The Crocodile's Last Embrace (19 page)

“Harry Hascombe is a rounder and a scoundrel,” said Jade, “but I don’t think you have to worry about him hurting Holly.”

“What Jade means,” said Beverly, “is that deep down, Harry is a good man and not a murderer.”

“Actually, what I meant,” said Jade, “is that he doesn’t have the patience to come up with this mining scheme. When Harry’s angry, he’d just as soon belt someone then and there. He wouldn’t plot out these so-called accidental deaths.” Even as she said this, she remembered her first dealings with him when he’d tried to pass off another man as David Worthy’s missing half brother. A twinge of doubt, heightened by the sense of danger she’d felt when he came close, gave her pause.

“Jade!” scolded Bev. “You know Harry well enough to trust him with your life.”

“I can’t trust him with my tea, though,” she said as she retrieved the now boiling pot and poured herself half a cup.

“As long as you’re certain of him,” said Emily, “but I am concerned that Mr. Holly hasn’t come back. It’s been several hours now.”

“I promise if he’s not back by the time the girls have our lunch ready, I’ll go find him,” said Jade. She took a sip of the tea and spat out a mouthful of loose leaves. She tossed the contents from the cup and settled for water from her canteen instead. The next hour was devoted to Beverly’s campfire cooking lesson. While Bev took the girls and Emily through the steps of baking a few little flatbreads on a heated stone, Jade wondered where Holly had wandered off to.

I’m not responsible for him
. Then she saw Emily’s worried frown and mentally chided herself, especially since she’d suspected Holly’s disguise even back at the Dunburys’ house.
I should have left him behind then
. But she’d wanted to know what had frightened him enough to make a complete fool of himself, hoping it would be a clue to her own problem.

By the time Lily announced that lunch was served, Jade was seriously concerned. She took one of the breads, added some tinned beef, and wolfed it down. She finished it off with more water from her canteen.

“Bev,” she called, “I’m going to look for Mr. Holly. You have the camp.”

Beverly came to Jade’s side so she could speak in relative privacy. Jade doubted that was possible, considering the attentive faces and the six pairs of ears that seemed to grow larger as heads tilted towards their conversation.

“Where do you plan to look?” asked Bev in a near whisper.

“I’ll follow his tracks,” said Jade. “I think he went up to the bridge.”

“That means he crossed the river.”

“Yes, and I wouldn’t think he’d do that except I haven’t caught sight of him anywhere on the plains. Not that I was looking for him much of the time.”

“I wish Harry were going with you. I don’t care for your wandering off alone, Jade. Too much has happened.”

Jade put a hand on her friend’s shoulder and smiled. “I’ll be fine, Bev. I’ve got my Winchester and I’ll take Biscuit. If there’s any problem, I’ll send him back for you. I’ll be back before dark, with or without Holly.”

Jade picked up Holly’s trail quickly enough. He’d stomped off in his ungainly shoes, shuffling and kicking aside debris as he tried to maneuver with the long skirt. Instead of continuing to the bridge, he’d forded the Athi where it broke into a series of serpentine channels winding over themselves. During the rains, the channels filled and merged into one, the falls flowing in a torrent. Now the water level at these upper reaches had diminished to make crossing possible by stepping back and forth on the dry patches until one found a spot to jump the next part of the river. In a few places, the width was such that wading was the only option. It was one Biscuit didn’t care for and he told his mistress in a series of discontented churrs and growls. Jade considered going up to the bridge, but then she’d have to work harder to pick up his trail on the other side.

“Come or go back,” Jade told him. “I’m going on.” She sloshed through the calf-deep water, grateful that she’d recently oiled her boots to make them somewhat waterproof. Still, she could feel the chill through the leather.

Biscuit called to her again, pacing back and forth on his little dry patch. Jade spoke to him, urging him to join her. “It’s all right, boy. It’s just water. You can make it. Come on.”

Finally, when she’d taken two more steps away from him, the cheetah reached a decision and gathered his hindquarters under him, tensing for a great leap.

He almost made it. One hind foot slipped at the end on a wet rock and dipped into the river. Biscuit trotted to Jade’s side and paused to shake the hind foot. He butted her on the thigh and she rewarded him with a scratch behind his ears.

“Looks like we were on the right track, too,” she said. A few yards ahead of her lay Holly’s straw hat and wig, discarded behind a large black rock. “What do you think, boy? Did he drop them here intentionally or by accident?”

She picked them up in case he’d left a note hidden underneath, but there was nothing. Jade left them and resumed her search for his shoe prints. The moment she found them, she also spied an elephant in the distance, looking at her. The huge bull had one broken tusk. The animal turned away from her and ambled off to skirt the mountain. He turned his head once more and shook it, his great ears flapping.

“What do you think, boy? I don’t believe he wants us around. Not much choice, though. We’ll give him a wide berth, right?”

Jade readjusted her rifle in her arms and strode off towards the elephant. When she looked down, she saw that both she and the elephant were on the same track that Holly had taken.

—The Traveler

JADE EASILY PICKED UP HOLLY’S TRAIL. The man must have had a difficult time walking in the borrowed shoes and cumbersome dress, and the smashed grasses, kicked clods, and scrapes were impossible to miss. She was surprised he’d gone so far in the getup, testimony to how afraid he was to remove it and risk being recognized. But what she didn’t understand was why he hadn’t just turned around and headed back to camp. Of course, it was possible that a city dandy like Holly couldn’t follow his own trail back and had gotten lost.

He can’t be that stupid
. Then she remembered his own niece’s assessment of him.
Well, maybe he is at that.

