The Second Death of Goodluck Tinubu (48 page)

“What have you got on them?”

“Well, not much directly. Dupie told me a nonsense story about
covering for Enoch the night he murdered Boardman, and I suppose
the implication of what took place this morning is that Enoch is
the culprit. But I don’t believe he did it on his own. I think all
three are in on it. Dupie’s latest piece of play acting was a
setup.”

Mabaku grunted. “Hold them as material witnesses. I don’t want
legal hassles to add to everything else now.”

“They’ll argue that they’re citizens in good standing and not
going anywhere. My suggestion is that I impound their passports and
leave them here with two of the constables to watch them. For their
own protection, that is. We still haven’t resolved the Madrid
issue.”

“Don’t remind me. And Edison’s come up with nothing more from
Beardy. Well, this will be a lesson to me. I can’t afford to get
sick and be away for two days.” He mulled Kubu’s proposal. “Yes, do
what you suggested. Once we catch Enoch, we’ll have him singing a
different tune. Then we can get Dupie and Salome to come and supply
the words.” There was an interruption, and Kubu could hear Mabaku’s
secretary tell him the commissioner was on the other line.

“Kubu, I’ve got to go. See if you can arrange things for the
rest of the day so that you don’t drown any of my detectives, don’t
start a war with Namibia, and don’t release a horde of murderers
into the community. Do you think you can handle that?”

Kubu said he thought he could, and the director hung up. Kubu
wondered why his careful moves – with real results in this case –
always seemed to come across as bumbling incompetence when
summarized by the director. But Mabaku was right about the
Na-mibians. He needed to call them.

♦

When Tau radioed in from the police launch, the news was mixed.
They had found the motorboat stuck on a sandbank in the river and,
indeed, it had run out of fuel. But there was no sign of Enoch.
Obviously he had rowed it to the shore and then pushed it out into
the current. So there was no indication of where he had landed, or
even on which side of the river. They were only about fifteen
minutes away, so Kubu told them to come in. There was no point in
them sitting on the river on the off-chance that the spotter plane
would find Enoch nearby. He would have gone to ground by now in any
case. However, Kubu’s plan had worked to the extent that there was
a relatively small area in which Enoch could be hiding, and he must
be relatively close.

Tau was back at the camp by the time the spotter plane arrived.
There was a side benefit; it was a six seater with four people in
it. When it went back to Kasane, Kubu and Tatwa could get a ride,
saving the four-hour drive in the Land Rover. Kubu relayed the
information on where the boat had been found, so the plane had a
reasonably well-defined area to search.

Tatwa joined Kubu to wave as the plane flew low over the camp.
He was looking better, dry, in clean clothes, and thankful for the
large neat whisky that had started a bout of coughing, expelling
most of the river still in his lungs.

“I spoke to the director, Tatwa, and he said we should leave the
manhunt to the local police. You’ve got to tidy up the Gonjwe case,
and I need to move the Madrid business forward. Let’s get packed
up. We’re going home.” As Kubu expected, Tatwa made no
objection.

Kubu made the situation clear to Dupie and Salome and the staff.
They were all material witnesses, and there would be more questions
once Enoch had been caught and had told his side of the story. They
were to stay in touch by phone, make no trips off the island
without letting Tatwa know, and in any case no trips out of
Botswana. To emphasize the last point, Kubu took their passports,
and two of the constables would remain on the island.

Dupie laughed at that. “How long does this charade go on? We
have a business here you know. Lives to lead. Enoch’s a bush man.
You may never find him out there.” Dupie gave a broad wave
encompassing Africa.

Kubu was not in the mood for banter. “It goes on until I say it
stops.” He looked at Tatwa. “We better get going. I expect the
plane will be finished its search in an hour or so.” Then he
hesitated, not sure how to address the others.

“Thank you for your cooperation,” he said at last, brusquely,
and turned away.

♦

Reaching the mainland felt like a release. Jackalberry Camp had
become a prison, haunted by death. While Tau organized the luggage,
Kubu and Tatwa took a last look around. “What did you find in that
shed?” asked Tatwa, pointing to it.

“Just tools for the vehicles and the boat. Looks like Dupie does
a lot of his own maintenance. Oil changes and the like. Stuff to
fix tires also. I guess they get a lot of punctures from the acacia
thorns in the bush…” His voice faded away, his mind following a
lateral thought. Suddenly he grabbed Tatwa’s arm. “The tires,
Tatwa, they change the tires!”

