I stopped by my postbox on the way into Katima and the crazy man with the ax approached me again. His eyes were a little less wild than they had been when we first met and Nandi had steered him away from me. This time he confronted me with a piece of crumpled dirty paper. He pressed it into my hand and stumbled away, reeking of alcohol and the smoke of a cooking fire. I put the paper in my pocket, proceeded to my box with my key, and retrieved a postcard from my dad from Yosemite, telling me that he had found a job for me there. I smiled. He had scribbled something at the bottom. LR was trying to contact me.
It took me a second to realize he must have been referring to my old housemate from grad school, Ling-Ru. Before I left South Africa, we had spoken briefly on the phone. She was being interviewed for a customs job in Hong Kong. I had encouraged her to take it. I wondered if this meant that she had. I put the card in my pocket and hurried back to the car to open the piece of paper.
Ms. Catarin Sohon,
Please come to my office at Dollar Store. Very quickly please. Urgent matter.
Your kindly friend,
Mr. Lin
I drove to the Dollar Store, going through all the possible scenarios of why this man would reach out to me. And why now? Maybe he had learned through the underground that Sianga had gotten out on bail and escaped, and now he was scared he would be found out. Or perhaps the roadblock was a botched job and he intended to kill me—if he was indeed the one behind the roadblock. If so, maybe it wasn’t safe to go alone.
My mind was swimming with questions. I wanted to tell Jon what had happened to Sianga and that we were planning for him to be our key witness. I desperately wanted his take on things, and it felt more and more dishonest to be holding so much from him. But I had no choice but to trust Craig.
I had a meeting scheduled with the rangers to overlay the waypoints of elephant carcasses we collected from the GPS during the aerial census onto their foot patrol map. They were planning to investigate each scene from the ground in some of the more remote areas of the park. And then I was meeting Jon and Nigel for dinner. I had plenty of time to pay Mr. Lin a visit before then. But I’d make sure there were people around.
When I arrived at the manager’s office of the Dollar Store, Mr. Lin’s door was open and I walked in before realizing I was interrupting a pointed conversation between Mr. Lin and Nigel. “Oh, sorry to interrupt. I will wait outside.”
Mr. Lin stood up. “If you have complaint, please speak to cashier.”
I shook my head, but then realized that he might not want anyone to know he had asked me there. “Yes, of course.” I nodded.
As I backed away, Nigel nodded a hello to me and then held up a uniform shirt to Lin. “This is the third time you sold me this cheap Chinese kak.” He pulled at the holes where the buttons had pulled through the material.
“Chinese bargain. Bound to be flaw in every batch.”
“The whole lot is flawed!” He picked up a few more shirts from a box on the ground next to him and threw them at Lin.
I stepped farther away as if to leave but kept watching the interaction.
Mr. Lin picked up one of the shirts and pulled at a button. “Perhaps local soap too harsh?”
“Perhaps you should stop importing such garbage and ripping off the entire continent.”
As Nigel marched out, I ducked down the hall and into an aisle of the store. If I started a conversation with Nigel, that would delay my meeting with Mr. Lin.
I waited for Nigel to leave and then returned to Mr. Lin’s door. He waved me in, shut the door behind me, and bowed his head. “Please accept my apology. I am terribly sorry. Mr. Lofty can be quite colonial sometimes.” He held out a hand to the chair in front of his desk. “Please, have seat.”
I smiled and sat down, nervous of his angle.
“You are new to the region?”
I nodded. “Relatively, yes.”
“My associates tell me you assist the ministry with elephant counting?”
“That’s right.” I couldn’t help noticing that Mr. Lin was floundering.
“It might interest you to know I have colleagues willing to help your efforts,” he said.
“What do you mean?”
“To help counting elephants, yes?”
“I appreciate the offer, but we can’t work outside the ministry.”
“But you work with Community Care? Nigel is your colleague, no?”
“He is. The game guards help with counts outside the park borders.”
“And you work with Induna Munali.”
“Where is this going, Mr. Lin?”
“Ms. Sohon, please, as a responsible businessman, it is in my best interest to keep track of activities in this town. There is much prejudice against me and my people—against the assistance we are trying to give to rural areas of this country. You see, we try to bring affordable goods to people with no access to goods unless they travel to cities. Most cannot do this. In fact, as special service, we even drive goods out to elders on pension day every month. We offer credit and loans to these people. It is very valuable service. But our successes make people very jealous. And some people try to sabotage our efforts.”
“Are you the one offering life insurance as well?”
“Sometimes we offer insurances, yes.”
I remembered the fraudulent life insurance policy sold to a San elder that Jon had showed me and thought we might as well skip the pleasantries. “I have seen one of your life insurance policies, and it’s criminal what you are doing.”
Mr. Lin calmly opened a drawer, pulling out a Dictaphone. “You think you are very clever working with local women to get information. You should know locals don’t trust the whites. Since independence, they try to remove them from every branch of government. Perhaps Jon hasn’t told you his position is threatened, or has he?”
“Why did you ask me to come here?”
“I hoped you ask me that very question.” Mr. Lin pressed the play button on the recorder and I froze as I listened to the conversation that I had had with Sianga at the prison. It sounded so clear, as if Sianga was taping the conversation. No one else had been close enough to get such a recording.
“They will kill him, you know.”
“Who will kill him? Who recorded this?”
“That is of little consequence. I am offering my help.”
“If you are offering me help, then help me understand your relationship to Dr. Geldenhuis.”
“He is an excellent doctor.”
“I see. That’s very informative. And your relationship to the witch doctor?”
“He is dead. Murdered most likely. Most unfortunate.”
“Okay, this is not very helpful information.” I knew I couldn’t expect a confession, so it seemed safer to leave at this point than to hear any more lies. I got up. “Thank you for sharing your thoughts, Mr. Lin. I’ll take this up with my boss.”
“We know about your activities in Hong Kong. We’ve been watching WIA. Craig Phipps runs an impressive operation. I would like to assist you in your efforts.”
I walked to the door. “How?”
Mr. Lin followed me to the door. “I have information on powerful organization.”
“The Sun Kwon Muk?”
Mr. Lin shook my hand and whispered, “How will you protect Mr. Sianga?”
“What do you mean?”
“What is your plan?”
I whispered, “Are you saying that you need protection?”
Mr. Lin let go of my hand and spoke loudly. “Thank you for your visit. I do hope you stop in again soon.”