Stalking Ivory (25 page)

Jade released her grip and stood back. Her heart pounded and her fist remained clenched, ready to fight. “You idiot!
He’s
probably not the mastermind here. We needed him for questioning to find out who is running this operation.” She couldn’t imagine the portly banker making it off the mountain in time to orchestrate Jelani’s kidnapping, or her and Sam’s capture, especially not under Harry’s nose. More than anything, she wanted the man who had hurt Jelani. Now her rage at having lost a chance to find that out fell on Captain Smythe.

The captain, in turn, turned a sneering smile on Jade. “Typical female hysteria,” he muttered. “But you needn’t worry. I didn’t kill the woman. She’ll be useful, I’m sure.”

Jade’s head snapped to the side to search the recesses of the cache. She had incorrectly assumed the second shot was for the already fallen Claudia, but the German woman only lay in a sprawl against the boxes, unconscious after her husband’s angry blow. No blood marred her clothing beyond the trickle that oozed from her split lower lip.

Smythe pointed to von Gretchmar’s body. “I had to stop him, you know. He would have killed her.”

Jade’s eyes followed his outstretched arm to the lifeless body of the banker. Blood stained his shirt in two spots; one bullet had probably penetrated a lung, the other his heart. Then she noticed the revolver lying a few inches from him. “He had a gun?” Whatever make and model it was, it looked far too small and ineffectual to carry out into the African wilderness, but deadly enough against his wife. Perhaps all was not lost, if Claudia talked.

Smythe holstered his Webley. “I would appreciate it, Miss del Cameron, if you would refrain from any more such theatrics and leave these matters to me.” He signaled for his one remaining soldier to come forward and issued some orders in an African language Jade didn’t recognize. The African immediately trotted into the cache, grabbed hold of von Gretchmar’s corpse, and dragged it to the entrance.

Jade wondered why Smythe’s men didn’t speak English. After all, they were part of the King’s African Rifles and might be subject to any number of commanding officers, many of whom might not speak anything other than English and kitchen Swahili. Smythe watched his subordinate prop the body out of sight before returning to stand guard over Frau von Gretchmar.

“That should do for now,” said Smythe. “And now, Miss del Cameron, if you would be so good as to show me the way to your little hidden cache, I would be very grateful.”

Jade was about to make a comment about von Gretchmar’s body becoming an attraction for scavengers when she noticed a gray figure standing like a mist among the shadows.
Boguli!

T
HE OLD MAN EMERGED
from the dark forest, still wearing his tattered gray blanket tied over one shoulder and blending with the shadows as would an evening fog. And like the fog, he seemed almost ethereal, his deeply wrinkled face infinitely serene. As usual, he swayed from side to side, marking time to some internal rhythm known only to him. Boguli moved his eyes to Captain Smythe, then nodded once to Jade.

Smythe had turned to retrieve his fallen headgear. In the instant Jade gave her attention to the captain, she noticed the back of Smythe’s head and his oversized ears protruding from his thick brown hair. Her mind instantly jumped back to one of the first lengths of film she’d developed from a trip wire camera, the image of Claudia von Gretchmar in the arms of another man.

Smythe is the leader! Schmit! That’s the other word Jelani heard.
Other memories shouted in her head.
“Have you had any dealings with the new chap up north? I hear he saw service in Tanganyika during the war.” “I’ll even send word to Isiolo to let the patrol up there know you’re coming.” “Tragic how Captain Ross died.”

No wonder Smythe had killed Otto before he could talk. It was a perfect plan. As a lone officer patrolling this range, he had easy access to the Abyssinian poachers and was able to make a tidy profit for himself. She wondered what his full plan was. Did he buy arms from people like the von Gretchmars to resell to the Abyssinians? Or was he arming them for something else?

Jade remembered both Mercedes’ and Claudia’s references to becoming a queen and she shuddered as the full scope of Smythe’s plan entered her mind, her brain processing this new revelation in the course of a few heartbeats. Then rage and loathing quickly replaced shock and disbelief as she realized that this man stood behind Jelani’s torment and pain. Her fist slowly clenched and she tensed her legs to launch herself at her hated enemy.

In that moment, Smythe turned and saw the recognition and fierce determination in Jade’s eyes. He rapidly pulled his Webley and leveled it at her chest.

“Well, well, Miss del Cameron, it seems we find ourselves at odds with each other. My employer told me you’d be a formidable opponent and suggested I kill you, but I never really believed it. I thought you’d leave when I told you to.”

“You bastard,” she said, her voice low and husky. “I’m going to kill you for what you’ve done.”

“My dear girl,” he said in a patronizing tone, “you haven’t got it in you.”

Jade sneered, an evil grin playing like a snarl over her beautiful face. “Oh, just give me a chance, you snake.”

