The Leopard's Prey (7 page)

Bob Perkins stepped out of the truck. For a moment Jade couldn’t tell which emotion would win out: his annoyance at having the road blocked by this monstrous machine or curiosity. Curiosity won, helped in part by Sam’s friendly demeanor.

“Have you ever seen an airplane up close, sir?” Sam asked after Jade introduced him. Perkins shook his head no. Anderson and Daley joined them, and Jade made more introductions.

“Did this one see any dogfights?” Perkins asked. “I don’t see any gun mount.”

“No, Mr. Perkins,” said Sam. “This was a trainer plane. It never saw any action. We got into the war too late to use most of them. In fact, this one only got uncrated after I bought it.”

“What about you?” asked Anderson.

“I got uncrated,” said Sam with a chuckle, then added more soberly, “Yes, I saw action.”

Anderson kept looking at Sam’s left arm, wrapped around Jade’s waist. “It appears you already know our Jade.” His voice was flat and his face tense, devoid of any genial expression.

Sam pulled his arm away, folded them back across his chest, and stiffened. Jade noticed all the signs of male posturing. A similar situation had occurred on Mount Marsabit when her former safari leader, Harry Hascombe, and Sam had first squared off for her attention. She decided she was tired of feeling like the lone cow for all the bulls to butt heads over.

Determined to stop the sparring before it began in earnest, she elbowed Sam in the ribs. “Sam, you look like someone just starched your shorts.” He let out a whoosh of air as Jade’s jab struck home. Before he could regain his breath, Jade continued. “I met Sam in January up north. He’s helped me out of some predicaments since then.”

Anderson scowled, and Jade recognized the look. She’d seen it before during the war from “doughboys” and “tommies” whenever a pilot came into a room.

“I spent my duty on the ground with the Third U.S. Division at Château Thierry,” Anderson said. He puffed out his barrel chest and raised his chin.

Sam’s posture softened, his arms falling to his side. “You saw hard fighting.”

“Damn right we did. But who at home ever knows about it?” said Anderson.

Jade had been right. The doughboys resented the glamorous pilots for taking so much of the glory while they paid a heavy price in blood on the ground. What the ground troops never cared to hear was the sad fact that the pilots also paid dearly. When a soldier was hurt, he hit the dirt. But that very dirt was hell and away from an airplane, and parachutes didn’t always open or have a chance to. Sam, one of the lucky ones, had only paid with his right leg. All Anderson saw was that he’d just lost one more battle to a pilot.

Sam must have sensed this, too, and made an overture of friendship. “
I
know what you did. I lost some good buddies during the war to ground fighting. One was a gunner. If you’d like, I’d be happy to take you up sometime. Show you what Africa looks like from the air.”

Anderson stepped back a pace and shook his head. “Couldn’t get me in one of those contraptions. Just thinking about it gives me the heebie-jeebies.”

Daley, who seemed oblivious to the discussion, had walked up to the plane and was peering intently at the myriad thin wires that braced the upper and lower wings. “Sure looks like she’d crumble easily. You’d have to be mighty brave or awful loco to trust your life in this.”

Sam laughed. “A little of both, I guess. But I’m blocking your way, so if you fellows could give the propeller a yank, we can be off.” He turned to Jade. “But
you’re
doing the flying.”

Jade hugged Sam hard enough to make him gasp for air. Then she stepped into the recessed stirrup and swung her long legs into the rear cockpit’s wicker seat, where she donned a leather aviator’s helmet and pair of goggles. “I’ll pick up my Graflex later, Mr. Perkins.”

“Wait a minute,” said Anderson, pointing to Jade. “
She’s
flying?”

“I had a few lessons during the war,” Jade called back over the side, “and Sam’s been teaching me when we can afford the fuel. Mostly I take off and land again back at the Thompsons’ farm. Never get much more than ten feet off the ground.”

“Flying’s easy,” said Sam. “Landing is the tricky part. But Jade’s ready.”

Anderson shook his head. “Whole dang world’s gone stir-crazy.”

Jade focused on what she needed to do to get off the ground. With Sam in the front cockpit, she knew he could take over if he had to, but he wouldn’t unless it was absolutely necessary. By then, it could be too late.

