Zambezi (18 page)

He had come far, successful in business in his own right, and independently wealthy since his father’s death. He had spent the last few years indulging his two great passions – beautiful women and African wildlife.

But Miranda Banks-Lewis had offered him the one thing that was missing in his life. True love.

Such a confusing, alien emotion, it had surprised him like the sudden rearing of a cobra in the grass.

She had everything he might ever look for in a mate – beauty, intelligence and a passion for wildlife conservation. He had made his decision, had decided to commit himself to her totally, to curb his hedonistic tendencies.

Hassan sighed and squinted, even though he was wearing sunglasses, at the bright whiteness of the sandy beach in front of the low-rise luxury resort just north of Dar es Salaam.

The nose of the Zodiac fell, like his spirits, as he cut the power to the outboard motor. He had chanced everything on the beautiful American researcher, had risked his emotions just as he had when he confronted his mother. And, as in England, he had gambled and lost. The man he had come to meet slid off his stool under the beach bar’s awning and walked down the sand to greet him.

Jed woke up with a hangover. He was drinking too much, but he didn’t care – he was looking for evidence his daughter was dead. He showered, then smoked a cigarette while he dressed. Outside the lake shimmered pale-gold in the dawn’s light.

Christine had suggested they make an early start. She had grown silent after watching the news report and had never really rejoined their conversation as he and Moses swapped stories and male bullshit. She had left them straight after dinner, while he and Moses stayed behind for more drinks – beer for Jed and coffee for Moses. He liked the big Zimbabwean and felt at ease in his company.

Moses, Jed had learned, had been kicked out of the family home the night before he and Chris found him and had slept in the bar. It wasn’t the first time it had happened. From what the tracker told him, the dropoff in tourism and hunting had left the family increasingly short of money Moses’s wife had a job as a sales assistant in a clothing shop. The pay was lousy, but her husband hadn’t made a cent in two months. Jed sensed the big man’s shame at his lack of employment. While he disapproved of the fact that Moses had been able to find enough cash to get dead drunk, he was pretty sure he believed the African when he said his latest binge was not a regular occurrence.

‘I do lots of things my wife accuses me of, Jed,’ Moses had told him as he finished his black coffee. ‘I am not a saint, but I don’t drink when I’m working for a client and I wouldn’t let my child starve. If I do a good job for you, I can go home with money in my pocket and my head held high. It has been a long time since that happened.’

Jed had offered to pay for a hotel room for him for the night, but Moses had taken a cab back to Nyamhunga to ready his gear for the trip. Jed arranged to pick him up at the turn-off from the main road to the township the next morning.

Jed packed his gear and checked out of the hotel. There was no sign of Chris in the car park, so he smoked another cigarette while he waited, savouring the mild morning air, which would soon give way to another hot, sticky day.

‘Sorry I’m late, I was making a call home,’ she said, hurrying up the stone steps from reception.

‘Let me give you a hand with those.’ He reached for the aluminium case she was carrying.

‘It’s OK,’ she said, holding the bag away from him. ‘You could give me a hand with the pack, though.’

‘Sure. What’s in there anyway?’ He nodded to the silver-coloured case.

‘Photographic gear. It’s expensive.’

He nodded, tossed her backpack into the rear of her Land Rover and stood aside while she loaded the case.

It was a beautiful morning. As they climbed up out of the valley Chris slowed her Land Rover and Jed geared down to keep the interval between them. He wasn’t sure why she had dropped her speed to a crawl, nor why she turned on her right-hand indicator, even though there was no side road. He looked again at the trees to his right. Emerging from the forest was a zebra. He was surprised to see the exotic animal so close to a built-up area. In his mind, animals were found on the savanna or in dense jungles, not on the side of a black-top highway within view of a busy town.

The zebra stopped at the edge of the tree line and sniffed the air. Jed could see now it was a stallion. He was fascinated by the way its stripes continued unbroken from its body up into its bristling mane. The animal turned and stared at Chris’s Land Rover for a few seconds, then continued walking. Four more zebra, including a tiny foal on spindly legs in the middle of the procession, emerged from the trees and crossed the road in front of them. A zebra crossing, Jed thought to himself, smiling at his own stupid joke.