Smythe shrugged lightly and chuckled. “It’s all academic, isn’t it? I have a revolver, and you don’t. Not even your rifle, although I am curious as to how you got away. I thought I had you and your friend chained very nicely. But no more time for pleasantries. Let’s go find that little cache of yours, why don’t we? I want my gold back.”

“Find it yourself,” Jade said, and spat at his feet.

“My, my. We are a feisty little creature.” For all the scorn in his words, he kept his revolver trained on her. “I could shoot you. Perhaps I will.”

Jade hung her head and squeezed her eyes together, forcing a tear to surface. When she raised her head, she kept her now-moistened eyes wide while her lower lip quivered. In short, she looked the very picture of a subdued female. “Please don’t kill me,” she whimpered.

“I knew you weren’t so fearless. Of course I won’t kill you, but I might hurt you if you don’t cooperate,” Smythe cooed. “I need you to show me where you hid those guns and the money. I can hardly organize my own little revolution without them, can I?” He smirked. “First, my well-armed private militia will take over one of the richest territories in Abyssinia and become very powerful. But I don’t plan to stop there. No, I’m going to be emperor someday. I’ll offer my military expertise to the current empress and ultimately gain complete control.”

“So that’s why von Gretchmar gave you the money,” said Jade in a breathless tone, as though she were awed by his scheming.

“That fat old fool was merely a delivery boy. He didn’t give me the money. I paid it to him for the rifles. Got quite a lot of it when I worked for the Germans in their old territories. Served under another ex-Englishman, Prince. But once it was clear the stupid Germans were losing the war, it occurred to me that I needed a new line of work.”

“So you became Smythe and signed up with the Rifles? Very clever.”

Smythe shrugged. “Not at first. At first I ran a sort of supply business out of Mombasa. Perhaps you knew one of my contacts? Roger Forster? Then after you fouled that up, we had to disband that operation and sever connections. So I came here. At first I was only ordered to run guns, but then I found an excellent opportunity to advance myself. Put me in a rather neat little position. I’m more of a partner now. But Otto?” He snorted again. “He only took the risk of supplying me with guns because I promised to make his precious little Mercedes my queen. What he didn’t know was that I seduced his Frau and promised her that
she’d
be an empress if she’d only return my gold.”

Smythe spat. “As if I plan on having either German bitch for a queen. I can make more money selling them, and I will as soon as my sergeant returns with the little Fräulein.” His laugh turned Jade’s stomach as he eyed her up and down. “Maybe if you cooperate, I’ll sell you to some nice harem. Otherwise, I’ll kill you
after
I shoot off one finger at a time. I know my partner would prefer to see you suffer.”

His partner? She remembered a previous thought. Was there someone out there who actually hated her so much as to use the boy for revenge? Yes, there was, and she suspected she knew who.

Jade hunched her shoulders slightly and drew back in on herself, putting her hands behind her. “Please,” she whispered again, “don’t hurt me. I’ll show you where the money is. And don’t let Vogelsanger hurt me, either.”

Smythe kept his Webley in his right hand, the stock held against his side by his right elbow while he gestured magnanimously with his left hand. “If you think one of those other Germans is my partner, you’re mistaken.” He waved his revolver for her to move. “After you, my dear.”

Jade wasn’t certain if her submissive act fooled Smythe or not, but she took the chance that a man as arrogant as he was, especially one holding a gun on her, would hardly believe her capable of treachery. She wanted to end it now, but between his revolver and that soldier who guarded Claudia with a rifle, she knew she didn’t stand a chance. No, she’d have to lure Smythe away from his confederates. In the meantime, she slowly collected the dangling chain on her wrist into her closed fists and held them hidden from view.

“No tricks now, missy,” Smythe said. “Just go on nice and slowly or you’ll have a bullet in your shoulder.”

“It’s this way,” said Jade as she inched past him towards the trail that would take them not only towards her cache, but also to her original snare. She only hoped it was still in place after all this time. As she headed back into the forest, she looked to the side, trying to catch a glimpse of Boguli, and wondered if the old man could help her. Thoughts of an elephant stampede such as the one that tore down Harry’s
boma
flitted across her mind. Boguli, in the meantime, had melted unseen back into the shadows.

Jade led the way to her cache, pausing at every trail juncture to look around, doing her best to appear confused and timid. In actuality, she was looking for Boguli, Sam, Harry, or any other possible reinforcements. She saw none, not even a hidden snake to lead Smythe towards, even though she occasionally forayed onto a narrow meandering path. After all, it wouldn’t do to make this too easy for him.

After over an hour of trudging around, Smythe poked Jade in the back with the revolver barrel. “How much farther?” he snarled. “You’d better not be leading me on some merry little chase or I’ll make good on my promise to deal you serious discomfort. I’ve heard a great deal about you.”