Tatwa frowned. “Well, every car has a jack and stuff to change a
wheel.”

“Not the wheel, the tire. They’ve got tire irons to get it off
the rim and inner tubes to reinflate it once they’ve fixed the
hole. But once the tire’s off…”

“You could put stuff in it!” Tatwa joined in. “Stuff like money.
Were there any wheels in the shed?”

Kubu hesitated, then shook his head. “I remember a dented rim
and a tire, but not a tire on a rim. But it could be one of the
spares on the vehicles.”

“The one you have to crank down under the Double Cab? That’s the
best hidden.” Tatwa’s heart sank. Getting at that wheel was a lot
of work. But Kubu shook his head. “That vehicle has only the one
spare. They wouldn’t risk driving on a million dollars. It’ll be
one of the Land Rover spares. My guess would be the one on the back
door. I wouldn’t put it on the hood over the hot engine, would
you?” Tatwa shook his head, but Kubu was already walking toward the
Land Rover.

Now they were faced with another problem. How could they tell if
the tire was a disguised bank box? Tatwa had an idea. He found a
twig, jammed it in the tire valve, and was rewarded by a satisfying
hiss of escaping air. Having tied up the boat and loaded the
luggage, Tau joined them, puzzled by why his superiors were
sabotaging Dup-ie’s vehicle. If the idea was to stop him escaping,
it seemed to Tau that letting down one of the tires on the ground
might be smarter.

Sooner than expected, the air in the tire stopped hissing
out.

“It was pumped up just enough to keep everything in place,” Kubu
said, tensely. He felt the tire, but it remained hard and still
firmly on the rim. “Damn! Get it off the door, Tau. Use the tools
from the police Landy.”

Dutifully, Tau found the wheel spanner and spun off the nuts. He
and Tatwa lifted the tire onto the ground.

“Now what?” Tatwa asked. But Kubu already had the wheel on its
edge and slowly rolled it over the ground. They heard something
shifting around inside.

Kubu turned to Tatwa, triumphant. “Get on the radio and tell the
plane to wait. We’re going to have something pretty spectacular to
take back to Kasane. Much more interesting than Enoch’s backpack
stuffed with old newspapers or whatever.

“Tau, take the boat back to the camp and fetch Dupie and one of
the other constables. Tell Dupie to bring the keys to the shed.
Tell him we need to look inside there again.”

But Dupie had been watching them from the lookout through
binoculars. He sighed. He had come so close. But it seemed that his
last roll of the dice had come up snake eyes.

♦

Dupie watched in disgust as the constables battled with the tire
irons. “You’ll wreck the wheel if you’re not careful,” he
complained. “What the hell is this all about anyway?” But it was
obvious what the hell it was all about when they finally got the
rim free. Kubu pulled out the flat inner tube, shook out the tire,
and flooded the sand with money. The notes were wrapped into
packets in thin plastic. Kubu picked one up, pulled off the
wrapping, and flipped through the stack of one hundred dollar bills
with his thumb. Then he counted the packets. Their earlier
speculation of half a million dollars looked close.

“Shit!” said Dupie. “That’s where he hid the money, hey?” Kubu
looked at him inquiringly. “Enoch!” said Dupie in an unconvincing
reply to the unasked question. Kubu ignored that.

“Morne du Pisanie, I am arresting you in connection with the
murders of Goodluck Tinubu, Peter Jabulani (also known as Ish-mael
Zondo), Sipho Langa, and William Boardman. You are not required to
say anything at the moment, but take note that anything you do or
say will be recorded and may be used in a court of law. Do you
understand what I have told you?”

Dupie said he did, while Tau handcuffed him and searched him for
weapons. A good idea, Kubu thought.

“I’ll need some things,” said Dupie. “Till you catch Enoch, and
this is all cleared up.”

Kubu nodded. “Tatwa, take Dupie back to Jackalberry. Arrest
Salome too and then get them to Kasane. Leave one of the constables
at the camp to keep an eye on Moremi and Solomon in case we were
wrong about them. I’m going to take the money and catch that plane.
If I hurry, I can still get back to Gaborone today. Tau can drive
us to the airstrip. Okay?” Tatwa nodded. He, too, was high on the
mixture of triumph and excitement. He headed back to the police
launch.

