Stalking Ivory (4 page)

F
OR THE THIRD TIME
that day, Jade seriously wrestled with the idea of punching someone in the face. Before, when no actual target stood before her, she’d gained control more quickly, but this time, her target loomed large. Her right hand clenched into a fist, itching to connect with that smug smile.
Just give me one good provocation.

“What the devil are you doing here, Hascombe?” she demanded. “I thought I saw the last of your lying, vermin-ridden hide after we hauled you back from Tsavo.”

“Nice to see you, too, Jade.” His gaze ran over her slender figure. “You’re looking particularly fine as always.”

Avery rose and extended a hand towards their visitor, effectively blocking Jade’s chances of landing a punch. “Hascombe,” he said.

“Dunbury,” replied Harry as he shook the young lord’s hand. “Lady Dunbury,” he added as he nodded to Beverly.

She smiled and nodded in return. “I’m glad to see that your broken leg mended so well, Harry.”

“Thank you,” he replied. “Kind of
you
to notice.”

Biscuit rose, stretched, and padded softly over to his former master. If Jade hoped the big cat would take a bite out of Harry, he didn’t. Instead he sniffed Harry’s trousers, then chirped a greeting. Harry put out a rough hand and stroked the cheetah’s head. “And how’s my bright beauty?” he asked the cat. “What are you doing all the way out here?”

Jade decided that hitting the man wouldn’t do much good anyway and sat back down on the chop box she’d been using for a seat. She made a point of not offering a chair or a box to Harry. “He’s with me.”

Harry looked around for another of the wooden crates and pulled it up to the fire. “I can see that.” He sat down and leaned his rifle against his leg. “What I want to know is why. I distinctly remember leaving him with that coffee farmer, Thompson, and his wife.”

“He kept running after Jade,” Beverly said. “It was the most amazing sight. Once, he actually followed the scent of her Ford all the way into town to the Norfolk Hotel. When he arrived, he slipped right past the boys out front, went straight through the lobby, and trotted on up to her room just as if he owned the place. And another time he followed her into a party at the Muthaiga Club. That drunken trollop Cissy Estes screamed and stood on a table. That is, before she passed out on it.”

“The devil you say.” Harry shook his head. “Biscuit was fond of my man Ruta, but I never knew him to act that way even around him.”

“He also likes Jelani, the Kikuyu boy who is traveling with us,” added Avery.

Harry appeared not to hear the last remark. Instead he riveted his gaze on Jade. “You’re a very remarkable woman, Jade, but then I already knew that.”

She returned his stare. Her green eyes, for which her father had named her, bored right into Harry’s. Very few people could win a staring contest with her, and Harry didn’t bother to try. He glanced back at the Dunburys. “Well, at least I know Biscuit’s in good hands.”

“What
are
you doing here, Hascombe?” Jade repeated. Her gaze never left his face as she watched for any telltale sign of deception.

Harry stewed a moment under her scrutiny, fidgeting on his box seat. “I’m leading a bloody damned safari, if you must know,” he finally bellowed.

“You don’t need to shout, Hascombe. I can hear you.”

“Sorry,” he muttered. “It’s just that…” He shifted some more. “You could try the patience of a saint.”

“I think Harry would have appreciated a more cordial greeting, Jade,” said Beverly. “You’ve hurt his feelings.”

“Right,” said Harry. He slapped his leg for emphasis. “Instead I get a bloody interrogation. You used to be friendlier to me, Jade. You even danced with me once, remember?”

For a moment, a memory of that evening jumped, unbidden, to Jade’s mind. She saw Harry, looking very handsome in evening kit. More than the image, she remembered his musky male scent and felt his strong arm around her waist, and the smooth grace with which he led her across the floor in a waltz. She shook the thought away. “I remember. I have an excellent memory. So you’re here leading a safari.” As she said it, Jade arched her brows and looked past his shoulder into the woods, as if she expected to see an army of porters and hunters materialize in front of her, a tacit implication that she didn’t believe him.

