Chapter 31
McBride and Miller went to the garage, and there was their rental, with the keys in the car. McBride got into the driving seat, while Dusty opened the garage door.
They drove out of the garage and the gate in the fence. The chopper was still there on the turning circle. The pilot was out of the machine, smoking a cigarette. He waved to them, and guided them past the chopper, a tight maneouvre. Then they were on the hardcore track down the mountain side, McBride keeping the vehicle tight against the mountain wall. He had the Range Rover in four wheel drive and the car held the track as if it was glued to it. It was a slow drive nevertheless; it was still dark and barely four in the morning. The Kruger Park wouldn’t be open for another two hours.
They arrived at the tarmac road, and McBride leaned out of the car window, searching for where he had left the Mazda. He spotted it, and pulled off the road next to it. Miller had fallen asleep while they journeyed down the track, waking when the Range Rover stopped.
“Are you okay to drive, Dusty? Not too tired? I’m going to take the Mazda back to the camp. I thought you might drive the Range Rover, and follow me.”
“Yes, no problem. I’m not too tired to drive.” He opened the passenger door jumped on to the ground and started round the front of the car. McBride got out, and searched his pocket for the Mazda keys. For a few moments he thought he must have dropped them somewhere, and imagined trying to hotwire the sports car. Then he found them, stuck in the bottom of his trouser pocket.
He reversed the Mazda on to the tarmac, and then moved the car forward, to give room for Miller to get the Rover on the road. Then in convoy they set off. McBride reckoned they would be at the Malelane Gate in an hour, leaving them some time to wait for it to open. It couldn’t be helped.
They were first in the queue when they pulled up outside the reception area, and stood in the early morning dark, listening to the cries of the night animals, each trying to name the animal they heard. Miller won. After all, he had spent more time in Africa than McBride.
“That’s fifty rand you owe me,” said Dusty. “My God, I’m rich.”
McBride handed him a fifty note, and at that point the reception doors opened. They both went to book in.
Since they were first into the park, they weren’t delayed by tourists on the road to the camp. They pulled up outside Bungalow seven, and Miller was out first.
“If you don’t let me have a shower first, I’ll kill you.”
McBride tossed him the bungalow keys. “Carry on. I’m just going to return the Mazda. Leave the bungalow door open.”
He drove the Mazda to Belinda’s bungalow, and blew the horn, a quick toot, aware that many would still be asleep. He was out of the car, hand raised to knock on the door, when it was opened, and Belinda in a nightdress was smiling at him.
She put her arms round him, and kissed him. “I began to think I wouldn’t see you again,” she said, into his ear.
“You thought this was an elaborate scam to steal your car?” said McBride.
“Don’t be silly. And come inside right away. You might be too tired, but it’s got to be worth a try.”
“Whatever do you mean?” said McBride, lifting her up and carrying her inside.
It was nearly lunch time when McBride made it back to Bungalow seven. He pushed open the front door, and walked into the living room. No Miller. He looked into his bedroom. Miller was in bed, snoring. But at least not muddy.
McBride shouted “Wakey, wakey!”
Dusty woke up and immediately sat up in bed. Military training.
“I’m just going down the pub for something to eat,” said McBride. “And drink.”
Miller put his feet on the floor. “Sounds good, give me five minutes and I’ll come with you.”
They walked over to the bar, which was quiet at lunchtimes; Most of the camp inhabitants were out spotting the big five as people called the famous African safari animals. McBride had not only seen them, but got them down on paper and Miller lived in the African continent. They took stools at the bar, and ordered beer and sandwiches.
“Tonight I’ll order a hot meal. For the past couple of days I’ve been living on junk food. That chauffeur has no idea about diet.”
“That reminds me, did the police get hold of you this morning? The major said he might want statements from us.”
“Good job you asked me. He did phone, before I fell asleep. He’s dropping by this afternoon.” He looked at his wristwatch. “Should be here in halfanhour Shit, no time for anything, these days.”
McBride got off his stool. “I’ll go back and attach a note to the door. McBride and Miller are at the bar.”
He was back within five minutes, just in time to see the sandwiches being delivered. He sat down on the same stool, reached over for his beer. Raising the glass he said, “Here’s to a quiet future and our savings back in the bank.”
“I didn’t phone the king,” said Miller. “Something I must do this afternoon. Are you painting today, John?”
“No I’m taking the afternoon off. I might take a nap.”
“Didn’t you sleep this morning?”
“Don’t ask what I was doing.”
“Oh, that.”
They finished the sandwiches pretty quickly, and the beer, too. Decided to have another pint, and had just ordered when they heard Major Mazombe. He pushed in beside them at the bar. He accepted the offer of a glass of beer, downed it in one long swig.
“I’ve had a busy morning. We searched the scrub inch by inch last night. There was no sign of the man with the broken ankle.”
Miller looked puzzled. “I don’t see how he got far with that ankle,” he said. “He was sobbing with pain. Could have been putting it on, I suppose, but the ankle was swollen like a balloon.”
The major frowned into his replenished glass of beer. “We even went along the valley floor, in case he’d fallen off the cliff. I didn’t even go to bed last night. We were there until long past dawn.”
“Did you think to check hospital accident admissions?” said McBride.
“No. How would he have got to hospital?”
“Is Markham’s car still at the house? It was in the garage when we left last night. The key was probably in it. We left in our hire car, and the key was in that. If he dragged himself out of the scrub, and hid round the houses, he could have got by your cordon, and drove himself to hospital for attention. I bet the car was an automatic.”
“And the break was the left leg. He could have driven an automatic.”
The major was thinking. “I can’t think of an alternative. I would think he went to a Jo’burg hospital, might still be there if he’s in bad shape.” He pulled out his cell phone, speed dialed. He spoke for several minutes, eventually put the phone back in his pocket.
“I’ve got my people phoning all hospitals in the area, asking about admissions with ankle breaks. They’re coming back to me when they have some news.”
The major, opened his brief case, pulled out a sheaf of papers. “May as well get some statements. Is that okay with you both?” Without waiting for a reply, he spread the sheets on the bar top, and got out a ball point pen. “Let’s start with you, Brigadier.”
Miller went through his story in full and the major wrote rapidly. When he had finished, he got Miller to sign, put the statement in his brief case. With a fresh piece of paper on the bar, he said,“Now a description of the missing man. You said he was Markham’s chauffeur?”
“So I believe. Every time I have seen Markham, Bo has been driving.”
“Bo. That’s his name?”
“That is the only name I have heard.”
“Physical description?”
“Black, maybe Zulu. Certainly big, over six foot. Muscular, but overweight.”
The major grinned. “You’re going to say all blacks look alike, eh?
Same with you whites.” He laughed again. “Suppose I’ll have to be content with that.”
“Y
ou could add: walks with a limp.” Miller smiled.
“Right you next,” said the major to McBride.
“You can sum it up in one sentence. I was looking for Miller, and Markham caught me snooping and was just about to execute me when Miller turned up.”
The major was scribbling rapidly. “Looks like a lot more than I said,” said McBride.
“Just adding how you found where they might be. You’re going to sign it. Cross anything out that you disagree with.”
McBride signed with a flourish.