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“He’s here to help.”
“Himself, B? Yeah, I bet he is.”
“Chisulo, we think he can help Kam,” Saiida put in softly once Bach had thrown up his hands in annoyance. She was applying a salve to the doctor’s bloodied and bruised face.
Chisulo didn’t appear at all guilty. He continued to glare at the man as though he were eager for another chance to land a blow.
“Sy read some of the doctor’s work,” Bach explained. “She thinks he could have some insight to offer.”
“Insight,” Chisulo let the word rest flatly on the air.
“Keep your distance, C. Let Sy and Dr. Davis handle this.”
“With Kam.”
Chisulo’s observation earned him a groan from his brother.
“If we can find answers for Kam and stop this from happening on a much larger and gruesome scale, shouldn’t we try whatever we can?”
The quiet, calm delivery of Saiida’s query, took Chisulo’s temper down several degrees. He needed only a second to acknowledge the obvious and nodded.
“I’m sorry, Saiida,” he said.
She smiled. “That’s lovely, but I’m not the one you hit.”
Bach chuckled while his brother bristled and rolled his eyes toward Davis.
“Would you be kind enough to tell that to our guest when he’s conscious?” Chisulo asked.
***
News of Max Davis’ arrival, swept through the house like a tidal wave. Bach found himself working as a peacemaker once again, trying to soothe the tempers of Mustafa and Ali Okonkwo. Bach wasn’t a Davis fan either and wondered how he got saddled with being the cooler head. For Saiida’s and Kam’s sakes, he did his best.
––––––––
“So you know this guy?” Mustafa asked later when he and Bach joined Chisulo in the reading room on the basement level. They were still waiting on Ali to arrive.
Chisulo cleared his throat. “He’s not an old friend, but the similarity in the name is too much of a coincidence.”
“Sure this isn’t your frustration talking, C?” Bach asked.
“This was on my mind before I saw Davis. I was on my way to find you and Mus when I saw you and Saiida rolling out the red carpet for that son of a bitch Davis.”
“Bach, what’s Saiida hoping he can tell us?” Mustafa asked.
“No idea,” Bach leaned back his head and sighed. “I think she sees my eyes glazing over when she tries to explain it.”
“Not to change the subject,” Chisulo said once their much needed laughter had eased, “B and I saw something pretty interesting this morning.”
“Mmm, that’s right,” Bach chimed in, “interesting and long overdue.”
Mustafa only shrugged.
“Our big brother enjoying a moment with a very special lady,” Chisulo clarified.
Mustafa frowned. “What do you mean, long overdue?”
“Come on, man,” Bach laughed, “did you think no one ever noticed how gone you’ve been over Cafrey since...forever?”
“Is she the one, Mus?”
Mustafa nodded. “Yeah, C. She is.”
“Do you guys think H could’ve seen things our way if he’d had other things to focus on?” Chisulo asked once silence had returned to the room for a time.
“Other things?” Mustafa queried.
“A woman to love,” Chisulo said.
Mustafa and Bach laughed.
“From what I know, H has had lots of women to love,” Bach said.
Chisulo wasn’t amused. “I’m asking for a reason here.”
Bach and Mustafa came down off their humor.
“The love of a woman is a powerful thing,” Bach said.
“So is the love of money- power,” Chisulo argued. “We’ve always been on top in that regard,” he continued, “with this serum, the Okonkwo...they’re a powerhouse in their own right, but the serum... it could push them right on past us.”
“Fear,” Bach said.
Chisulo nodded. “Another potent thing. He’s not going to stop. He’s not going to stop coming after it. I won’t have Kam living with that kind of uncertainty.”
Mustafa inclined his head. “C-”
“You still want him dead,” Bach finished.
“He’s our brother, C,” Mustafa said. “No matter what he’s become, he’s our brother.”
“Kam, Saiida, Cafrey. He’d kill them if they stood between him and that serum,” Chisulo saw the horror his stony observation put on his brother’s faces.
“I don’t want this,” Chisulo sighed. “If you have a way to talk him off this path, I’m all for it.”
The men stood in silent contemplation and remained there until a quick knock landed on the door. A moment later, Ali looked in.
“Am I still invited to this meeting?”
Easy smiles emerged between the brothers. Each welcomed the intrusion on the tense moment. Chisulo waved Ali inside and Ali waved the folder he carried.
“My security team came through with the image,” Ali announced, extracting an 8x11 sheet. “Does Les Raymond look familiar?”
Chisulo studied the photo and turned it to his brothers. “Gentleman, I give you Lesotho Raymu.”
***
“Kam.” Max Davis stood. Carefully, he set aside the steaming cup of Colombian Roast Saiida had just handed him.
Kam remained where she stood in the parlor doorway. “I’d hit you, but I understand that part of the greeting has already been handled,” she said.
“Yeah,” Max winced while gingerly patting his jaw and cheek. “I get the feeling there’s still more to come there.”
“Don’t worry over that, Max. You’re safe here,” Saiida said with a quick look to her cousin. “Right Kam? Kam?”
Kam didn’t look convinced. “If you say so.”
“Kam.”
“It’s alright, Saiida,” Max raised a staying hand and then looked to his old friend with eyes full of pleading and regret. “Kam, I’m so sorry and I know those words mean nothing to you and...you’re right to feel that way but my words...my words are true. I let greed and ambition cloud what was right and decent. I-I never expect you to forgive me for handing you over to The Safari but I’ll spend my life trying to do what I can to atone for it.”
Kam remained silent, though her expression was a bit less rigid.