Harry caught the drift of her unspoken query. “Of course they’re not here,” he said. “I left them at my camp.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder to the northeast. “About three miles that way. There’s a smaller crater there, a seasonal lake. Unfortunately, it’s nearly dry now, so the elephants have abandoned it.”

“I say, I don’t mean to criticize. I’m sure you know what you’re doing and all, but was that wise to leave them?” asked Avery. “Your people, I mean.”

“They’re perfectly safe. I’ve got a damn fine headman with them. Name’s Nakuru. He’s from Tanganyika. Best headmen come from there.”

Lord Dunbury nodded. “Yes, our man is Chiumbo. He’s a Nyamwezi tribesman, I believe.”

Harry’s eyes widened in recognition. “I’ve heard of him. They say Roosevelt tried to get him, but he was already engaged.”

Avery nodded. “That’s the man.”

“You should feel honored to have him. He’s very particular about who he works for, a matter of honor. But I’m surprised to see all of you up here.” Harry nodded in Jade’s direction. “What’s Simba Jike got you into this time?”

“Jade’s photographing elephants,” Avery said.

“Very exciting!” added Beverly. She looked across to her friend and shuddered when she observed Jade’s mouth set in a severe line with obvious loathing radiating from her every pore. “Um, Jade, darling. Might we show Harry some of your photographs?”

Jade answered in a subdued rumble. “I’m sure Mr. Hascombe is too anxious to return to his people to stay and look at photographs. We don’t have a spare tent for him and he won’t want to be wandering around the trails once it gets dark.”

Harry retrieved his rifle and stood. “I believe that is what is now termed a ‘bum’s rush.’”

“If the shoe fits,” Jade muttered.

Harry took a deep breath, touched the brim of his hat, and nodded to the Dunburys. “Lord Dunbury, Lady Dunbury, always a pleasure. Drop by my camp if you’ve a mind to. Next crater over. Can’t miss us.” He turned to leave when Jade’s voice halted him.

“Which one of your people shot at us today?”

Harry turned abruptly, his square jaw clenched in an obvious attempt to control his temper. “What the devil are you talking about, woman?”

Avery explained. “This afternoon a bullet passed dangerously close to Jade.”

Harry shook his head. “I guess that would explain your sour mood, but we’re only after elephant, and right now we’re just scouting. None of my people fired any shots today.” He turned halfway around to leave, hesitated, and faced Jade once more. “Perhaps, to be on the safe side, we should each keep track of where the other group is so we don’t have any accidents.”

Jade folded her arms over her chest. “You’re telling us you didn’t butcher that calf today and leave its mother bleeding to death?” She tilted up her jaw and shook her head. Her short dark hair flashed blue-black in the fire’s light. “I don’t believe you, Hascombe. There’s nobody else around here.”

Harry jabbed a finger in her direction. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Jade, but if you think we’re all alone up here, you’re a damned little fool. Poachers don’t tend to introduce themselves.”

“Leave my elephants alone, Hascombe!”

“They’re not
your
elephants.” He nodded to each of them and stomped off.

Jade immediately turned on Beverly. “Did you invite him here?”

Beverly’s jaw dropped. She leaned back on her box and put a hand to her chest. “Me? Why on earth do you think I invited Harry? I was just as surprised to see him as you were.”

“Just before he showed up, you said, and I quote, ‘It’s high time you quit traipsing all over the continent and settled down with some nice man who can watch over you.’” Jade leaned forward on her own box. “Let me inform you of something, Beverly. Hascombe is
not
a nice man!”

“I didn’t know he was here, Jade. You must believe me.”

Jade heard the hurt in Bev’s voice and apologized for offending her. In her own head she couldn’t quite figure out why she felt such anger towards Hascombe. Oh, certainly she had cause to resent him. His machinations had clouded everything last June while she’d searched with such desperation for her dead sweetheart’s missing brother. And in the end, Harry had been duped by Forster as much as she.