Kubu searched for something to hold the money. There was the
boat tarpaulin, but it was much too big. He needed to catch the
plane! At last he grabbed Tatwa’s backpack and emptied its contents
onto the backseat, rescuing a couple of T–shirts that ended on the
dusty floor. Then Kubu and Tau stuffed the money into the backpack,
dumped Tatwa’s clothes on the tarpaulin, scrambled into the
vehicle, and took off. They made a fine pace over the bumpy road,
as a few items of Tatwa’s underwear they had missed escaped into
the African bush.

∨
The Second Death of Goodluck Tinubu
∧

ONE MAY FALL

One may fall, but he falls by himself,

Falls by himself with himself to blame.

—
RUDYARD KIPLING, ‘THE STORY OF THE
GADSBYS’

∨
The Second Death of Goodluck Tinubu
∧

B
y the time Kubu
landed at Gaborone, he was tired but content. The money was safely
locked away at the police station in Kasane, Dupie and Salome were
being held there, and Tatwa was keeping a close watch on them.
Enoch had survived the day, but could not remain at large for long,
now that they knew pretty well where he was. Best of all, Joy would
be waiting to meet him at the airport. So he grabbed his luggage
and looked around for her, his mind on a delicious dinner with good
wine, and a beautiful woman before, during, and after. When he saw
her, he dropped his case, folded her in his comfortable bulk and
lifted her off the ground, and kissed her with the passion of
absence.

“Oh, Kubu, put me down! Everyone’s watching! You’re embarrassing
me!” she said through her laughter. Indeed, many travelers glanced
at them, the bored expressions of business travel replaced with
smiles.

“My darling, I’ve missed you and been worried sick about you,
but now we are back together and everything is fine.” Kubu
confirmed this remark with another kiss, this time with all feet on
the ground.

“Oh Kubu, you got them? Solved the case?” Joy was
breathless.

“Well, I know who did what and how. One suspect is still at
large, but the others are in custody. We’ll have it all wrapped up
in no time. And after this I’m not budging from Gaborone.” He
picked up his bag and headed for the exit with his arm around her
shoulders.

“Will Pleasant and I have to testify? Identify the
suspects?”

Suddenly Kubu realized that they were talking about two
different cases. “Well, we haven’t got that lot yet. This was the
Jackalberry Camp murder case.” Seeing her disappointment, he rushed
on. “But it’s all linked. We’ve got the money that the kidnappers
were after, and it will be all over the newspapers tomorrow. They
won’t dare set foot in Botswana again. And Beardy is going to tell
us everything we want to know. He’s just looking for a deal.”

But Joy was not consoled. “Kubu, I’m so tired of worrying about
myself and Pleasant. I wish you could catch these people. I think
they might try again. We’re scared.”

“My darling, I had to go to Jackalberry to solve this case, but
it’s done and I’m staying right here. The whole thing is just about
wrapped up! There’s absolutely nothing to worry about.” He sounded
much more cheerful and confident than he actually felt. He leaned
over for another peck, and Joy responded before quickly turning
away, but not before he had seen the wetness in her eyes.

When they reached the car, it was shaking from Ilia’s jumping
and barking. She was trying to squeeze herself through the two-inch
gap at the top of the window that Joy had left open for fresh air.
There was nothing for it but to open the door and let her dive into
Kubu’s arms and do a complete lick and polish of his face.

“You’re impossible, Ilia. You’re so badly behaved. But I love
you. Now get back into the car so we can go home. I very much hope
that your mother has a fine dinner waiting for both of us.”
Eventually they managed to get Ilia sufficiently under control to
get the doors closed and the trip home underway.

“How have you been feeling, my love?” asked Kubu, realizing he
was on shaky ground.

“Oh, much better. I’ll be fine now that you’re back. It was all
just the stress and worry.”

“Is that what Dr. Diklekeng said?”

Joy shook her head. “I’m so much better I didn’t want to waste
his time. Anyway, let’s talk about something else. I’ve made a
delicious curry, and I’ve put a bottle of gewürztraminer in the
fridge. See? I’m learning which wines go with what. And Ilia can
have the sauce over her dog biscuits. She’ll love that. And then we
can have a nice quiet evening together. Quiet until a bit later on
that is.” She gave him a naughty smile, her good humor apparently
restored. Kubu marveled at how neatly she had changed the subject.
He could already smell the spices, taste the fruity richness of the
wine, and feel the touch of her soft hands on his body. He must
stop nagging her. All would be well.