Kubu walked into the tiny living room, where his mother was sitting. Two elderly neighbors were next to her, and the rest were standing, talking quietly.
“Thank you all so much for being here,” he said. Despite his grief, he couldn’t help wondering how they came to be there. Had Amantle gone next door to get support, or had Mabaku called them?
“Oh, Kubu,” one of the ladies said. “I am so pleased you are here. It is such a tragedy. What is the world coming to?”
Kubu, he thought. Even among my parents’ friends, I’m Kubu. Somehow tonight he wanted to be David, the name his father and mother had given him, rather than his childhood nickname of Hippo that had stuck. But he said nothing like that to the kindly neighbor.
“Thank you so much for being here, Mma Ngombe,” he said instead as he sat down next to his mother, who was struggling to stand to greet her son.
“Don’t get up, Mother. I’m here.” Kubu didn’t know what else to say.
He put his arms around her and held her close. They both started crying.
“It is so terrible,” Amantle whispered. “Your father never hurt anyone. Everyone loved him. Why would someone want to kill him?”
The two of them rocked gently back and forth.
“I cannot believe he is gone. What am I going to do?”
“Mother, you’ll come and stay with us. You can’t stay here alone.”
“You do not have the room, and all my friends are here.”
“Let’s not talk about it now, Mother. We can discuss it in the morning.”
Kubu looked up at the two neighbors. “Who told you?”
Mma Ngombe shook her head. “We woke up because of the lights on the police car. I think it was your boss. Edwin went out to see what was happening. When he heard, he thought Amantle would need me. He went and woke up Lizzie and her husband, and the two of us came over.”
“Aaii! I thought Amantle would die also,” Lizzie said. “It is a tragedy.”
Kubu pulled his mother closer. “Mother, did Director Mabaku ask you any questions?”
“Yes. He was very kind. He just asked if Wilmon said why he was going out tonight or where he was going. Or if he seemed nervous or different.”
“What did you say? Was Father behaving strangely?”
“Well, you know he has been struggling recently. But tonight he seemed excited. He did not even finish his supper. And he kept looking at his watch. He said he was going to meet a friend. I told him he should not go out alone at night. That he would get lost. But he just said he would not be long. And about eight he left.”
She started to cry.
“I told him he was being an old fool. I should never have said that.”
Her body shook in Kubu’s arms.
“I never saw him again!”
“It’s not your fault, Mother. He knew you always loved him. And he loved you too. More than he could show, I think.”
Kubu patted his mother on her back.
“I think you should try to get some sleep now. I’m sure the police will want to talk to you again tomorrow. I’ll pull the other bed out of your bedroom and sleep here.”
He turned to everyone in the room. “Thank you all for being here. I really appreciate it.”
Kubu let go of Amantle and stood up. He took her by the hand. “Come on, Mother. Try to get some sleep.”
* * *
EVEN THOUGH IT was two in the morning, Kubu knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep, so he went out to the veranda and sat in the cool air.
I owe everything I have to my parents, he thought.
It was his father who had insisted that Kubu have the best education available; it had been his father who had approached their priest to arrange a scholarship for Kubu to Maru-a-Pula school—a school no poor family like Kubu’s would ever be able to afford.
He took a deep breath.
And it was his father who had served the community for years as a wise man and excellent traditional healer. Everyone trusted him.
He brought his fist down on the arm of the chair.
“Damn you! Damn you, you bastard.”
He stood up and gazed across the sleeping houses. Somewhere out there is a murderer, my father’s murderer, he thought.
He kicked at the veranda wall.
“Damn you, whoever you are. Damn you!”
“There’s nowhere for you to hide!” Kubu said, anger boiling inside him. “You’re not going to get away with this!”
Suddenly, he wanted to see his father’s body. To see what the murderer had done. And to say good-bye.
He hurried down the steps and walked briskly toward where the body had been found. He hoped it was still there and hadn’t been taken to the mortuary at Princess Marina Hospital.
As he rounded the corner on Litabi Street, he stopped. Halfway down the block was the familiar sight of police cars with flashing lights, people milling about, constables keeping a few gawking spectators in pajamas and dressing gowns from encroaching on the crime scene, and a solitary ambulance, rear doors open.
He took a deep breath and walked toward where his father must be lying.
As he approached the yellow police tape, a constable he didn’t recognize stopped him. “Sorry, rra. You can’t go any further. This is a crime scene.”
“I know it’s a crime scene,” Kubu snapped. “I’m with the CID.”
“I’m sorry, rra. I’ve orders not to let anyone in.”
“It’s my father who’s been murdered!” Kubu shouted. He pushed the constable aside, ducked under the tape, and strode toward the center of the action.
“Stop him!” the constable shouted. “Stop him.”
Everyone turned to see what the shouting was about.
A second constable joined the first, and they grabbed Kubu’s arms and pushed him back.
Kubu tried in vain to break free, but the men were young and strong.
“Go back, rra,” the one said. “You’re not allowed in here.”
Suddenly, Kubu saw Mabaku striding toward him.
“Let him go,” Mabaku told the constables.
They dropped Kubu’s arms but stayed close.
“Kubu, you can’t come in here. I know you want to see your father, but you’ll have to wait for a few days. This is off-limits to you.”
“But…”
Mabaku put his hand on Kubu’s shoulder. “Go home, Kubu. Get some sleep. There’s nothing you can do here except cause problems later on. Go home, my friend.” He turned to one of the constables. “Get a car and take him home.”
Mabaku turned Kubu and led him away.
Kubu’s head dropped, and his anger was replaced with resignation.
“I’m sorry, Jacob. I can’t believe he’s gone.”
“None of us can. But we’ll catch the bastard who did it.”