They were already facing the wind, so Sam asked the men to either back their trucks up to give them a runway, or drive around them. No one wanted to take a chance that this bird wouldn’t take off and plow into them, so they pulled the truck off the murram road and drove around behind them. Daley volunteered to pull the propeller, a one-man job on a Jenny, and Sam explained what to do before he climbed into the front cockpit by way of the wing-walk pads.

Jade switched off the magneto and primed the engine, pulling gas through with the choke. Then she turned on the switch and cracked the throttle. “Contact,” she shouted over the side, and watched as Daley swung the propeller. It caught the first time and the engine purred to life as Daley scurried to the rear. She opened the throttle for full power and felt the Jenny pull ahead like a horse ready to race. Jade used the stick to raise the tail and keep the plane on the ground until she had attained fourteen hundred rpms. Then she pulled back on the stick and let the plane rise smoothly into the air just before the road curved.

The thrill of being aloft swept through Jade. Her pulse raced and her right hand trembled slightly on the stick. She banked into a turn, climbing in a slow spiral reminiscent of an eagle riding a thermal. Below them, Anderson, Daley, and Perkins peered up. Perkins waved once, and Jade waggled the wing in reply. In the front cockpit, Sam pointed to the northwest and Jade turned the nose in that direction.

Fifteen minutes later, at fifteen hundred feet, they left the main farms and crossed the fringe of wild Africa. She dropped to eight hundred feet and passed over a mixed herd of hartebeeste and reedbuck. Jade spotted the spread-out spiral horns of a few greater kudu along the edge. The entire herd took off as one mass at their approach, twisting and flowing like a living river. Jade tapped Sam on the shoulder and pointed. The plane had startled a rhino that stood his ground, pivoting in an attempt to spot this noisy intruder. Jade laughed at his confusion and flew on, climbing to leave him in peace. Conversation wasn’t possible over the noise, so she could only hope Sam saw him, too.

She checked the fuel gauge and the water-temperature gauge, saw both read fine, but decided it was probably time to head back to the Thompsons’ farm. As much as she wanted to stay aloft, listening to the OX-5 engine’s throaty purr, she knew that fuel was tight and Sam’s funds were limited. It would be selfish to deplete either of them, especially when he had plans to film aloft. Jade turned the Jenny’s nose south-east.

They passed over Harding’s farm and the acres of sisal, grown for its rope-producing fibers. The outbuildings lay in an orderly arrangement around several animal pens. Jade saw a large number of sheep in a pasture, two horses, and the usual exotic “pets,” what looked like a Thomson’s gazelle and a zebra. Two large dogs lolled near the house. She crossed over to what was probably Alwyn Chalmers’ farm, observing the regular rows of his maize fields. More notable was the expansive stable that dwarfed his house, and the large exercise track. A few goats milled around a trough next to several horses.

From Chalmers’ farm, she headed east, following the dirt road to the Thompsons’ coffee farm. She buzzed the house to let Maddy know they were back before going on to Sam’s makeshift airfield. Jade spiraled round to drop altitude and bring the Jenny into the wind, making sure she had a long run in front of her. She shut off the engine and angled in, gliding. The sudden absence of the purring engine gave her stomach butterflies.

This is it, kid. Don’t crack her up.

Jade started to level off about fifty feet from the ground, until she was only six feet off. Soon she felt the wheels pummel the ground and the tail skid rake behind her. She pulled back on the stick to keep the nose up, lest the Jenny should pitch forward. A moment later, they were earthbound and at a standstill.

Jade removed her goggles and tugged off the leather helmet, freeing her black hair, the waves damp with sweat. Sam clambered over the cockpit sides, stepped onto the wing pads, and jumped down, ready to help Jade. She didn’t need it, but had already learned that it was important to Sam to play that role, at least at his plane, so she patiently waited for his assistance. Once on the ground, they embraced, laughing, their faces flushed from excitement and the wind.

“Did you see the rhino?” asked Jade. “Poor thing couldn’t figure out who to attack.” She started to slip from Sam’s embrace, but he pulled her back, taking her by the shoulders.