God, he wished Miranda was with him.

Moses was waiting for them at the Nyamhunga turn-off, sitting by the side of the road on a green canvas rucksack.

‘Climb in.’ Jed reached across to open the passenger door and Moses tossed his pack onto the back seat.

They drove on in companionable silence for a while.

‘Lion,’ Moses said.

‘What?’

‘Lion,’ he repeated, matter-of-factly.

‘Where?’

‘Up ahead. Slow down now. See her?’

Jed’s heart was racing as he scanned the road ahead and the bush on either side. ‘I still can’t see it.’

‘Flash your lights – Christine hasn’t seen it yet either.’

Chris caught the winking lights in her rear-view mirror and slowed down.

‘Look, to the left, at about ten o’clock. A lioness. Here she comes now.’

Jed strained, holding a hand up to shield his eyes from the morning sun’s glare. ‘I see her!’

‘She is alone. She has young cubs denned somewhere. See how full her teats are. She is waiting for the cubs to grow stronger before she takes them back to the pride. She’s returning from a night hunt.’

‘How can you tell?’

‘See the dried blood around her mouth.’

The lioness was big. Long-limbed, spare, all muscle – now that he looked closer Jed could see how her belly bulged with the night’s kill. As she crossed the road she paused for a couple of seconds and bared long yellowed fangs, panting slightly as she stared at Jed’s vehicle.

Jed felt a chill down his back at the sight of her. He wasn’t scared so much as awed by the raw power the animal exuded. He took in the rippling neck muscles, the huge padded paws, the pitiless amber eyes. Here was power, pure and simple: nature’s ultimate killer. He could barely imagine the primal terror her victims felt as those powerful jaws entrapped them.

The lioness padded across the tarmac road and disappeared into the long golden grass on the far side.

Jed’s pulse was racing. ‘Incredible.’

‘You’re lucky I haven’t seen lions on this road very often.’

‘Tell me, what would she have done if I’d got out of the car?’

‘One of two things. Most likely, she would have run away She’s used to seeing cars, but the silhouette of a man means danger for most animals. On the other hand, if her cubs are close by, and she considered you a threat to them, she would have charged and killed you.’

The road snaked upwards, the gradient getting steeper and the hairpin bends tighter as they made for the ridgeline that carried the main road from Harare. The rolling tree-covered hills that stretched away in front of them were beautiful, studded with flat-topped acacia trees. The road followed the ridge for a while and, as they drove through a high pass, Jed again caught a glimpse of the wide valley below, then they dropped down and started their descent into the Zambezi Valley. Jed saw a cluster of buildings ahead and to their left.

‘This is Marongora,’ Moses said, ‘where we have to sign in and get permits to enter the national park.’

The two vehicles crunched up a curving gravel driveway and stopped under a shady tree, outside a single-storey building painted a dull olive-green. An assortment of large whitewashed animal skulls was dotted around the pathway leading to the National Parks building. It was cool inside the office and Jed scanned a large-scale map of the Zambezi Valley pinned to the wall as Moses and Christine went through the formalities of arranging permits. Both of them greeted the ranger behind the desk like an old friend.

‘We have to pay for the vehicle entry here,’ Moses explained to Jed. ‘You pay for your own entry once we get to the main office inside the national park. As a foreigner, you have to pay more money, and in US dollars.’

‘Nothing like being made to feel welcome. What about you?’ he asked Chris.

‘I’ve got a permit already, it’s still valid. You have to sign the register as well’ She pointed to a book on the polished wooden counter.

The ranger handed him a pen. He filled out his name and address and scanned the page. Apparently there were few visitors to the park these days, as the entries on the single page in front of him covered a three-month period. He noted the countries of origin of the visitors – a few British, a couple of Germans, some Danes and a smattering of New Zealanders and Australians. He saw Chris’s entry in the book, but apart from her there was only one other American visitor to the park.

Miranda Banks-Lewis. He stared at his daughter’s large, bold handwriting and ran his forefinger along the dried ink.