Across the broad plains, Ol Donyo Sabuk rose in front of Jade, its forests beckoning with the promise of cool shade and interesting wildlife. As befitted its Kikuyu name, the mountain of the big rain, its shape from above was that of a raindrop, with the narrow end pointing north and facing her. Holly’s trail skirted it to the west, towards Harry’s former ranch. After a short distance, he’d picked up the old dirt track, which still showed signs of use. Not surprising, as hunting was good on the mountain. It was several miles to Harry’s house and Jade considered turning back for one of the Overlands, but she’d wasted enough time already.

“I expected to find him sitting under a thorn tree by now, Biscuit.”

She picked up her pace, breaking into the easy, loping stride that she’d learned from the Maasai. Biscuit fell into place beside her. If she didn’t spot Holly soon, she’d fire a round in the air and then call his name. At least she didn’t see any vultures flapping around. She also didn’t see that bull elephant, and while those giants hid easily in the forest, Jade couldn’t imagine where one would hide out here in the open.

Maybe I imagined him, or else he took off towards the mountain when I wasn’t looking.
While she preferred to think it was the latter, her recent experiences suggested otherwise. Jade stopped and peered into the distance in all directions, looking for some sign of Holly.

There he is.
Ahead, she spied an umbrella-shaped thorn tree and under it she glimpsed a bit of brown shifting slightly. “I told you he’d be under a tree, Biscuit. Probably got too tired to walk back and was hoping someone would drive after him to rescue him.” She patted the cheetah’s shoulders. “He’s going to be very disappointed.”

Jade resumed her ground-eating lope, her Winchester gripped in her right hand. But as she neared the tree she could tell she was mistaken. Holly wasn’t there. Only the dress, hanging from a lower branch.

“Blast it!” she muttered. “Time to end this now!” She fired once in the air and waited for the report and its echo to fade. “Mr. Holly!” she shouted. Then she listened for an answering call, moan, cry, anything. The only sound was the cry of a bird startled from its roost. “Holly!” she called again, this time facing in another direction. Jade repeated her call to each of the cardinal points, and waited for an answer. There was none.

“He probably went on to Harry’s house, looking for someplace to lie down. When I find him, I’m going to kick his backside all the way back to camp.”

She pulled out her pocket watch. It was well past three o’clock and she had two and a half hours of daylight left. That alone should have suggested haste, but when she took a step, some inner voice suggested caution instead. There was no pain in her left knee, nothing to warn her of imminent danger, just a gnawing and unidentifiable sense of something being terribly wrong.

Jade was nearly around the mountain’s west side, and Harry’s house was located just around the bend, perhaps four hundred yards away. She could be there in minutes. Jade checked her rifle and made certain there was a round in the chamber.

“Are you with me, Biscuit?” she asked. She held her rifle at the ready and started off in a slow stalk. Her heart beat a steady rhythm in her chest, strong but slightly fast. Jade took a deep breath to steady herself and took another three steps before stopping dead in her tracks.

From around the bend strode the bull elephant, his one broken tusk nearly crossing the other. Biscuit hissed.

In a small way, the cheetah’s reaction calmed Jade.
At least I’m not imagining this.

In a large way, Biscuit’s hiss worried her. Her newer Winchester .303 British model was better than her old one against a lion or a leopard, but not this monstrous animal. If he charged, she had no place to hide and there would be very little of her left for Beverly to find later.

The bull blocked their path and stood his ground, weaving slightly from side to side. His trunk went up, testing the air, then dropped back to the ground, where it brushed the soil and the grasses. His ears flapped briefly to fan himself, but he didn’t hold them out. That was some comfort. Extended ears were a sign of imminent attack. And Jade had seen the results of an elephant attack on a lion before. The rage and destruction were on a scale as large as the beast. She thought about the phrase used by soldiers who’d seen battle. They’d “seen the elephant.” It made more sense than most of them realized.

Jade took a careful step back and prayed that the air, now calm, wouldn’t suddenly blow in his direction. Step by painfully slow step, Jade inched back until she was near the thorn tree. If she could hide behind it, perhaps the bull would amble off somewhere else without ever having noticed her. He must be terribly old and perhaps his eyes were poor for him to have missed seeing her already.

She gained the tree and, in one quick motion, stepped behind its narrow trunk. The elephant hadn’t moved. He just held his ground, a sentry blocking her passage. Jade hoped Holly wouldn’t take it into his head to wander back and stumble into the animal from the rear.

She motioned for Biscuit to stay close. “He’ll go away soon, boy,” she whispered. “I promise.” She peered around the tree at it and once again felt as though she recognized him. But common sense told her it couldn’t be the old bull from Mount Marsabit. For one thing, that was over two hundred miles away. For another, she’d watched that old bull die.

This one was very much alive and he kept a close eye on her hiding spot, as if he dared her to move. Each time she peeked out, he shook his head, his bulk weaving to and fro as though he were rocking himself to sleep. Only his eyes stayed open.

“Doesn’t he have somewhere to go? Some elephant cows to annoy?”

Biscuit paced in a tight circle nearby and uttered soft growls. For a moment, Jade considered sending him racing back to camp. No elephant could outrun a cheetah. But if the bull did charge, it would put him even closer to Jade’s position.

That was when she heard a horn honk a number of times and her name being called by several high-pitched voices at once.

“Miss Ja-aade.”

“Stop!” she shouted, hoping they’d hear her before the elephant saw them and charged the vehicle. But when she looked around the slender tree to the bull, he’d turned and sauntered off in the opposite direction.

Bev pulled the black Overland Express next to Jade. Crammed inside were Mary, Elspeth, and Helen.

“We’re here to rescue you, Miss Jade,” said Helen.