The Leopard's Prey (33 page)

She walked beside Sam as he approached his beloved Jenny and gingerly reached out to touch the colorful wing patch. Scarlet fabric with little white and black circles painted on it had been carefully stitched with a fine sinew into the Irish linen. He touched the seams, which had been sealed with some sort of natural glue.

Tajewo joined them, sporting a wide grin. “We knew the healed skin would please you,” he said in a mix of English and Swahili. He pointed to a top wing and the circles within circles painted on it. “We know not what this talisman is, but it protected the top, so we put it here.”

“Yes, I see,” mumbled Sam, still dazed over the shock of seeing his plane tricked out in such finery.

Jade elbowed him and gave him a significant look. “You were fortunate in your protectors, Sam. The plane wasn’t eaten by wildlife.”

Sam rallied at her reminder. “Yes,” he said with more feeling, “I am very happy. This is a big … big and happy surprise.” He plastered a large smile on his face. “Thank you.”

“I think the ostrich feathers and beads on the spars and handholds are a nice touch, too,” added Jade, fingering one of them.

“Ah,” said Tajewo, “these are a powerful charm. A black ostrich feather means peace.” He pointed to the red beads. “Red is survival. Together, they bring a blessing on the ar-plane.”

“Well, I can’t argue with that,” said Sam. “I can use all the help I can get right about now.” He thanked Tajewo again, shaking his hand.

Avery paused in his return from making a morning necessary visit. “Sweet mother of pearl,” he exclaimed, “it looks like a bloody circus came to town!”

THE THREE OF them worked for several hours after breakfast, draining the remaining gasoline, washing off the carburetor screens, and, in general, cleaning out everything on the plane that could possibly be cleaned. After straining the saved gasoline through a layer of mosquito netting, to catch the larger particles, then through cotton sheeting, they poured the fuel back into the tank. Then they repeated the process, again draining the gasoline after it had washed the interior. Each filtering left them with less gasoline.

“It would have been easier if we could have trained an elephant to come over and blow out the blasted tank,” said Sam.

“I wonder what our new friends think of all this,” Avery said with a nod to the Maasai.

They stood, storklike, and watched with keen interest. Only this time, their attention was fixed on a distant dust trail. Sam swore softly under his breath. The blasted animal crew would be there in a matter of minutes, and when they left, they’d take Jade with them.

It wasn’t that he felt any competition from Anderson. But after discovering that Jade had risked her neck flying solo for him, Sam really didn’t want her to leave his side. He wiped his hands on a rag. “We’ve got company.”

Standing suddenly after squatting so long made him feel woozy, so he took hold of the propeller for a better balance. Then he helped himself to a long pull on his canteen.
Be danged if I appear weak in front of these men.
After all, he reasoned, he was representing the air corps. Well, he and Avery both.

The two trucks pulled to a stop to the side of the plane. Daley drove one with Cutter riding shotgun. Several hired Africans rode in the back. Anderson drove the second truck, a large wood-and-wire crate in back.

Sam noted with disgust that the only empty seat for Jade was in Anderson’s truck.
Blasted son of
a one-eyed mule
probably planned it that way.
He nodded to the men and forced a smile. “Good morning. Have any trouble finding us?”

Daley leaned out of the window and waved. “Not much. For a while we got mixed up on another set of tracks. Looked like they doubled back to an old shack. Once we got back on yours, we followed them right to you.” He nodded to the plane. “Is it fixable?”

“Yes,” said Sam. “Just a matter of cleaning out the carburetor.”
And the tank,
he added silently, still wondering if one of them was the saboteur.

“Do you need anything?” asked Daley. “Got all your tools?”

“We could probably use another can of petrol,” said Avery, “if you have one to spare.”

Daley shook his head. “Gasoline’s kind of tight right now. No guarantee we could restock in Naivasha.”

“We’ll be all right,” said Sam.

Jade came around from the front of the plane, her trousers grimy and a streak of grease across her face. Sam thought she’d never looked lovelier.

“I hate to head off and leave you shorthanded, Sam,” she said. “But we shouldn’t be too long. Then I’ll help you and Avery finish up and I’ll fly back with you.”

Sam shook his head. “You’re not flying back with me.” He’d decided that last night.

