The Second Death of Goodluck Tinubu (47 page)

“Yes. I have a wife in Francistown.”

Tatwa looked at him. “Don’t be stupid, Enoch. Every Motswana man
has a mistress! Except Kubu and me, of course. No one needs to
cover for that. Not with the wife as far away as Francistown. And
Dupie wouldn’t have put himself out for that. We know what you did.
You drove to Maun and tortured William Boardman to death, didn’t
you? But that was easy, wasn’t it? After you’d killed Goodluck,
Zondo, and Langa right here.” Tatwa leaned forward and lifted the
Watching Eye as though to examine it. It oscillated and flashed the
sunlight from the tent opening into Enoch’s face.

Enoch’s reaction was so sudden that it caught both of them off
guard. He grabbed the Eye, slammed it on the desk, and smashed it
with something in his fist. Shards of indigo glass flew everywhere.
Both detectives jumped back, instinctively closing their eyes. When
they opened them a split second later, they found themselves
looking at Dupie’s service revolver. Kubu cursed himself under his
breath. This man was a fighter, a real veteran of a real war. How
could he have been so stupid? No constable was present, no one had
searched Enoch. It was all too casual. He had ignored the fact that
this man was a multiple murderer. He forced himself to relax in his
chair.

“Don’t be silly, Enoch. That’s not going to get you anywhere.
There’s nowhere to go, nowhere to run. We know you weren’t the
mastermind behind the murders. Let’s put the blame where it really
belongs. You were helping Dupie, weren’t you?”

Enoch pointed to the smashed talisman with his left hand.
“That’s finished!” he shouted. “I did it for her! You understand?
Not for him, for her.”

Kubu nodded, at sea. “I understand, Enoch. Let’s talk about it.
There’s no way out of here. Just put down the gun, and we can work
it out together.”

Enoch did not answer. He pointed at Tatwa with the gun. “I’m
leaving now,” he said. “He’s coming with me. You tell your people
that if they try to stop me, I’ll kill him first. You tell them.”
Returning his aim to Kubu, he yanked Tatwa up with his left hand.
“Turn around,” he said.

Having no choice, Tatwa turned with his back to Enoch. Enoch
patted him down, keeping his eyes on Kubu. “Okay. Pick up the
backpack. Slowly.” Tatwa bent over and lifted the pack. It was
heavy. Stuffed.

“What’s in here?” Tatwa asked, but Enoch ignored him.

“Get out there,” he ordered Kubu, indicating the tent entrance.
Then he followed, Tatwa first.

Tau and one of the other constables were drinking coffee in the
breakfast area. The third was probably in the kitchen.

“Tell them!” said Enoch.

“Hold your fire!” shouted Kubu, hoping the constables were
armed. “He’s got a gun on Detective Mooka!” Both policemen jumped
up, alert. Enoch had made a mistake. He could probably have walked
right past them with Kubu and Tatwa, almost unnoticed. Now he had
four potential adversaries instead of two. That was little comfort
to Tatwa. He could feel the gun in the small of his back, pressing
his spine.

“You stay here,” Enoch told Kubu.

“Enoch, you’re just making it worse. You can’t escape. Where
would you go? Give me the gun, and we can make a deal. Arrange
something.”

“Stay here!” Enoch repeated loudly.

Dupie ran from the kitchen followed by the third constable.

“What the hell’s going on?” he demanded. Then he saw the
revolver. “Oh shit! Enoch, you gone mad?” Enoch ignored him and
backed away, holding Tatwa as a shield between himself and the
others.

He carefully made the hundred yards to the jetty. The others
moved forward in a circle but did not crowd him. They had no doubt
that he would kill Tatwa as a last resort. Enoch worked his way to
the camp’s motorboat.

“Put the backpack in the boat.” While Tatwa did so, Enoch untied
the boat and pushed it out. The gun never wavered from Tatwa. “Now
wade out and get in, slowly.” Tatwa knelt to undo his sneakers, but
Enoch shoved him so hard he nearly fell. “Forget your shoes! Get in
the boat!” Tatwa waded out, and Enoch followed. His attention was
now on Kubu and the others, and he pointed the gun at them. But
Tatwa was climbing gingerly into the launch and did not notice
that. A moment later, Enoch was in the boat with him, the gun at
Tatwa’s head again. In those few seconds, Constable Tau had got his
gun unholstered and had it behind his back, waiting for a chance.
Enoch would need both hands to start the outboard motor. But Enoch
inserted the ignition keys. “You do it,” he told Tatwa.

