Christine broke the speed limit. Even by South African standards her driving was maniacal.
She had been on her way to the Sabi Sand Game Reserve, to meet with Craig at Lion Plains, when Tumi had called. Tumi gave her directions to the huts they had been staking out. Craig was also en route, although he was coming from deep within the Lion Plains property where he and a forensics team had been investigating the death of yet another rhino.
Christine had asked Craig not to tell the police about the bomb Sean had just found, and while he had been initially hesitant he had eventually agreed to her wishes.
Christine gripped the wheel hard to stop herself from falling apart. She could not shake the feeling that if something terrible happened to Sean it would be all her fault. Why, she asked herself, had she been irresponsible enough to tell him to start acting like some amateur sleuth? Sean and his dog Benny had been trained to detect IEDs in Afghanistan, and while Sean had said that what he’d found was a ‘simple’ IED, she was already starting to regret not calling for the South African National Defence Force bomb squad that was temporarily based at Skukuza.
She raced past the turnoffs to the settlements of Belfast and Huntington, and the back of her bakkie went into a drift as she took the turnoff to Shaw’s Gate at a dangerous speed. She was thrown against the door as she fought to regain control of the vehicle, then geared down, planted the accelerator and tore up the dirt road that Tumi had described to her.
‘Please, God,’ she said aloud as she bumped along the track.
Tumi was standing about fifty metres from the pair of huts, Shikar and Clyde sitting obediently on either side of her. Christine drove up as close as she could and got out.
‘He’s still in there,’ Tumi said.
Christine did not know Tumi well, though she thought she detected a slight tone of resentment, which made Christine feel even guiltier. ‘I told him he didn’t need to try and disarm it if he didn’t want to.’
‘I said the same thing to him.’ Tumi put her hands on her hips. ‘He told me you wanted us to do our own investigating. I know I’m the junior on the team and it’s not my place to say anything, but I hope to God you know what you’re doing.’
‘Me as well.’ Christine started towards the huts, but Tumi grabbed her arm.
Christine shook off Tumi’s hand and glared at her. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’
‘Sean gave me strict instructions that no one – not even you – was to disturb him.’
Christine took a deep breath. ‘All right. Sean told me on the phone that you’d been tailing a suspect, possibly the person who planted this bomb.’
She nodded. ‘I’ve got his name and phone number.’
‘Good work.’
‘I’m sorry for speaking harshly just then, Christine,’ Tumi said. ‘Sean told me before that we’re partners, him and me, and it’s tearing me up thinking of him inside with that thing.’
The truth was that Christine was one hundred per cent sure she felt far worse than Tumi did. This was the man she had loved, and her reckless decision to pursue a rogue investigation could cost Sean his life, or result in him being seriously wounded and disabled. What have I done?
Tumi laid a hand on her arm, gently this time. ‘You’re doing the right thing. Sean told me you know people in America who can help us. I’m not sure we can trust our own cops to get to the bottom of this and if it turns out, as Sean thinks, that we’re dealing with poachers based in Mozambique, the South African Police will have a hard time getting to them. The guy I was following told me he’s on his way to Mozambique, so that’s almost proof enough.’
‘I . . .’ Christine didn’t finish what she was about to say because Sean emerged from the hut carrying what looked like a plastic water bottle with wires and other components taped to it. She ran to him.
He smiled. ‘Fancy seeing you here.’
Christine started to cry.
He reached out with his free hand and took hers. ‘It’s OK.’
‘I was so worried about you,’ Christine sniffed.
‘I’m fine. As far as IEDs goes it wasn’t particularly smart or overly dangerous.’ He held up the bottle and she saw pink liquid sloshing about inside. ‘Petrol. It’s an incendiary device, a firebomb. There’s just enough explosive to set off the fuel and burn the place down by igniting the thatch roof, where we found it.’
‘Why?’
Sean shrugged. ‘There’s a timer, it’s set for an hour from now, so we only got it just in time. My guess is it was designed to obliterate any trace of whoever was here.’
‘Put that thing down,’ she said to him.
Sean looked at her, not comprehending, but did as she asked, setting the IED down in the grass. She came to him, wrapped her arms around him and said into his ear, ‘Thank you.’
Tentatively, he put his hands on her back.
Christine heard a vehicle approaching and looked over her shoulder to see Craig’s bakkie. He pulled up and got out and ran to them. Christine broke from the hug and took a step back.