‘Come on, Jed, we’ve still got a couple of hours’ drive to reach the lodges,’ Chris said.

‘Just a minute.’ He checked the date. Miranda had entered the park three weeks ago to the day. He was confused – he thought she had been in Mana Pools for three months. He looked up at the ranger.

‘How often does someone need to purchase a permit?’

‘It depends, sir, on the length of their booking.’

‘If someone was staying in the park on a research project for six months, could they get a permit for that long?’

‘Yes. As long as they had their campsite or accommodation booking for the same period.’

‘What about if they wanted to go out and do some shopping, to stock up on supplies?’

‘A person could leave for a day or two, but as long as they keep paying for their accommodation they would not need a new entry permit each time.’

‘Do you keep records of when people leave the park?’

‘Jed, we’re burning daylight,’ Chris interrupted, pointedly looking at her wristwatch.

He turned to her. ‘Go on ahead without us, if you like.’

‘I’ll wait.’

He turned to the ranger. ‘What happens when someone leaves for good?’

‘The gate officer collects your permit and it is brought here and filed.’

‘This lady, Miranda Banks-Lewis,’ he pointed to the registry entry, ‘bought a permit to enter the park three weeks ago. As far as I know, she would have been living in the park for about three months prior to this date. This seems to indicate that she left Mana Pools, maybe for some time, and then had to buy a permit to re-enter.’

The man’s eyes widened. ‘Miranda! Oh, this lady, I don’t know if you have heard about her, but -’

‘She’s my daughter. It’s OK, I know. It’s why I’m here.’

‘Oh, sir, I am so very sorry. She was a wonderful, wonderful person. I used to see her every couple of weeks when she went shopping in Kariba. I would sometimes give her money and she would collect food from the supermarket for my wife and drop it off here. One time she took my wife and baby son to the hospital when the little one was sick. My wife cried and cried when we heard the news.’

Jed was touched by the man’s emotion, but he needed answers. ‘So why did Miranda have to buy a permit three weeks ago if she was living here?’

‘She was gone for quite a while, about two weeks, when she went to South Africa.’

‘South Africa? Did she say what for?’

‘It was for her research, I think, sir. She had to go to a meeting with someone, I think she said it was her boss, and to collect some more drugs for the sedation of the lions. These things are hard to get in Zimbabwe.’

‘Her boss?’ He turned to Chris Wallis, but she was no longer in the room.

‘That’s what she said, sir.’

‘And how was she when she got back?’

The ranger looked puzzled.

‘Was she happy, sad, angry … ?’

The man was silent for a moment. ‘She was … I don’t know, sir …’

‘She was what?’ Jed tried to hide his impatience.

‘Well, sir, I don’t wish to speak ill of Miranda but… she seemed not as friendly as usual … more businesslike. Yes, that’s it, more businesslike than usual. I remember she didn’t have time to stop and talk. Often I would make her a cup of tea, but this last time she said, “Phinias, please just give me my permit, I’m in a hurry.”’

Jed knew his daughter had a way of winning people over. He’d seen her on camping trips strike up conversations with strangers and end up with their email addresses and phone numbers.

‘Did she say when she would be coming back through here, to see you again?’

‘No sir, but I was a bit surprised not to see her a week ago. She had said to me many times before that as much as she loved the bush she needed to get out to Kariba every two weeks to keep her sanity.’

That fitted, Jed thought. It had surprised him that a girl who loved other people’s company would commit herself to a monastic life in the middle of nowhere. ‘So she didn’t show up for her regular shopping trip?’

‘Not unless she didn’t bother stopping here on the way out or back into the park. But that would have been very strange indeed. She should have gone on her trip a week ago.’

Jed checked the date on the register. ‘So you should have seen her two or three days before her disappearance was reported?’

‘Yes, that would be right, sir.’

‘One more question, if you don’t mind.’

‘Of course not. No one here was more upset about what happened to Miss Miranda than I was.’

‘Did she have any close friends or acquaintances in the park or the local area? I’d like to talk to anyone who knew her well.’

‘You’ll find down in the park that she was a friend to everyone. She would often give lifts to the maids and rangers’ wives.’

‘Any male friends?’