The Leopard's Prey (39 page)

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Authors: Suzanne Arruda

Tags: #Mystery, #Historical

BOOK: The Leopard's Prey
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The cat seemed to recognize the sound of an opening cage door and reacted immediately. He leaped back to the floor and swiped at the slats, trying to pry the door open farther. At each attempt, Jade stabbed at his pads and drove him back. The infuriated leopard swatted at the door with greater speed and strength.

His actions attracted Percy’s attention. For a while, the old lion had been more interested in making the acquaintance of the lioness across the way and voicing soft
pfff
sounds in greeting. But here was another animal toying with his cage. It was doubtful whether Percy regarded Jade as anything more than a familiar human, one who sometimes talked to him or brought him treats. But he’d marked that cage as his turf, and no other cat, no matter the species, was going to usurp his territory.

With a deafening roar that shook Jade to her marrow, Percy wheeled and lunged for the leopard just as the furious, spotted cat managed to swing the door open. The old lion might never have hunted or made a kill before, but his sheer size made up for his inexperience. One swipe of his huge paw caught the leopard in the shoulder and sent him reeling backward. The smaller cat tumbled twice before righting himself.

Percy didn’t know to follow through, however, and the leopard charged, leaping on top of the lion.
Chui
dug in with his hind claws and scratched at Percy’s back and head with his forelegs. The actions were useless against the lion’s thick mane, but not against his shoulders. Percy snarled, screwing his face into a hideous grimace. He shook himself, trying to dislodge his opponent. When that didn’t work, he reached around to bite the leopard.

His reach wasn’t long enough to catch hold of the demon on his back, but the action threw Percy into a roll. As he turned over, the leopard pulled away and rolled onto its back, waiting for Percy to show his vulnerable underbelly to the raking hind claws.

Jade watched in horror, knowing that Percy was seconds away from being disemboweled and that her own death would follow soon after.
Not without a fight!
She hurried to the cage door and hurled her knife at the leopard’s side, hoping to penetrate a lung at least.

The knife caught the shifting leopard in his shoulder and stuck. The cat screamed in pain and rage, rolling to the side in an effort to rid itself of this newest torment. The movement and the blood scent gave Percy the opportunity and the stimulus he needed. With one bite, he clamped his huge maw around the leopard’s throat and held. The smaller cat struggled, his hind feet flailing uselessly, scratching the air. Then he lay limp. Percy held on with his suffocating grip for a moment longer, and Jade used the opportunity to vacate the cage and head for a window.

With apologies to the honey badger and the civet cat, she stacked their cages atop each other to climb up to the narrow opening. That was when she found Wachiru, lying facedown beside the mongoose cage. She felt for a pulse, found one. Fear gave her additional strength as she hoisted him onto her back like a cape. His arms draped over her shoulders, spreading his weight along her spine.

But there was no way she could get him up and out that window. Even if she did, the drop down could break his back. Instead, she half carried, half dragged him to the front door and set him down next to it. Then she rummaged in his pockets for his key so she could unlock the door from the outside.

“I’ll be right back,” she told him, unsure if he could hear her.

Jade hurried back to the stacked cages and hauled herself through the window, leaving Percy to roar his triumphant call to the night, proclaiming his first kill.

She prayed Wachiru would not be his second.

CHAPTER 22

Maasai do not steal. Well, not from one another.
They once raided other tribes for cattle, but then, since Engai
gave all cattle to them, that’s not really considered stealing.

—The Traveler

BY THE TIME Jade had shinnied out the window and dropped to the ground, she was scratched and bruised, her shirt ripped open across the midsection. Her legs and arms quivered, the muscles twitching. Behind her, Percy continued to announce to his would-be mate that he was lord of the realm. Jade had heard him roar before, but never with this ferocity. He’d made his first kill and would leave Africa a wild lion.

