It was late the next morning when another police Land Rover arrived. It didn’t come from the same direction as the others, but from the airstrip. Crys figured they’d gone there before coming to the camp. The detective had probably wanted to get his head around the crime scene first.
The driver pulled up in the shade of a large mahogany tree, and he and his passenger climbed out. The passenger was obviously the detective – a large, overweight man in plain clothes with damp sweat marks under his arms. He looked hot and tired and not very smart. Crys guessed that the interviews wouldn’t take very long.
The detective walked up and looked at Bongani and Crys in turn. Then he said to Crys, ‘I am Colonel Mabula. You are…?’
‘I’m Crystal Nguyen. I’m on a safari from Tshukudu Lodge. And this is Bongani Chikosi, who works for Tshukudu.’
Mabula nodded, looking them up and down – a little rudely, Crys thought. But then she reminded herself what he must have heard about what had happened.
‘Let us get out of the sun,’ he said at last. ‘And could we get something cold to drink?’
‘May I offer you a beer?’ Crys asked, thinking that it would start things off on the right note.
‘No, thank you, I’m on duty. Cold water would be fine.’
He took over the dining area and, once Crys delivered the water, asked them to wait until he called them. They found what shade they could from the jackalberry tree, and sat down and watched while Mabula and Nkomo had a long discussion at the table. Bongani murmured a translation to Crys, covering his mouth with his hand.
‘Well, sergeant. What do you think?’ Colonel Mabula got straight to the point.
‘Sir, I took statements from both of them. Here they are.’ Nkomo handed over his spiral-bound notebook.
Mabula opened it and read both statements carefully.
‘I’m pleased you have a good handwriting, sergeant. I could read most of what you wrote.’
‘Thank you, sir.’
‘What’s your impression of the two?’
Nkomo took a few moments before answering. ‘I interviewed them separately, of course, and asked them a lot of questions. Their stories were very much the same.’
‘Do you think the stories are true? Or did they just agree to say the same lies?’
‘I think the stories are true. But they both seemed very nervous.’
Mabula took out a handkerchief and wiped his forehead.
‘This woman…’ He checked the statement again. ‘Naguwhen, as you’ve written it here. She is from Vietnam?’
‘She is from America, she said. A reporter.’
‘She is Vietnamese,’ Mabula said firmly. ‘Is this supposed to be coincidence? And this man, Ho, who was killed in the vehicle. He is also Vietnamese. Did they say he had anything with him apart from these documents?’
The sergeant shook his head.
‘Did you ask them?’
Again, Nkomo shook his head, looking a bit puzzled.
Mabula watched him for a few moments, saying nothing. Then he asked, ‘Did they do anything or say anything after you’d taken their statements that made you suspicious?’
‘No. They were helpful and polite.’
Mabula sat for a few minutes, then said, ‘We’ll see. Please ask the woman to come here. While I talk to them, you and your men will search the camp.’
Nkomo jumped up, but Mabula stopped him. ‘Carefully, Sergeant Nkomo – you must search the camp very carefully.’
‘Yes, sir,’ Nkomo responded. Then he went to fetch Crys.
She walked to the dining area, her anxiety like a hard ball in her belly.
Once she’d sat down, Mabula fixed her with a stare that seemed to go on forever. ‘I read your statement,’ he said eventually, ‘but I want to hear your story directly from you. Please tell me everything – from the beginning.’
Crys started with Bongani waking her up in the middle of the night and went from there. Mabula sat sipping his water and listening to her without comment, until she came to the elephant episode.
‘He shot this elephant?’ he interrupted. ‘He had no authority to do that.’
‘The animal was suffering…’
‘This was not your decision. You should have left it for the authorities.’
‘We needed to get to the plane. We thought the people inside might have been injured, and it wasn’t possible with all the elephants around.’
And she wanted to see if there was a connection to Michael.
‘We assumed we could shoot it if human lives were in danger,’ she said.
He didn’t look convinced, but he waved his hand. ‘Go on.’
‘After that I climbed into the plane. There was only the pilot there. He was slumped over the controls, and I thought he was dead. I tried to find a pulse, but I couldn’t feel one. So, I lifted his head—’
‘Why did you move the body?’
‘I wanted to double check he was dead.’
‘And when you did, you saw that he had been shot?’
‘Yes, right in the head.’
He considered this for a moment. ‘Do you have any firearms other than the hunting rifle, Mrs Nguyen?’
‘No, not here.’
‘Where then?’
‘I have some guns at home in Minnesota in the US. For target shooting.’
‘Handguns?’
‘No!’ she was sweating now. What was he implying? ‘Are you suggesting I shot the pilot?’
‘I’m not suggesting anything. Continue with your story…’
He let her summarise the story up till when she and Bongani went back to the plane.
‘Why did you do that? Why didn’t you just wait for the police?’
‘We thought someone else – another man – might be injured. There was blood outside the plane. And there are lions and hyenas … and the elephants…’ Crys realised it didn’t sound so convincing now, sitting there at the camp.
‘Well, you found what you were looking for.’ Mabula gestured with his head behind her. She knew he meant the Land Rover, and Ho’s dead body.
‘Actually, he found us.’
Crys described how they’d followed Ho’s trail, and how he’d shot at them from the rocks. ‘But we had a rifle, and he only had a handgun. So eventually, well, he gave up.’
He nodded and made a couple of notes on his pad. He seemed fine with her story. But his next question shook her. She realised she’d badly underestimated Colonel Mabula.
‘What did he have with him?’
‘With him?’ Crys fiddled with her hair, winding it around her finger. When she realised what she was doing, she held her hands in her lap to prevent them from fidgeting. ‘Nothing. Just the gun, which he threw down. Actually, he had another gun – which I stupidly missed when I searched him—’
‘What did you find when you searched him?’ he interrupted.
