An hour after her call, Chloe parked outside Rose’s cottage in her black Land Cruiser. Rose carried a small canvas overnight bag and a green canvas tote bag, into which she had remembered to put her glasses, as well as her phone and other items.
“Ready?” asked Chloe as she stepped out of the car and took Rose’s overnight bag. She stowed it in the boot of the car and said, “The police found Robert’s friend Vivian. So we’re picking her up from Kongoni’s.”
They drove out of Nanyuki, past the agricultural showground which doubled up as BATUK’s headquarters, and turned right.
The guard raised the barrier at the entrance to Kongoni’s camp and they drove down a track and parked by a single-storey building, whose whitewashed concrete walls did not have a single straight line. A glamorous dark-haired woman waited outside, tapping her foot. She wore a bright red dress and carried a wide-brimmed straw sunhat.
Chloe got out of the car and Rose heard her ask, “Are you Vivian?”
Both women were tall and attractive and Rose thought they looked like two wild horses, with their flowing manes of glossy hair. As they came face-to-face, each seemed to evaluate the other.
“Ye-es,” the woman dragged out the word in a condescending tone. “And you must be Chloe.”
Chloe replied, “We met here on Sunday, didn’t we? You came and joined me in the pool?”
“Did we? I can’t remember.” Vivian looked bored and shifted her gaze away from Chloe.
Chloe returned to the car with a pinched expression.
Vivian looked down at her bag, shrugged, picked it up and walked around to the passenger’s side. She jumped back when she saw Rose and her eyes widened. She quickly opened the rear passenger door and settled herself and her bag on the rear seats.
Chloe drove out of Kongoni’s and turned right towards Timau. There was an uncomfortable silence.
Rose took the opportunity to text Chris. When she’d finished, she stuffed her phone back into her tote bag. Chris would probably be appalled that she had left Craig and gone to Borana, and she didn’t want to hear a ping alerting her to his reply.
Finally, Vivian introduced herself, “Hi, I’m Vivian Scott.” Her voice was less harsh and had taken on a warmer tone, but somehow she still made the statement sound superior.
Chloe answered, “This is Rose. Our friends, Thabiti and Marina are managing the lodge where we’re all staying. I’ve just thought. It’s quite a coincidence that your surname is Scott and the lady who died was called Scott Watson. They’re not common names in Kenya.”
“Which is actually a surprise,” mused Vivian. “As there are many Europeans here whose ancestors arrived from Scotland, and they have names like Murray and Kennedy.”
“Or Hardie, like my own,” commented Rose.
Chloe slowed for a speed bump, and asked, “Were Craig’s parents from Scotland?”
Rose turned to her. “They were, but Craig wasn’t born here. He left Scotland in 1970 and moved here for a job. We met, got married, and this became his home.”
“How sweet,” cooed Vivian in a patronising tone.
Chloe turned to Rose and asked, “What is the lodge like?”
“Stunning,” replied Rose. “It’s constructed from local stone and has steep pitched thatched roofs. Most of the furniture is antique, which must have been imported, and it’s very tastefully decorated with some striking artwork. It’s rather fitting, considering that some orphan jackals are being rehabilitated close to the lodge, that a new painting, which the owners sent from the UK, is of a family of jackals. But I can’t remember the artist’s name.”
“Annabel Pope,” muttered Vivian in the back.
“That’s right,” agreed Rose.
“Oh, she’s painted some wonderful pictures,” Chloe said. “I recently saw one with three running ostriches in bright reds and greens and she’d captured their movement so well.”
There was silence again.