But Jade needed to make certain that this was his only kill. She had to get Wachiru out. The first time she got to her feet, her knees buckled and she collapsed back onto the ground. The second time, she used the wall to support her, willing her legs to move. She staggered around the side to the door and pushed the key into the padlock, removing the lock and letting it drop. When she opened the door, Wachiru tumbled halfway out. Jade grabbed him under his arms and pulled him clear. Finally she shoved the door closed and locked it again.

Percy was still loose inside, and eventually they’d have to coax or drive him back into his cage. But not now. Right now Jade needed to ascertain the extent of Wachiru’s injuries. She knelt beside him and, starting at his head, examined him for cuts and wounds. All she found was a lump on the back of his head where he’d been hit from behind. The leopard hadn’t found him.

Yet!

Jade had no doubts that whoever had set her up had also intended for the leopard to finish off Wachiru, making it look like their combined incompetence had resulted in their deaths. Sam’s intended crash was supposed to look that way, too. Apparently, both of them knew something incriminating. She just wished
she
knew what in the Sam Hill it was.

Let Finch sort it out.
Right now, she needed to get medical attention for Wachiru. And that meant leaving him long enough to find a telephone. The depot? Probably closed until morning. The railway office. Someone should be on duty.

“Wachiru,” she said into his left ear. “Wachiru!” She was rewarded with a moan. “It’s Simba Jike. You’re hurt. I’m going to find help. Don’t move.”

“Simba Jike?” He started to lift his head and groaned.

“Don’t move! Do you hear? I am going to call for help. I’ll be right back.” She wondered if he understood. “Wiggle your fingers if you can hear me.” He did. “Good. Now, don’t move!”

She ran across the rows of tracks to the railroad office housed in yet another tin-roofed, wooden building. One light burned inside, and through the window, Jade could see a man sitting with his feet propped up on the desk, eyes closed and arms folded across his chest, his mouth agape. Jade tried the door, found it locked, and knocked loudly.

“Open up! I need help!”

From inside she heard a startled “Hunh” and the squeak of a chair. “Someone out there?”

“Yes. Let me in! I need help.”

The latch clicked and the door swung inward. In front of her was a drowsy-looking man in his midthirties, balding, his tie askew and hair mussed. He blinked several times and yawned. Then his eyes lit on her torn shirt and smudged face. “I say, you look as if you’re in a bad way. You’d best come inside and sit down.”

Jade stepped into the cluttered office crammed with wooden filing cabinets, boxes, a telegraph set, and a desk. The man straightened his tie and ran his fingers through his hair. “Can I fetch something for you? Tea?” He looked around the room. “I might have a tin of biscuits here.”

“I need a telephone,” said Jade.

“A telephone? Oh, yes. Quite.” He pointed to the one on the wall. “Did you have an accident? Wreck a motorcar?”

“No.” Jade picked up the handset, clicked the receiver up, and cranked the handle around several times. “Hello? Operator? Please connect me to the police. Yes, the police. Thank you.”

“The police,” said the man beside her. “By thunder, did someone rob you?”

Jade shook her head. “No, but—” Her explanation was interrupted by a voice on the line. “Hello. Police? I want to report an attempted murder.”

“Murder!” exclaimed the railroad man. “My stars!”

“Yes, murder,” continued Jade, trying to hear over the expostulations next to her. “Warehouse number eight. And bring a doctor. There’s an injured man.”

She hung up the telephone. “Thank you,” she said to her now-agitated companion. For a moment she toyed with ringing up the Dunburys, but it was so late, past two in the morning. They’d be asleep and she didn’t want to worry Beverly, not in her condition.

“Are you certain, miss, that I cannot be of more assistance?” asked the railroad man.

“No, I’ll be fine. But thank you, Mr… . ?”

“Oswald. Dicky Oswald.” He smiled and stood up very straight, trying to add another inch to his stature.

“Thank you, Mr. Oswald. You’ve already been a great help. Now I have to get back. I left an injured man out there.” She stopped at the door and turned partway around. “There is something else. Do you have a cup or mug that I can use, please? I need to give someone water.”