“Now I can kiss you properly without anyone around to see,” he said. He leaned in and caught her mouth in his, letting his lips caress hers gently, then with more vigor and urgency.

Jade, heady from the exhilaration of soaring above her beloved Africa, reeled under the pressure. Her legs went weak, and suddenly, she couldn’t feel the ground at all. After a moment she realized that Sam had wrapped his arms around her midriff and lifted her into the air. She tasted a hint of machine oil on his lips, felt the tantalizing tickle of his mustache. As her toes again made contact with the earth, Jade pulled back slightly and placed her hands on his chest.

“Nice to see you, too, Sam. Do you do that to all the people you take up in your plane?”

“No,” he said, his voice husky. “Only the ones I’m in love with.”

Jade was immediately swamped by the nervousness she always felt when a man expressed a serious attraction to her. She stepped away from the plane and him. “Now, Sam, don’t talk that way. You’ve known me barely six months.” She took hold of the tail to help him turn the plane. Together they pulled it by the lower wing grips into his high-walled
boma
. Jade unlatched the swinging gate to close off the entrance to curious animals while Sam took out the oil can and started lubricating the engine and Jade tied down the plane. With the rainy season over, they didn’t bother with tarps and left the makeshift hangar open to the sky.

Sam put down the oil can. “I know you well enough, lady, and you know it.” He came up behind her and kissed her nape. “I’m just waiting for you to realize it.”

Jade turned and laid a hand gently on his cheek. “Just give me some time, Sam, please. When you talk this way, I feel like someone’s trying to hobble me.”

He clasped his hands behind her back. “How can you say that after I just helped you defy old Newton and his gravity? I’m not going to hobble you, Jade. I’m trying to give you wings.”

“Are you, Sam? Sometimes I feel as though you want to tie me down.” She nodded her head at the plane’s restraining cords.

“What are you talking about?” A look of genuine surprise swept over his face.

“Well, this new job for one thing. Admit it. You weren’t very happy when I took it.”

“It’s dangerous.”

“I told you, I just handle the ropes and take photographs.”

He leaned in closer. “Is that what you were doing when you played the part of leopard bait? Taking pictures? Or was that handling the ropes? Besides,” he added before Jade could counter, “for all I know, you might plan on roping a crocodile next.”

“Sam! I hardly think—”

He put his hands up in a gesture of appeasement. “Jade, one of the traits I love the most about you is your adventurous spirit.”

“Then why …”

“Because one of your more
maddening
traits is your tendency to rush off on some harebrained scheme without a thought for your own safety.” He threw up his hands and let them fall to his sides. “It’s as if you’re trying to prove something to the world.”

Jade stood silently, her arms folded in front of her, and watched him, her cool green eyes studying his face. Finally, she relaxed her posture and sighed. “You’re going to have to learn to trust me, Sam.”

He didn’t reply. She kissed him lightly on the lips. “Come on. Neville and Maddy will have heard us fly over the house and wonder where we are.” She secured the makeshift hangar gate behind them.

They walked the quarter mile back to the Thompsons’ house in silence, communicating by a nod and an occasional gesture just as they did in the air. Jade appreciated this ability in Sam more than she had ever thought possible. He, like her, didn’t feel the need to fill every gap with banter. When they came to the house, they found a note tacked onto the door-frame. Sam made a low whistle after he read it.

“Something wrong?” asked Jade. “Did somebody get hurt?”

“No,” answered Sam. Then he immediately amended the statement. “Well, yes, in a manner of speaking.” He handed the note to Jade, who recognized Maddy’s close, neat hand.

Sam, Jade:

We have gone into Nairobi at the “request”
of Inspector Finch. You are likewise requested to come at once. It would appear that the word “suicide” has been replaced by “murder.”

Maddy

CHAPTER 4

Most people either learn or instinctively feel the power that some
wield over others and adopt deferential attitudes to them,
learning to curb their tongue until it’s safe. It’s a temporary restraint
that is even seen in the African cultures. The Maasai have a proverb
about it: “What is said over the dead lion’s body could not be
said to him alive.”

—The Traveler