Tatwa looked at him and at the revolver. He knew this was going
to end badly. He might as well make his play now. “No,” he
said.

Enoch looked at him, sensing the resolution. “Okay,” he said.
“Then we’re stuck here. That’s the idea, isn’t it? Sooner or later
one of them shoots me, and it’s over?” Tatwa said nothing. “I told
them to stay at the dining area,” Enoch continued, indicating the
policemen on the shore. “But they don’t listen either. So start the
motor. The fat detective is in range. I’m a dead shot with a
revolver. You want to try me?” Tatwa said nothing, holding his
ground. Kubu was well back.

“Superintendent,” shouted Enoch. “Come here. I want to make a
deal. The others stay back. Not a step closer.” Kubu moved gingerly
forward until he was near the boat. “What’s the deal?”

“Tell him to start the motor. Otherwise I shoot you both. I can
kill you before they get me. Easy.” Kubu considered the situation.
“Start the motor, Tatwa,” he said.

Tatwa considered, too. Then he leaned forward and with three
sharp jerks started the outboard. It roared. Two large crocodiles,
disturbed, exited the sandbank into the water. Enoch guided the
boat slowly into the lagoon. “Sit on the edge,” he told Tatwa,
indicating the side of the boat with the gun.

“So when you shoot me, I’ll fall over? No. I’ll stay here. You
can have a dead body weighing down your boat, if that’s what you
want.”

“If you do what I say, I promise I won’t shoot you. I swear it
on my ancestors,” said Enoch. Tatwa looked into Enoch’s eyes,
strangely believing him. He shrugged and perched on the side of the
boat. The next moment Enoch jumped forward and shoved him off into
the water. Then he opened the throttle, and the boat jerked
forward.

Tatwa had not expected this. He should have, but he had focused
on the gun. The water closed over his head, and he held his breath,
panicked. He could not swim. And there were crocodiles! His head
broke the surface, and he heard shots. Constable Tau had run to the
bank and had fired at Enoch, who had retaliated by firing back not
at Tau but at Tatwa. Tatwa heard the whine of the bullet. Tatwa
churned with his feet and yelled. “Help! Help! I can’t swim! The
crocodiles, oh God, the crocodiles!” His head went below the water
again, and he choked.

Kubu was at the water’s edge too. He shoved Tau toward the
police launch. “He’ll drown! Forget Enoch. Get Tatwa!” He fumbled
in his pocket, coming up with the launch’s keys. “Thank God!” he
said tossing them to Tau.

Tau grabbed them, ran to the dock, and jumped into the boat. He
started it with one pull, threw off the tie rope, and headed out
into the lagoon at full throttle. Tatwa was thrashing in the water,
trying not to sink.

“Tatwa!” Kubu shouted. “Kick off your shoes. They’re pulling you
down. Lie on your back. You’ll float!”

Tatwa tried to obey the conflicting instructions, but the shoes
were laced on and wouldn’t kick off and, when he tried to float on
his back, they dragged him under. He flailed his arms, tried to
pull himself up, and took a lungful of water. He was coughing again
and starting to panic. Oh God, where were the crocodiles?

But Tau was nearly there. In fact, he cut the motor too late and
realized he would drift past. He leaned out holding an oar. “Grab
it, Tatwa, grab it!” But it was just out of reach.

Suddenly Tatwa felt something large and solid rub his leg.
Perhaps it was a submerged log. But maybe not…

With a high-pitched scream, he flung himself forward, away,
kicking the thing behind him. Miraculously, that propelled him
toward the boat, allowing him to grasp the oar, and climb it toward
the boat. He nearly pulled Tau into the water, and between them
they almost capsized the boat. They landed in a heap in the middle,
as it swayed wildly from side to side, taking water. Tatwa was
still screaming, but Tau put a hand over his mouth. Slowly the boat
settled.

Tatwa huddled in the middle of the boat, shivering. Tau asked
him if he was okay, but Tatwa just looked at him. “It was a
crocodile,” he said. His teeth started to chatter.

Against all the odds, Tatwa’s St. Louis hat floated next to the
boat. “Your lucky hat!” Tau exclaimed. Tatwa ignored it, so Tau
leaned over, scooped it up, and tossed it into the boat. It
floated. He realized the water in the boat was above his ankles.
Chasing Enoch was out of the question. With a couple of solid
pulls, he got the motor going and headed for the group on the
shore.

