'd be grateful," Lucy said. "If you could send a police car to pick me
up, at three o'clock."
"I'll pick you up myself, and bring you back here after the funeral."
She shook her head. "After the funeral, I'll be going to the airport."
"Where are you going?"
"To Zimbabwe. There's a flight to London and I'll connect from there to Harare."
"You should rest a few more days, but I think your decision to leave Hong Kong is a wise one."
At once, he saw the anger in her eyes and heard it in her voice.
"I'm not running away from Tommy Mo and 14K. I agreed with Colin that I would go to
Zimbabwe and try to find the link between the murders there and those of my
family. Colin was sure there's a link and it may lead to Tommy Mo. Has there
been any other word from the Zimbabwe Police?"
"Yes. There was a fax this morning. Mrs Manners arrived by private jet yesterday with
the three mercenaries. Commander John Ndlovu has promised to keep me informed."
She gestured at the phone beside the bed. "I'll make my flight arrangements
this afternoon and then phone you. I'd be grateful if you'd fax Ndlovu and give
him my arrival time."
"I'll do that. Shall I ask him to book you a hotel?"
"No, the airline will do that. Being a stewardess, I get huge discounts."
The Inspector walked across the room and looked out of the window. They were in the
Matilda Hospital, high on the Peak. He was looking down at the high-rises of
Victoria and beyond them, Kowloon. The faint hum and buzz of one of the busiest
cities in the world drifted up. He turned to her and said, "Colin was my
friend. He never said very much, but I understood him. I think, during the time
that you worked with him on your father's files, he became very fond of you."