Her dark brows furrowed and her eyes snapped green fire. “Why the hell not?”

“Not going to take a chance, Jade. Look, we’ve just about got this cleaned out, but …” He held a finger to her lips to stop her when she opened her mouth to protest. That mouth that he wanted to feel against his right now, grease and all. “There’s always a chance that we overlooked something, and I’m not going to risk your pretty neck up there with me.”

Jade scowled as though she’d like to see him try to make her go back without him. Sam saw the look and knew he had to get this bird up and off before they returned.

He gave her a gentle push toward the trucks, hoping she’d hop in the back of the first one with the natives. “Get going, now. And thanks for your help. All of it.”

“You’d better still be here, Sam Featherstone,” she said.

Wisely, he said nothing.

Jade gathered up her bag with her camera and personal effects and climbed into the passenger seat of Anderson’s truck. Anderson made sure Sam saw his big smile as they drove off, Tajewo and his companions jogging alongside them, refusing to ride.

Sam and Avery stood for a moment, watching the trucks head on toward the village.

“You asked her yet?” asked Avery.

Sam didn’t even pretend to misunderstand his friend. “Working up to it.”

Avery shook his head. “Don’t wait too long. The bucks are circling.”

TAJEWO LED JADE and her companions to an expansive enclosure made of dried mud and dung. Ringing the inner wall was a series of capacious mud, dung, and wattle huts. Jade counted forty-nine. She saw older women going about the business of milking cows and a few goats. The women were decked out in wide, flat beaded collars, which circled their slender necks like the rings of Saturn she’d seen in a photograph. Several girls were busy beading scabbards for a warrior’s knife. The littlest boys played at various games, pretending to herd cattle or hunt lion. Jade noticed only a few warriors defending the village. The older men, identifiable by their short or shaven hair, sat talking outside under a euphorbia tree.

“This is my village,” explained Tajewo. “I live here now but soon I will go with others of my age to the
manyatta
, the warriors’ village, to learn how to become an elder.”

“I see five warriors,” said Jade. “Are there many living here?”

Tajewo nodded. “Some are guarding the cattle. Others are over there.” He pointed to a distant hut where two men lounged, undergoing the time-consuming process of plaiting their hair and decorating their bodies. Two others hosted mock combats with some boys. Jade asked if she could photograph the
kraal
. Tajewo nodded.

“Ask him where our rhino is,” said Daley.

She didn’t need to. Tajewo understood enough English to grasp the question. He called to the men in the battle with the boys. They grinned and ran off to the far side where a few nanny goats were being milked. Soon they returned leading one very forlorn-looking little rhino.

“What the … ? They painted him,” said Cutter.

On his right hind quarters, the rhino bore a bright ocher circle with a darker red star inside it. Jade recognized the pattern as taken from the Jenny.

“We painted Bwana Mti Mguu’s brand,” said Tajewo. “He grows well on goat’s milk.”

Jade photographed the rhino as it stood by one of his guards. “He looks very healthy, Tajewo. Thank you.”

One of the girls ran over to the rhino and gazed up shyly at Tajewo. With a giggle, she placed a circlet of green-and-white beads around the rhino’s neck. Tajewo pretended to pay her no attention, but Jade detected a slight tilt to his lips. Obviously, this little damsel courted his favor and had found a new way of gaining notice beyond the usual beaded gifts would-be girlfriends made for prospective beaus.

“Asante sana,”
said Daley, thanking Tajewo in Brooklyn-laced Swahili after the girl had run back to her friends. “Load him up!” he shouted to Cutter and Anderson, who, in turn, directed the two African men in the trucks. But they hadn’t counted on the Maasai’s fierce reputation getting in the way. None of the assistants, all Kikuyu men, would set foot in the Maasai enclosure.

Tajewo also didn’t look pleased that men from a farming tribe might enter. In fact, noting that there was even a remote possibility of their doing so galvanized him into action. He motioned the two warriors guarding the calf to lead the rhino out to the truck.

The Kikuyu ran to the truck and opened the cage door. Hurrying on to Anderson’s truck, they retrieved four long boards and placed them side by side to form a long ramp. The confused calf had no intention of walking up them. So, finally, they slid the cage down the ramp and, by coaxing and prodding, induced the rhino to enter. Then they secured the door behind him.