‘Sean, boet, are you all right?’
Christine’s eyes flicked from man to man. Craig’s words of concern weren’t echoed in his curt tone.
Sean’s face was unsmiling. ‘I’m fine.’
Craig put his hands on his hips. ‘Good. Now explain to me what the hell you were playing at? You’re not a bomb disposal guy! Sheesh, you could have been killed. Why didn’t you call me, or call the cops?’
Christine stepped between the two men and looked at Craig. ‘It was my call. I told Sean to keep a lookout for evidence that we could use to try and get a handle on the bombmakers.’
‘What are you doing going behind my back, Christine?’
‘I was going to tell you,’ she said to Craig. ‘But you’ve been busy with the police. I’ve got a friend, from my days in Afghanistan, who works for the FBI in their terrorist bomb research centre. She said if I can get her something our bomber has touched or a sample of his work she can run it through their databases.’
Craig took a deep breath and nodded. ‘Ja, OK. Makes sense, but we can do both – maybe send this person in the States some pictures and schematics, and also hand this device over to the local police. You can’t go off reservation like this, Christine.’
She glared at him. He was right, and that was what frustrated her. She had been reckless because she was desperate. The thought made her realise that what had just happened illustrated a key difference between Sean and Craig. Sean, despite his quiet and almost gentle persona, was also a risk-taker – it was no wonder he was addicted to gambling. Craig, on the other hand, was straight down the line, a good leader who followed the rules and expected those around and under him to do the same. On the day Sean and Craig’s patrol had been ambushed in Afghanistan, Sean had run forward to rescue his friend, even though Benny had indicated the presence of a second IED.
Christine swallowed her anger. ‘All right.’
‘Who’s running this company?’ Sean said.
Both Craig and Christine looked at him and Christine noticed that Tumi had moved closer, her curiosity clear in her expression. Christine felt her cheeks start to burn. ‘I own this company, Sean, as you very well know, and Craig is our operations manager. I should have consulted him before I sent you looking for evidence.’
‘It’s all right, Chris,’ Craig said. ‘I have no doubt you would have told me.’
‘Ja, a bit of pillow talk,’ Sean said.
Christine rolled her eyes, and saw Tumi put her hand over her mouth.
Craig took a menacing step towards Sean. ‘Do we have a problem, boet?’
Christine saw Sean’s hands turn into fists. He stuck his jaw forward. ‘You’re both free, single and over twenty-one, boet. I don’t see why you thought you needed to sneak around like some cheating bastard.’
Craig’s nostrils flared. ‘Maybe we were thinking of your feelings.’
‘Please, do we have to do this now?’ Christine asked.
Tumi stepped into the ring that had formed between the other three. ‘Sean, how about we go and check on Benny. Also, I’d be really interested to learn how the firebomb was going to work. Maybe you could show me the different components while you photograph it, before we take it to the police? What do you say?’
Christine closed her eyes and said a silent prayer of thanks that she had employed Tumi.
Sean shot Christine a look that could have penetrated a flak jacket. ‘Please look after Clyde for me.’
He picked up the bomb and walked away, with Tumi and Shikar on his heels.
*
Tumi drove to Hazyview and Sean sat in the front of the car, brooding. Shikar was in the back.
‘What went on back there is none of my business, Sean, but are you OK?’
He looked across at her. She was pretty and smart and she should have been a veterinarian, like old Graham who they were going to see now. Tumi was turning into a good dog handler despite her unfortunate start, but she was also changing in other ways. She was getting tougher, more street-smart, less academic, though she had a good mind. ‘No. But you’re right, it’s none of your business.’
Tumi said nothing more until she stopped the car outside the veterinary surgery and they got out. She told Shikar to stay.
‘What you did today was very brave,’ Tumi said to Sean.
‘It was borderline stupid.’ He stopped. ‘You, however, showed courage coming to that braai to face Oliver and then going straight back to work after you got blown up. Christine’s instincts were right; we have to have the guts to go after these people ourselves because even if the police do get off their arses and find out who’s been making and planting these IEDs, it’s highly likely they’ll find out the bastards are in Mozambique and they won’t be able to do anything about them.’
Tumi frowned. ‘She cares about you.’
‘Who, Christine?’
‘Duh,’ Tumi said. ‘Men are so stupid. Zali might be your girlfriend, but Christine’s still got a thing for you.’