“No,” Jade wailed. “You promised not to kill me.”

“And I won’t, but I don’t think the loss of a few fingers or toes will lower your price too much, and you should fetch a very nice one.” His free hand came up and toyed with her hair.

Jade bit her lip and forced herself not to explode right then and there. He still had his gun trained on her back. She ran through every lesson of patience her father had ever taught her while hunting. Too quick a reaction meant a loss of the prey, and this was one she did not intend to lose. “It’s not far,” she said. “I’m just trying to make sure I don’t miss it. All these trees are starting to look alike to me.”

She knew she was only a few hundred yards away from her snare, but if she led him right into it too quickly, she’d run the risk of tripping it herself. That was when she remembered, it was never reset after she and Sam had cut Harry down. They’d used the rope to make the deadfall by the rifles. She’d have to lead him to the cache and hope he didn’t make her retrieve the rifles.

“Well,” snapped Smythe, “I’m waiting and I’m losing my patience.”

“Down there,” said Jade, nodding down the hill on the ancient elephant trail. “It’s on that old trail.”

Smythe prodded her again from behind. “You first, lovey.”

Now Jade’s every sense was set to high alert. She padded softly but quickly down the antiquated path, her speed giving evidence to her assurance that the rifles and gold lay close at hand. She counted on Smythe’s mounting greed to make him careless. She stopped a few yards short of the hollow tree.

“I put it all in there.”

Smythe kept his rifle trained on her as he stepped closer to the shell of a tree and peered inside. His lips spread in a thin, satisfied smile. “Where’s the gold?”

“I put it behind that first tier of rifles,” she lied, knowing Avery had taken the gold with him.

“Show me,” Smythe ordered.

For a split second Jade hesitated. To handle those rifles meant becoming a target for the deadfall, but to say no meant arousing his suspicion. She decided to play on his distrustful nature. Her eyes widened in excitement, and she started to smile and inhale sharply. As soon as she saw he observed her expression, she suddenly cut it off, a perfect imitation of someone who actually wanted to grab a rifle and was suddenly trying not to show it.

Smythe fell for it. “Stop! You loaded one, didn’t you?” He chuckled. “Clever girl, but not clever enough.” His lip twisted in a snarl. “Get over there where I can keep an eye on you!” he snapped.

Jade put her hands behind her back and sidled over towards the left side of the tree while Smythe kept his revolver trained on her. Timing and position were critical now. If the deadfall didn’t drop, she needed to be just close enough to kick his gun away and slug him hard in the jaw with her fist. If the log did drop, she didn’t want to be in its way.

Smythe knelt in front of the tree’s opening, his Webley aimed at her midsection. For a moment he studied the stack of rifles, watchful for any trick. Jade and Sam had run the trip line out the other side of the tree so it wasn’t readily visible. All she could hope for was that they had done a good job rigging both the toggle and the log that served as the deadfall.

A slight movement in her peripheral vision caught Jade’s eye, and she looked over Smythe’s back to see Boguli halfway up the trail beckoning to her. She made one slight nod to show she saw him.

“I don’t see the pouch,” Smythe growled. He reached into the hollow tree and took hold of the nearest rifle and extracted it. Nothing happened. “Blasted female,” he muttered.

Time seemed to become suspended for Jade as she waited for him to pull on the right rifle. She became aware of every heartbeat, of the drop of sweat that trickled down her back, of the chain biting into her palms as she tightened her grip. She worried that he would shoot her now that he had found the cache before he ever tripped the deadfall.
Should’ve left the gold in there and rigged the trigger to it instead.

“It better be behind this next rifle or I’m going to make you pay for my trouble,” Smythe said, pausing to wink at Jade as though they were sharing a private joke. “This one seems to be stuck—” Suddenly his eyes widened as understanding and surprise flashed across his face. He released his grip on the trigger rifle and rolled out of the way. He would have made it if it hadn’t been for Jade.

She saw her chance and kicked his gun up into the air, her leg snapping up with the speed of a rattlesnake. But Smythe was a trained soldier and was on his feet in an instant. He lunged for Jade, who countered by dancing backward and in a circle. The deadfall had gotten hung up, snagged on a limb and ready to drop with just a little more provocation. She needed to keep Smythe in its vicinity while she supplied the force that would drop the log.

She swung her left fist in an uppercut, intentionally missing Smythe by a few inches. He jerked his head back, then, assuming that she fought like a girl, found himself amused by her inept attempt to hit him. Jade counted on his ego, and he didn’t disappoint her.

He pointed at his square chin and laughed. “Come on, darling, not a big enough target for you?”

Jade cut loose with a right hook, only this time she released the chain she’d hidden in her fist. Six inches of hard iron links snapped out and caught Smythe across his left eye before thwacking him on the nose. He roared in pain and grabbed for his face.