Tau ran the boat aground, cut the motor, and Kubu helped Tatwa
out. “My friend, you gave us a bad scare. You need a change of
clothes and a stiff whisky. In that order. Come on.” Tatwa shook
his head, dripping. “It was definitely a crocodile,” he said. “A
huge one.” He was starting to feel ashamed of the panic that had
probably saved his life. “My brother was just ten years old,” he
added. Kubu was puzzled, but didn’t pursue it.

They could still hear the distant sound of Enoch’s motorboat,
which had disappeared around a bend upstream. Enoch and his
backpack – presumably stuffed with Goodluck’s money – were gone. He
had miles of the Caprivi on the Namibian side, and miles of wild
Linyanti on the Botswanan side, in which to disappear.

∨
The Second Death of Goodluck Tinubu
∧

W
hile Tatwa showered
and changed and regained his composure, Kubu was in contact with
the CID in Kasane. They promised to contact the Defense Force and
get a spotter plane into the area as soon as possible. With low
passes over the river, they would certainly pick up Enoch if the
boat was still on the water. But it would take at least an hour.
They would see what could be done about a helicopter. Once Enoch
was found, they needed to be able to get on the ground to arrest
him.

Constable Tau and another constable had bailed out the boat and
were ready to head off after Enoch in the police launch. Kubu was
pleased about the ace he had hidden up his sleeve the night
before.

“He can’t get far. Keep in touch using the radio and don’t
engage him in a shoot-out. If you spot him, keep out of range, stay
on his tail, and wait for reinforcements from the Defense Force. I
don’t want one of you floating around in the river. We’ve had
enough close calls today.” Tau promised to be careful, but went off
excited. Minutes later Kubu heard the launch start up. The chase
was on!

When Kubu closed his phone, Dupie came up shaking his head.
“Damn!” he said. “I would never have believed it unless I saw it.
Enoch, after all these years.”

“I want to show you something,” said Kubu. He led the way to the
office tent and entered first so he could watch Dupie’s face as he
came in. The desk was still showered by chips and pieces of the
broken Eye. Dupie’s jaw dropped. “Shit!” he said. “How did this
happen? I told you it was important.” Now he sounded genuinely
shocked and angry.

“Enoch. And what he said was: ‘That’s finished. I did it for
her. Not for him, for her.’ What do you think that means?”

Dupie just shook his head. “I don’t know what to think. Why did
he smash the Eye?”

“Perhaps he was announcing the end of a connection, Dupie. The
end of a relationship. After this, you’re on your own. Could that
be it?” But Dupie did not answer. He backed out of the tent,
visibly shaken. Salome was calling him.

Kubu could hear Dupie telling Salome and the camp staff what had
happened. Already the story was becoming distorted. Salome started
to sob, and Dupie broke off to comfort her. Kubu scowled. Things
were complicated enough. It was time to contact Mabaku and to
decide on the next step.

♦

Mabaku had escaped from home and was at the office. He was tired
and sore and did not need any bad news. But that is what he got.
Serves me right for not listening to Marie, he thought.

“So let me get this straight, Kubu,” he said, when Kubu had
filled him in on the events of the last two days. “You suspected
Enoch because Du Pisanie tipped you off about him. You practically
arrested him, but it didn’t occur to you he might be armed? So he’s
now escaped – with the money, you say – and we have the Defense
Force scouring the country. Two countries, actually. Did anyone
think of informing the Namibian police?”

“I’m sure Kasane will do that. The Defense Force will have to
inform them about the plane and the chopper, too.”

“I’m sick to death of people being sure about things. Maybe
they’ll forget, too. Get onto them and discuss it with the police
there yourself,” Mabaku growled.

Kubu hadn’t forgotten. He had just thought it politic to phone
Mabaku first. But he didn’t want to waste time arguing. “Yes, of
course, Director,” he said. “But it’s not as bad as it sounds.”

“Why not?”

“Because, as a precaution, I told Tau to empty the camp
motor-boat’s fuel tank last night. The boat won’t be able to get
far.”

“Well, that’s something, I suppose,” said Mabaku, impressed in
spite of himself. “But let’s leave Enoch to the local police. I
want you back here; I can’t rely on Banda. Enough of playing cat
and mouse on the Linyanti. It looks like it was actually cat and
lion with you as the cat. At least you weren’t the mouse!”

Mabaku’s instruction was good news for Kubu. It coincided with
what he wanted to do anyway. I must call Joy, he thought, worried
again. “Yes, Director, that was my intention. What shall I do with
Du Pisanie and McGlashan? Bring them in to Kasane, or leave them
here?”