CHAPTER
EIGHT

“What do we do now?” said Zoe.

“Angkasa knew about the poachers,” answered Ben. “Maybe we can ask her a few more questions without frightening her off.”

They set off through the village, but there was no sign of the fruit stall today.

“What have you done to yourself?” said a voice. It was Catur. He came out of his shop and took Ben’s hands. He looked concerned.

“I…slipped over,” said Ben.

“I can sell you something to make it heal.” Catur gestured towards his shop. “Come inside.”

Ben and Zoe followed him in. Beads and brooches and carved wooden animals were displayed on a long table, next to a row of bottles containing richly coloured powders and pills. There were some pretty rings displayed on the back wall, beside a curtained opening. Zoe went over to have a look. She knew Gran would like them.

Catur picked up a small pot of bright red ointment. “This is a salve made from the lipstick tree. It helps to keep wounds clean.” He opened the lid and let Ben sniff at it.

As Zoe examined the rings she had a sudden thought. Catur might know something about the man that Angkasa had mentioned. But how could she bring up the subject of poaching without explaining why they wanted to know?

“This ointment is very good,” Catur was saying. “But if you are willing to pay a bit more I have something…special… in my storeroom.” He gestured towards the curtain. “Guaranteed to heal those wounds quickly. I don’t tell everyone about it, but I like you two.”

Suddenly alarm bells started ringing in Zoe’s head. There was a sly sound to Catur’s voice. And what did he mean by “special”? She exchanged a quick glance with Ben. She could see he had the same suspicion as her. Was Catur the “bad man” Angkasa had told them about? Was he dealing in animal parts and making ointments out of tiger bones?

“We haven’t got much money on us at the moment,” she said. “So we’ll stick with the salve.”

“Of course,” said Catur smoothly. “But do come back if you need anything…else.”

As soon as they’d left the shop, Ben pulled Zoe into the gap between two of the wooden houses.

“We’ll certainly be back,” he muttered. “And sooner than he thinks.”

“You’ve got that look again,” said Zoe.

“What are you planning?”

“It sounds as if Catur could be linked to the poachers,” Ben told her. “But we must make sure we’ve got the right man this time.”

“And how do you plan to do that?” demanded Zoe. “We can’t ask him.”

“I’m going to get a look inside that storeroom,” said Ben. “Let’s see if there’s another way in.”

They crept along past compost heaps and chicken runs until they came to the back of Catur’s shop.

“There’s a door,” said Ben. “Now here’s your part in the plan. Keep him busy while I search.”

“OK,” said Zoe. “But be careful. Remember what Uncle Stephen said. The poachers are dangerous.” She grinned. “I forgot to get a ring for Gran!” she said brightly. “See you in a minute.” She darted off.

Ben waited until he heard Zoe’s voice ringing out. “I can’t decide,” she was saying loudly. “Could you take them out the front so I can get a better look in the light?”

Ben gingerly opened the back door of the shop and crept in. The storeroom was hot and gloomy, lit only by a small, dirty window. There were shelves piled high with tins and packets. Ben inspected them. This was the ordinary stock for the shop. He pulled out some cans of baked beans to see if there was anything hidden behind, but he found only a few dead flies.

“The green one is nice…” He could hear Zoe chattering on.

He noticed a shabby chest of drawers in the corner. He pulled open the top drawer, wincing as it squeaked. It was full of jars and boxes. Ben picked up a small glass bottle, containing what looked like strands of wire. Then he opened a box and nearly dropped it in shock. It was full of dried eyeballs!

Gross! he thought. And that wasn’t wire.It was whiskers.

He opened the second drawer. There was something rolled up in brown paper, like a small rug. He uncurled an edge and found himself staring at a beautiful orange and black striped pelt.

Then he heard a muttered voice from the shop.

“I want to talk to you, Catur! Come with me.”

The translated words rang in his ear. That wasn’t Zoe. It was a man and footsteps were approaching! They were heading across the wooden floor of the shop – straight towards the storeroom. There was no time to get out. Ben squeezed into the tiny gap between the chest of drawers and the wall as the curtain was flung aside. Too late he realised he’d left the drawer open.

“You shouldn’t be seen here,” he heard Catur snap.

“I wouldn’t be here if you’d told me what’s happening.” It was the other man again. “When we didn’t hear from you we started to think you were planning to do the job yourself and take all the money.” He gave a cold laugh. “Then we’d have had to…see to you as well as the tiger.”

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Ben listened intently.

“You’re crazy.” Catur laughed coldly. “How could I cheat you, my friend? We’re all in this together…we’re like brothers. Meet me at the usual place at nightfall and I’ll tell you the plan. Now go.”

And we’re going to be there to hear it, too, thought Ben.

He heard the stranger barge his way out of the back door. Then with horror he realised that Catur was coming over to where he was hiding. He tried to edge further back, but there was nowhere to go. He was going to be caught. Thump! Catur slammed the drawer shut then stomped back into his shop. Ben sagged with relief. He eased himself out of his hiding place, peered round the door to make sure the coast was clear, and slipped outside.

He sauntered round to the front of the shop. “Hurry up, Zoe,” he called, pretending to be annoyed.

Zoe bounded out to join him. “Is he a poacher?” she whispered.

Ben nodded. “And we’re going to follow him tonight and find out his plans.”

“Stake-out time.” Zoe grinned. “That mango tree looks shady. We could spend the afternoon there.”

“Mango,” said Ben. “Delicious. Lead me to it!”

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The sun was low over the trees when Catur locked up his shop. He hurried along a path towards the forest. Zoe quickly aimed the tracker, but Ben put his hand on her arm. “Too risky,” he said. “We can’t do anything that might alert him. He’s sharp, this one.”

Keeping to the shadows, they set off in pursuit, following the poacher’s bobbing flashlight. It was dark by the time he came to a rough hut, half-covered in vines. Ben and Zoe crouched down behind a pitcher plant, its large, cup-like leaves heavy with water. They slipped on their night goggles and put in their earphones so that they could hear the conversation translated. Two men were waiting for Catur on the veranda.

“That tall one with the big nose was the man in the shop,” whispered Zoe. “He looks mean.”

“And the short one’s not much better,” Ben replied. “We’ve got to be ultra careful.”

As soon as the men had gone inside the hut, Ben and Zoe crept up and hid under a window.

“I’ve been to the den,” came Catur’s voice. “It was empty. So the cubs are out. This is the moment we’ve been waiting for. We must act quickly before any goodygoody sanctuary gets wind of it.”

“Then we’ll do it tonight.” This was Big Nose. “Our client doesn’t want to be disappointed.”

“She won’t be.” Catur sounded sure of himself. “We’ll place the trap at Silent Water – the tiger always drinks there. I’ve dug a hole ready to put it in. Then we’ll come back here and wait in comfort. The trap has an electronic lock. The moment it’s sprung, an alarm goes off on my remote. And there’s no danger that any other creature will be tempted by the goat we’ll use as bait – I got some of the tiger’s dung from the empty den and smeared it on the skin of the male we killed last month. We’ll hang it right by the trap. That should put off any other animals. They’ll not risk running into a tiger.”

“Why don’t we lie in wait for her?” This was Shorty speaking. “We don’t want to miss her.”

“Don’t be stupid,” scoffed Catur. “She’d smell us before we even knew she was there. No, my friends, this is the way. We trap them then shoot them. A tiger in a cage is an easy target. But be careful where you aim. We don’t want to damage the skins!”

Ben and Zoe gazed at each other in horror.