He filled a drinking tumbler from the crockery water-cooler. “Perhaps I should accompany you, miss. It seems you’ve had quite enough adventure.” He looked around the office. “I should just secure everything here first and …”

Jade didn’t have time to wait for him to tidy up. She took the tumbler from him. “If you wish, but
I
must get back now. Thank you.” She hurried back to the warehouse and knelt beside Wachiru, cradling his head and holding the water glass to his lips. “Drink, Wachiru,” she said. She let some water trickle onto his lips. His eyelids fluttered and his mouth opened. “Easy, now. Take it slowly.”

Jade heard the sound of hasty footsteps from behind her. “There you are,” said Oswald. “I was worried that … Oh! I say. It’s a
native
!”

“His name is Wachiru,” said Jade as she offered the water again. “He’s been hurt.”

“Is
this
the man that set upon you, miss? Be careful! If he comes to, he may try again.”

“You don’t understand, Mr. Oswald. Wachiru was hit and left to die by the same man who tried to kill me.”

Any further explanation was stopped by an approaching motorcar. Jade recognized Constable Miller as he stepped out along with an African
askari
.

“Miss del Cameron, I believe,” he said. “What’s all this about an attempted murder?”

Jade explained briefly the evening’s events, beginning with the message that Percy was sick and ending with Wachiru’s rescue.

“Could this man,” Miller asked, “be the one who lured you in? Perhaps he took a fall before he could get out himself?”

Jade shook her head, then stopped when it only increased her growing headache. “No. I know Wachiru. He’s a trusted employee.”

“Perhaps it was all just an accident, Miss del Cameron,” Miller said. “You may be overreacting to think of this as a murder attempt. Not surprising considering the perilous situation you’ve just emerged from.”

Jade scowled and gritted her teeth. Why did all officers think that women got hysterical and overreacted at the slightest provocation?

Before Jade could say anything, Miller continued. “It’s very easily explained, you see. Your man there was checking on the animals. He saw the lion seemed ill and sent someone for you. In the meantime, the leopard escaped. Perhaps this man—”

“His name is Wachiru!” growled Jade.

“Yes, of course. Your man Wachiru there might have been feeding it at the time. He fled, hit his head, and there you are. You arrive, the leopard charges, and naturally you know the rest.”

“That’s a lovely theory, Constable Miller, except that it doesn’t explain how the door locked behind me.”

“Hmm, yes. Are you certain you didn’t shut the door behind you?” asked Miller. “Perhaps you did and the lock caught.”

“It’s a damn padlock!” shouted Jade. Beside her, Wachiru moaned and either fell asleep or passed into unconsciousness again. “You did call for a doctor, didn’t you?” she asked. “Wachiru’s hurt.”

“Yes, of course. Dr. Garnham should be along in a moment. Rang him up just before I left.” Miller seemed to notice Oswald for the first time. “And you are?”

“Richard Oswald, Constable. Most people know me as Dicky, though. I have the night shift this month at the rail offices.” He pointed across the tracks to the little wooden building. “The, uh, young lady came to my office for assistance. In need of a telephone.”

“Very good,” said Miller. “So you’ve been there all evening?”

“Since seven o’clock, Constable. Same as every night.”

“Did you see anyone suspicious loitering about these premises?”

“No, I did not.”

“It’s a bit difficult to do with your eyes closed, isn’t it?” asked Jade. “I believe you were asleep when I knocked on your door.”

Oswald’s face reddened. “Of course not,” he said. “Can’t sleep on duty. And speaking of duty, I had best return to mine.” He paused and waved his hand in Wachiru’s direction. “No need to return the water glass, miss.”

Jade watched him hurry back to the office.
Running like a cowardly cur.
“You can’t go by his word,” said Jade to Miller. “He
was
asleep when I knocked on his door. He knows that. That’s why he skeedaddled just now. It’s worth his job.”

“I will grant you that much, Miss del Cameron. Many a night watchman has been caught napping while on duty. But the simplest explanation is generally correct. I see no real reason to suppose someone meant murder. At most, someone was negligent and shut the door not knowing you were inside.” He turned his head at the approach of another motorcar. “Ah, the good doctor arrives.”

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