‘We’re divorced,’ Sean said.
‘Yes, but she still loves you.’
‘She left me,’ Sean said.
‘That doesn’t mean she stopped loving you.’
He sighed. ‘I’m a gambler, Tumi. I sent her bankrupt – stole from my own wife. She was right to leave me.’ He turned away sharply. ‘I have to get my dog.’
‘OK.’
They went into the surgery. Graham Baird was handing a cat over to a blonde woman.
‘Miaow Miaow will be good as new, Patricia,’ Dr Baird said to the cat’s owner, ‘just try and keep her away from the hyenas.’
‘Sure thing, Doc, thanks. Bye.’
Sean held the door open for the woman, who left.
‘Howzit, Graham,’ Sean said.
‘Fine, and you?’ the vet said. ‘And hello, Tumi.’
‘Hi, Doc. How’s Gemma doing?’ Tumi asked.
Graham shrugged. ‘She’s sedated, again, and I’m treating her for an infection from all the muck and bits of shrapnel that entered her wounds. If she pulls through, and I have to tell you it’s a big “if”, Tumi, she should be able to walk on three legs, but with only one eye she’s going to need some looking after.’
‘I’ve already decided I’ll take her if she makes it.’
Sean looked at her. He swallowed hard. Seeing or hearing about injured animals always brought him close to losing it. ‘That looked like an African wildcat that woman had just now, Graham.’
‘It was,’ Graham said. ‘Patricia and her husband manage a game lodge. Miaow Miaow is something of a pet; she comes and goes but the resident hyenas are always gunning for her. She was lucky to escape her last tussle with them. Benny’s out the back, he seems keen to get away.’
Sean smiled. ‘No offence, Graham, but he hates you.’
‘He joins a long and esteemed list of many people and a few animals, then.’
Benny began barking at the sound of Sean’s voice. ‘How is he, Doc?’
‘Benny’s almost as good as new – for a dog who’s taken a bullet, of course. The damage wasn’t as bad as it would have looked, and I’ve stitched him up. To be honest it’s not much worse than another dog might have inflicted on him. He’s almost given up trying to rip the sutures out with his teeth.’
‘He wants to get back to work.’
‘No doubt.’
‘Thanks, Doc, give me the bill and I’ll do a bank transfer.’
‘No problem.’
They went through to the back of the surgery where an assortment of dogs, cats, birds and even a baby duiker were in scrupulously clean pens. Benny jumped up on his hind legs and barked even louder.
‘Hello, boy.’
Tumi went to Gemma, knelt down beside her and stroked her coat. She seemed barely aware of anything.
Sean couldn’t watch too much of that. He picked Benny up in a bear hug, moved him out of the pen and set him down. He ruffled his fur under his neck.
‘Yes, yes, I know you want to be gone, Benny. No need to thank me,’ Graham said.
‘Doc, what paperwork do I need to take Benny into Mozambique?’ asked Sean.
‘Nothing too onerous. You need a certificate of vaccination against rabies – I gave Benny his shot within the required twelve months so I can do you one of those; tick and tapeworm treatment within ten days of travel; and a veterinary health certificate, which I can download and complete for you when you need it. When were you thinking of travelling?’
‘Now.’
‘Sean?’ Tumi looked up from her spot on the floor next to Gemma.
He ignored her. ‘Can you do all the paperwork now, please, Doc?’
‘I don’t see why not. Oh, there’s one more thing. You also need an import certificate. You’re supposed to apply for that in advance, but you know what the border’s like – cash is king.’
‘Sean, we can’t go to Mozambique,’ Tumi said. She gave Gemma a final pat then stood up.
Graham looked to Tumi, then back at Sean.
‘Just do the paperwork, or as much as you can, please, Doc,’ Sean said.
Tumi stamped her foot. ‘Sean.’
‘Yes?’
She lowered her voice. ‘You’re going to follow the boy with the gun to Mozambique, aren’t you?’
He nodded. ‘You said you got his phone number; well done. Give it to me, please.’
‘No.’
‘What do you mean, no?’
‘No, I’m not giving you the number.’
He exhaled. ‘Yes, you are.’
‘No, I’m not, unless Shikar and I go with you.’
‘Tumi . . .’
She looked to Graham. ‘Please do the same paperwork for my dog, as well, Dr Baird. She’s outside. I’ll go get her.’