Thabiti drove east towards Lewa Conservancy. As he looked around, he felt alone and slightly afraid. Growing up, he’d spent most of his time in Kenya’s bustling capital city, Nairobi, with only the occasional trip to a safari lodge. And there had always been other people in charge. Other people to rely on.
He steadied the car as the black-soil road turned a corner into a hidden dip. He always thought of the savannah as vast open plains which were predominantly flat, but Borana was not like that. There were many rocky outcrops, numerous low hills, and small, concealed dells.
The landscape often appeared empty as the changing terrain seemed to break up the view and camouflage the wildlife. Here, animals tended to be in smaller groups, often hidden in the contours of the lands. But then he’d have a surprise, like now.
He slowed the car again and steadily passed a black rhino wrapping its mouth around the branch of a white thorn acacia bush. It seemed quite content being by itself in this vast landscape.
But what about Nina, all alone out here? What had made her wander off into the conservancy? If she’d wanted to visit the watering hole, to watch the animals in the early morning, why hadn’t she asked for a guide? He guessed this is what people referred to as the English reserve, and that she was more afraid of asking for someone’s help, than walking by herself in a dangerous wildlife area.
A discrete sign told him he was passing into Lewa Conservancy and two miles further on he spotted some of the marathon tents. There were fewer of them, and the starting line had been dismantled, but people were wandering around and there was a cluster of tables and chairs by a catering tent.
He parked next to the tent and recognised the catering company as the Rusty Nail, who had served food at the Rhino Charge at the beginning of May. His first experience of that event was not one he cared to remember.
“Thabiti,” a voice shouted. “Is Marina not feeding you?”
He looked around in confusion and spotted Sam, sitting with Judy, several tables away. He joined them and his stomach grumbled as he smelt their partially eaten egg and bacon breakfast rolls. “Habari. Actually, I haven’t had a chance to eat breakfast yet.”
Sam leaned forward. “If you’ve sacrificed your breakfast, it means that something important has happened or there’s trouble. Which is it?”
Thabiti looked down and played with the thousand bob note he’d found in his pocket. “Trouble. But I’m starving. Can I get some breakfast and then tell you?” He looked up at Sam and then away at the Rusty Nail Catering tent. There was no queue.
“Off you go,” said Sam. “I know you think better with something in your stomach.”
Thabiti returned to the table with a breakfast roll and a Stoney Tangawizi ginger beer. He took a grateful bite out of his roll.
“So,” said Sam. “Mama Rose is staying at the lodge and there is trouble. What a surprise.” He tapped a finger on the table.
Thabiti swallowed and responded, “It’s nothing to do with Mama Rose. You see, we’ve an English couple staying with us, friends of the owners. Well actually, I’m not sure they are friends.”
Thabiti picked at the label on his bottle of Tangawizi. “Anyway, the owners offered them the use of the lodge over the marathon weekend. The husband, Robert, I don’t like him. He’s rude and … pretentious. But his wife is sweet. She’s called Nina, and I think she’s quite a bit younger than he is. Anyway, they both ran in the half marathon yesterday and Nina was tired so she didn’t join us for supper. But.”
Thabiti stopped and took a swig of his ginger beer.
Judy, who’d been silent up to now, leaned forward and asked, “Has something happened to this Nina?”
Thabiti swallowed and nodded. He looked at her and then back at his bottle. “She’s missing. Pearl saw her out walking this morning, but she didn’t return.”
“I presume you’ve looked all around the lodge,” the young constable probed.
Thabiti looked up. “It was the first thing Marina did. She organised a group of staff and guests to search all over the lodge and the grounds.”
Sam sat up and crossed his arms, and his jaw was set into a serious expression. “But there was no sign of the English woman.”
Thabiti looked around the camp and back at the table. “No. Mama Rose suggested I drive into the conservancy and look for her there, but it’s far too big for me to search properly, particularly with all the hills and hidden hollows. Anyway, I didn’t find her, either.”
“And there was no other sign of her?” Judy picked up a white paper cup and drank her tea.
“Julius said he saw someone in the conservancy, close to his jackal pen. And a little later the sound of a car engine.”
“Who is Julius?” Judy asked.
“Oh, he’s the head warden at the Mount Kenya Animal Orphanage. He and Mama Rose are releasing some young jackals back into the wild. Anyway, he told Mama Rose what he’d seen, so she and Marina started their own search of the conservancy.”
Thabiti rubbed the back of his neck. “I met them at a watering hole where we’d previously had sundowners and next to it, in a clearing in some whistling thorn trees, we found Nina’s hat. And I found what looked like a tyre mark in the wet ground.”
Thabiti took another gulp of his Tangawizi. He leaned back and felt the blood rush to his face. He wasn’t used to making such long speeches.
Sam placed both of his arms on the table and leaned forward. “So you think someone either took Nina or she’d arranged to meet someone there. Either way, she’s disappeared.”
Judy looked from Thabiti to Sam and said, “Just because you found her hat in a clearing with a tyre mark, it doesn’t mean she left in the car. She could still be out in the conservancy.”
“Dead or alive,” conceded Sam in a sombre tone.