“Thank you, Max,” Saiida put in. “Your apology is appreciated, but no one expects you to devote your entire life to atoning. At some point, you have to let it go. Right, Kam?”
Kam forced a nod. “Right.”
“Besides,” Saiida continued, “the blame doesn’t all belong to you. You can atone by helping us now.”
“I only ever met with Dwele and his people in Black River. Once at a compound in...Zambia?” Max closed his eyes as if trying to lock in on specifics. “They kept me blindfolded from the landing field to the interior and back.”
“We understand, Max. What we’re dealing with right now is something else- more um... delicate?” Saiida winced.
“Delicate,” Max winced a little as well.
“This goes to the heart of your work, Dr. Davis.”
“M-my work?” Intrigued filtered Max’s expression.
Saiida nodded. “I think it can help me find an explanation for what’s happening with Kam.”
Again, Max’s eyes sought out Kam. “Whatever I can do. Um,” he shook his head suddenly, “My work, though, Dr. Okonkwo, I-I work with birds.”
“Yes. Yes, I read Nest Tactics.” Saiida shared.
Max sat. “I don’t understand,” his voice was hushed. “What’s this got to do with Kam?”
“Perhaps nothing,” Saiida let her hands fall to her sides, “but what I read in your book is perhaps the closest I’ve come to an explanation for what may be happening to my cousin.”
Now, Kam sat as well. Her expression was as curious as Max’s.
“What is happening?” Max inquired slowly.
“I must first stress the need for total discretion,” Saiida urged.
“Of cour-”
“Total discretion, doctor. What I’m about to tell you is known only to those in this house and it could get Kam killed.”
Horror widened Max’s eyes to twice their size behind the round lenses of the glasses that bore several scratches in the wake of his run-in with Chisulo. “What happened?” his voice was steady despite the terror-filled look. The look meshed with disbelief as Saiida shared details of the Jamaica attack.
“But that-th-that’s impossible,” Max breathed when Saiida had finished speaking.
“I wish,” Kam’s voice shook on the admission.
“How?” Max asked.
“Dr. Davis,” Saiida said. “That’s what I’m hoping you can help me figure out.”
***
Zambia, Africa~
“How did you get these?”
Lesotho Raymu wanted to expose the satisfied smile that was desperate to break through on his face. He dared not. Smiling in the presence of such men; unless something was said they deemed worthy of humor, could get one killed.
Before Raymu could answer Deke Obu’s question, the other man in the room chimed in with a question of his own.
“Why do you have these?”
Lesotho knew this man all too well. Smiling-or not smiling-was of little importance. If Haddad Nkosi didn’t like his answer, he was dead or as good as. Instinct, had his back straightening. Fear, had him clearing his throat to postpone speaking for as long as he could. Thankfully, his voice was level when he did reply.
“Something seemed...off. When I saw the um...lion’s paw. Something just felt off about sweeping it away like-”
“The trash,” Haddad finished.
“Y-yes, Sir,” Lesotho added a weak nod as Haddad Nkosi began to pace the perimeter of the paneled study.
“Thank you or coming forward, Raymu,” Obu was saying as he gestured to the photos of the Black River crime scene. “So far,” Obu continued, “you’ve told us things we already know. What don’t we know?”
Again, Lesotho hesitated- a good thing too. It was on the tip of his tongue to remind the men that they’d yet to tell him if their gratitude would result in a monetary reward. Are you that eager to dig your own grave, Otho? He asked himself.
“I was first to arrive that night with my partner Penza. Mr. Chisulo didn’t want a lot of traffic on the scene, but he wanted the clean up done quickly. He knew it would take more than just the two of us. It was Penza’s job- he only called me in after he spoke with Mr. Chisulo. I knew he was involved with the Okonkwo woman. The uh...the bodies um...the pictures don’t show the half of it. Parts were everywhere, blood-everything...your brother’s girlfriend, Sir- Miss Okonkwo, she...”
“What about her?” Haddad pressed.
“The mess,” Raymu rubbed shaking fingers over his mouth. “It was all but dripping from the walls and-well, I-I mean-”
“Christ man, spit it out!” Haddad snapped.
“He was just so clean, Sir!”
Haddad’s fury cleared. Obu even seemed taken aback. Clearly, neither man had expected that response.
“Clean,” Obu said.
“Apologies, Sirs. I-I don’t know why I noticed it. He would’ve had time to clean up before we got there, but I doubt he would’ve done so while the lady...it’s just that, she um...she was covered in it, Sirs.”
Haddad advanced slowly. “What are you saying, Raymu?”
“She was a mess, Sir. Clothes splattered-her hair, her face...I couldn’t understand why Mr. C would leave her in such a state.”
“Lesotho,” Obu moved closer then, “what else did you see-hear?”
“Mr. C, Mr. C was on the phone when we got there,” Raymu frowned in concentration. “I don’t know to who, but it sounded like he was making arrangements to leave. I heard him mention a jet.”
“To where?” Haddad demanded.
“I don’t know, Sir. I heard him say no to whatever the other person said. Then, he told them...it was too big for just the two of them- he said...’yes, that’s true’- that she would need her family there especially...Sy...Saiida. He said they’d need her help more than ever now.”
“Gods,” Obu sighed as though sudden realization had struck.
“It was her,” Haddad gave voice to the silent suspicions circling the room panneled with honey brown wood. “Did my brother say where they were heading?”
Raymu rubbed at his jaw and resumed his intense concentration. He then looked to Haddad with woeful eyes and shook his head. “Apologies, Sir. Mr. C just told the other person...if it...came to that they’d sleep in the cottage.”
Haddad went deathly still. “I know where they are,” he said.