In the first session of the conference on Thursday morning, Kubu gave Mabaku’s paper. He was very nervous, not only about speaking in front of a large and critical audience but also about being faced with questions he might not be able to answer. However, Mabaku’s topic—the challenges of using high-tech detection and forensics in a developing country—appealed to many of the smaller and less affluent nations represented, whose problems were far away from art theft and nuclear power waste. The applause was warm, and the questions friendly and asked with genuine interest. Kubu enjoyed his moment in the limelight and returned to his seat with a warm feeling of a job well done. At least here, he’d not let Mabaku down.
His good mood was enhanced by the fact that he’d managed to change his flight to leave that evening. He’d persuaded himself that getting back to deal with the Mopati sting and what would develop from it was much more important than another day of boring talks. And returning to temperatures where you could walk outside without freezing was a bonus. However, he admitted to himself that the real reason for leaving a day early was that he wanted to get home. New York was great, and he was glad he’d had the opportunity to see a tiny part of it, but he wanted to be with his family. The next time I come to America, he thought, we’ll come together and take the girls to Disney World! He knew it wouldn’t happen—the cost would be far too high—but it was fun to dream.
He left the conference at lunchtime, hailed a cab like a real New Yorker, collected his bags at the hotel, and soon was on his way back to JFK. He now thought of himself as a seasoned traveler, confidently using the self-service check-in kiosks and taking off his shoes and belt to be X-rayed, while he stood with his arms above his head in the body scanner. After only half an hour of standing in various lines, he found himself in the departure area, faced with an array of shops and with time to kill. Everything was on sale and duty-free, and the temptation was too great. He had to buy gifts for the family.
For the girls, it was easy. He bought them each an “I Love New York” T-shirt with a picture of the Statue of Liberty on the front. For his mother, he bought a silk scarf with rainbow colors. It wasn’t really a souvenir from America since it was made in China, but he thought she’d love it anyway. It was a present for Joy that posed a real problem.
First, he thought perfume would be good, but he wasn’t sure what she liked. Then he passed a jewelry store and spotted a pair of twisted gold earrings marked 50 percent off. These he knew she would adore. Even with the discount, they were expensive for a Botswana detective. The shop assistant noticed his hesitation and said, “Shall I gift wrap them for you, sir? No extra charge.” Kubu grimaced and nodded.
* * *
THE FLIGHT HOME was much better than the journey out. Not only was the jet stream helping, but the flight to Johannesburg was nonstop, so it seemed much shorter. Best of all, there was a vacant seat next to Kubu, so he could spread out, lean his pillow against the window shade, and doze from time to time.
Nevertheless, by the time he arrived in Johannesburg, he was pretty shattered. Once more, he had to negotiate customs, immigration, and security, but all continued smoothly, and, for once, Air Botswana was on time. I’ll be home for dinner, he thought. Or is it lunch?
In any case, it was only a few more tiring hours before he carefully negotiated the steps down to the runway in Gaborone and was hit by a blast of dry hot air. He smiled. Fifteen minutes later, he had a child in each arm and a wife and mother whose smiles looked as though he’d just returned from months in the wilderness.
“Daddy, Daddy, we missed you,” Tumi yelled. “Did you take pictures? Did you bring us presents?” Joy started to scold her but then just laughed. In the meanwhile, Amantle was looking hard at Kubu’s face. “David, I can see your face is chapped from the cold. I told you that you needed a proper hat, but you didn’t listen!”
“I’m fine, Mother, and anyway I bought a hat,” Kubu said. To cheer her up, he added, “But it was very cold. Much colder than any of you can imagine.” He gave a theatrical shiver, much to the delight of the girls.
Once they got to the car, there was a huge welcome from Ilia to finesse, but eventually they were all settled with Joy driving, Kubu in front holding the fox terrier, and Amantle in the back with the girls talking nonstop.
And half an hour after that, he was home.