The next step, pushing the cage back up the ramp, was no easy task as the calf weighed close to five hundred pounds. With the Kikuyu pulling the cage from above and Anderson, Cutter, and Daley pushing from below, they managed to get the cage back into the truck, much to the amusement of the watching Maasai. The warriors cheered, brandishing their spears. Two started to jump, stiff-legged, and were soon joined by the other warriors in this show of strength. Jade photographed this send-off, wishing Sam was here to capture it as a motion picture.

As she turned to leave, Jade saw one of the elders walk toward her, a long staff in one hand. He wore yards of red fabric fastened over his right shoulder like a tunic and, over that, a cloak of shimmering brown fur. A container for snuff, fashioned from a very small, painted gourd, hung around his neck. His gray hair was closely cropped, and large loops of beaded wire dangled from his ears, ending in tiny bells and what resembled spear points. In his other hand, he clutched a fly whisk made of wildebeest tail and lion’s mane. From the way the other elders moved aside, Jade knew he held rank. Had she broken a taboo by photographing the jumping competition?

Tajewo moved to her side. “It is the
laibon
,” he said, “the most powerful elder of all the villages. You may speak if he hands the talking stick to you.”

Jade felt her blood run cold and her muscles tense. The
laibon
. She had heard many stories of the supposed power such a man held. To Jelani, a Kikuyu, the
laibon
was the equivalent of a witch. But the witch she’d confronted in Tsavo on her first trip was not a respected village elder, but a man in pursuit of evil and power. She stood her ground and waited.

The elder spoke and Tajewo translated, though Jade was able to catch some of the words. “Engai, who has wide eyes, watches over you,” the
laibon
said, his voice cracking with age. “Sometimes he lets me see through his eyes. I have seen you face raking claws and blood-hot rage with the bravery of a warrior. I see something else: danger before you. It comes with madness in pale yellow eyes. When this killer comes for you again, Simba Jike, you must seek help from your mate.” He raised his fly whisk, spat on it, and brushed her face and shoulders.

A cold sweat broke out along Jade’s spine, and her vision dimmed. She saw a pair of faceless yellow eyes staring at her. With the image came a distant report, like a rifle’s. Jade shook her head to clear it, and the vision passed.

“It is a blessing,” whispered Tajewo, nudging her.

Jade extended her hand. The old man put the talking stick into it. “Thank you. I shall heed your warning,” said Jade as Tajewo translated. “And may Engai send you many cattle and many children and bring you sweet grass,” she concluded in Maa.

The
laibon
nodded, a pleased smile on his wrinkled face. Jade climbed into Anderson’s truck. She waved goodbye to Tajewo, and they drove back toward Nairobi with their prize.

Jade looked out the open window as the truck jerked and jolted over the rocky ground on this eastern side of Hell’s Gate. A family of rock hyrax, startled from their foraging, raced back into the shelter of the surrounding rocks with several loud squeaks. The last hyrax, a plump adult, turned and exposed its teeth at them before scurrying to safety with the others. Its fierceness and defiance, especially from something so small and edible to so many predators, impressed and amused Jade, until she recognized the creature’s fur as the same as in the
laibon
’s cloak. After they disappeared, Jade contented herself by watching the heat ripples that shimmied over the exposed bare ground.

“You’re coming in with us, aren’t you?” asked Anderson. “I mean, you aren’t expected to continue slaving over some dirty airplane engine, are you?”

Jade arched one brow in response. “I’d hardly call it slaving. It’s important to keep an engine clean if you expect it to run well. Even more so for an airplane.” She nodded toward the truck’s hood. “Sounds like this one could use some maintenance. Don’t you ever work on it?”

“Well, yeah. We change the oil when it needs it. Cutter handles most of that.”

Jade watched Anderson closely, gauging how much he really knew about engines and how much he might pretend not to know. And did he hate Sam enough to frame him or foul his engine? She decided to hit him with a broadside.

“So why did you tell Inspector Finch that Sam hit Stokes?”

Anderson inhaled and swallowed simultaneously, causing him to cough and wheeze on his own saliva. Jade reached over and held on to the steering wheel until he stopped. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and shook his head. “What are you … ? Where did you get that … ? What makes you think
I
tipped off the police?”