A nagging voice in one corner of her head sneered at her frustration and reminded her that she had once found Harry Hascombe dangerously attractive. The same voice mockingly took note that he still looked in fine figure. Jade scowled. Pure nonsense, she told herself. It didn’t help. His mention of their dance together at the Muthaiga Club had already opened the door to her memories and another quickly rushed in. She felt his hot kiss pressing on her willing lips after her bullfighting encounter with the rhino.

Avery’s voice broke into her moody reflections. “Surely you don’t think Hascombe’s people committed those atrocities? Especially after Captain Smythe informed us that raiders are coming down from the north. Harry’s safari might be a fortunate turn of events for us.” Jade frowned at him, and Avery hastened to explain. “There is safety in numbers. If we banded together, we should be safe.”

“Avery, I can hardly photograph elephants while he runs around and shoots them.”

“But surely we can work out…” He paused midsentence when his wife placed a restraining hand gently on his arm and shook her head.

“Let it go, darling,” she said in a hushed voice. “We’re all tired.”

Avery glanced from his wife to Jade and back again. “Um, quite right, my love. It has been a long day.” He rose and stretched. “Are the men keeping watch tonight or is it our turn?”

“You’re retiring already? The sun hasn’t even set yet.” Immediately Jade regretted her question. After all, they were married and probably dying for some private time, not something easy to achieve on safari. “Um, go ahead and go to bed if you’re tired. Chiumbo has first watch. He’ll see to the others.” She didn’t move when her friends headed for their tent.

Beverly stopped beside her. “You should get some sleep, Jade. You’re up far too early in the morning, checking your cameras. We’ll see that Jelani goes to bed, too,” she added.

Jade kept her gaze down at her boots and sighed. “You go on. I’m not tired yet. I’ll sit up for a while.” When Beverly didn’t move from her side, Jade looked up and forced a smile. “I’m fine. I just want to sit here a spell. Maybe talk to Chiumbo about some of his old safaris. And I need to write up some notes from today for my article for
The Traveler
.”

Beverly nodded and patted her friend’s shoulder. “Don’t stay up too late.”

“No, Mother,” replied Jade. She immediately winced as Bev slapped her playfully on the head. After the Dunburys retired, she stirred up the fire with a poker, then tossed another log on top.

Jade didn’t really want to talk to anyone this evening. Talking meant thinking and she didn’t want to think. She wanted to evaporate, to let all her restlessness rise up as one with the fire’s sparks and dissipate into the soft blackness that fell immediately after sunset. In the distance she heard the tubercular-sounding cough of a leopard, followed by the irate screams of some baboons.

She pulled a tattered leather notebook and a pencil from one of her jacket pockets, flipped open the book to a blank page, and paused, pencil in the air. To her left, a rhino snorted from down in the brushy
donga
and from everywhere echoed the explosive snapping of tree limbs. Finally she poured out her impressions of the herds, their tight-knit family units and maternal care. When she reflected on the calf’s death and the brave askari’s murder, her pencil point snapped under the increased pressure.

Poachers!
A spark rose from the fire, and as she watched it drift upward, her mind retreated into a conversation she’d had with her friends after Colridge’s party.

They had sat on the Dunburys’ terrace, Madeline in her made-over blue dress, Beverly in a moss green silk, the men in evening kit, sipping lemonade as moonlight filtered down through the trelliswork, the air heavy with the perfume of roses.

“Mr. Percival talked about poachers?” asked Neville Thompson. He uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, his stiff, formal collar undone as he made himself comfortable. “Jade, this trip could be very dangerous. Surely even you aren’t serious about going.”

“I’ll be fine. By the way, we got a letter from Pili,” Jade said, trying to change the subject to the young Somali who they had discovered was heir to a small fortune. “He’s doing quite well in school and hoping to start veterinary classes next term.”

“Has there been any more trouble from Mrs. Worthy?” asked Madeline. She pulled her shoes off and curled her legs under her to one side after wriggling her toes to ease out the cramps from dancing in tight shoes. “Is she still contesting her husband’s will? From what you told us, she was furious at losing half her estate to her husband’s illegitimate son.”