‘His … his passport and … some papers and money. In his wallet. It’s still there.’ Crys was beginning to feel frazzled.
‘He had nothing with him of value? There was nothing in the plane?’
She almost blurted out the truth, but she felt something was wrong. Why did he think there was something else to the story? Was he in on it somehow? Was Bongani right – the police had been waiting for the briefcase of money, to take their cut?
She shook her head.
‘Mrs Nguyen—’
‘I’m Ms not Mrs,’ she interrupted. It was a mistake. She knew he was trying to rattle her, and he was succeeding.
He nodded, one eyebrow raised, and told her to continue. He let her finish the story of the drive back and Ho’s attempt to hijack them.
When Crys was done, he looked down at his notes, took a sip of water and glared at her. ‘I’m looking for a motive here, Ms Nguyen. Two men are dead. We think the first man was shot with the gun you say the second – Mr Ho – pulled on you. Mr Ho was beaten to death.’
‘He wasn’t beaten to death. He was hurt in the plane crash and then hit his head on the windshield. I told you what happened.’
‘My colleagues have examined him.’ Mabula wasn’t looking at her. He seemed to aim his words towards the trees. She knew it was to unnerve her. Then he turned his gaze back at her. ‘His neck was broken.’
She felt like she’d been punched. She hated this. She’d killed the man. But he would have killed them. She was sure of it. ‘He … he had a gun pointed at me. It was the only thing I could think of doing.’
‘We may have to open a manslaughter docket. Did you handle the pistol?’
Her prints would be on it. She couldn’t lie. ‘Yes, I picked it up. I didn’t want to leave it where the man could reach it! We didn’t know he was dead then.’
‘So, let’s look at your story, Ms Nguyen: a plane lands on a bush strip in the middle of the night in the middle of nowhere and crashes into an elephant. This man Ho shoots the pilot – the only person who might get him out of the mess. Perhaps he is angry because it was a bad landing? Do you think so?’ He waited until Crys shook her head. ‘Ho is also injured, but instead of waiting for rescue, he goes off into the night with the wild animals and the angry elephants and two handguns, which won’t help him much against them. And where do you think he was hoping to go? Maybe he thought he’d bump into someone to give him a lift to Phalaborwa or Giyani?’ He stopped again and stared at her.
Again, Crys thought of Bongani driving back at three in the morning. He’d said he’d been driving past the airstrip. But she couldn’t shake the idea that it was more than that; that he’d been working with Ho.
She realised Mabula was still waiting for her response and quickly shook her head.
‘But he’s lucky,’ Mabula went on. ‘You come along to rescue him. So, he shoots at you. Then he gives himself up, but then tries to hijack you.’
‘That’s what happened.’
‘All this … and he had nothing with him? Nothing of value?’
‘No! I keep telling you.’ She was thinking more and more that Bongani was right: the police cared more about money than dead bodies.
‘Ms Nguyen, you are lying to me. You are in a lot of trouble here. Two men are dead. Murdered. I’ve checked up on you. You are a newspaper reporter. Maybe you want a big story? A scoop?’ His voice grew louder, harder. ‘Don’t play games with me. We can throw you in jail like this.’ He snapped his fingers close to her face. ‘Now, do you have anything more to add to your story?’
‘No. No,’ she insisted. ‘I’ve told you the truth.
Just not all of it.
‘Very well, I will speak to Mr Chikosi now.’ And Crys was dismissed like a schoolgirl from the principal’s office.
She sat down under the jackalberry tree and breathed deeply, trying to calm her nerves. She was sure that Mabula had seen right through her. That he knew she was lying about not finding anything. She wondered if he would charge her with the murder of Ho.
Should she tell him about the money, then? Was it better to just tell him now? Maybe he’d let them go if he had what he wanted…
She closed her eyes and started softly chanting her mantra.
While Mabula questioned Bongani, the other police officers pulled Ho’s body from the Land Rover and placed it in a body bag. Then they collected his guns and quietly searched the camp from top to bottom. Crys wondered if you needed a warrant in South Africa to search a bush camp. She didn’t know, and she wasn’t going to challenge them. She just let them get on with it, watching from her position under the tree, her head still filled with confusing thoughts, and her anxiety on a rollercoaster as she worked through various ways this situation could play out.
The police found nothing, though – there was nothing to find without moving the Land Rover. She wondered if they were searching for clues or for money – or even rhino horn…
When Mabula had finished with him, Bongani joined Crys, and they both kept an eye on the police.
At last Mabula walked over to them. He didn’t look happy, but it seemed he’d had enough. He probably wanted to spend the night in his own bed.
‘I want to see you again in my office in Giyani tomorrow. I’m leaving a man here with you in case you need help.’ Crys didn’t believe for a minute that was the man’s real job. ‘Now, please give me your identification documents.’
Crys only had her Minnesota driver’s licence. She didn’t want to part with it, but had no choice.
‘Where’s your passport?’ Mabula asked.
‘I left it with the Malans at Tshukudu, for safekeeping.’
Bongani handed over his identity card, which Mabula scrutinised. Then he pocketed both cards and headed for his vehicle.
‘Thank God he’s gone,’ Crys said. ‘I’m sure he knows we’re lying about the money.’
‘He’s bluffing,’ Bongani replied. ‘He just wants us to think that.’
How could Bongani be so calm?
She was confused and scared, pulled in different directions. She’d hoped that the plane would yield some information that could be linked to what had happened to Michael, but she’d learned nothing. Instead, she was potentially in big trouble with the police.