‘So animals such as lions could feasibly jump over the fences?’ Tom asked, doing his best to sound unperturbed.
‘We’ve got a resident leopard that manages to wander around at will. I think he walks under the fence. You might get to see him if you’re lucky,’ Carla said brightly.
‘Right.’
Inside the suite he could see why Tinga charged what it did. This was as luxurious as he imagined an African safari lodge could be. The room was arranged in a linear layout with the separate lounge, bedroom and bathroom all facing the river through large plate-glass windows. Sliding doors opened from the lounge onto a private deck with table, chairs, sun beds and a personal plunge pool. Tom knelt and dipped a finger in. It was heated. Of course.
Back inside there was airconditioning, a sound system, widescreen television and a DVD player, and a phone and computer connection. The bathroom boasted a deep tub on a raised platform, for game viewing while washing, and a shower big enough for two.
‘I’ll leave you to settle in,’ Carla said.
She was a beautiful, sexy, apparently single woman. Why wouldn’t she and Nick have become involved? Tom wondered. It wasn’t a particularly professional thing to do, although Nick wouldn’t have been the first protection officer to get lucky on an away trip. Tom thought that he’d have to report back to Shut-tleworth and maybe get Carla to print out hard copies of Nick’s emails. If Nick had been telling her he was looking forward to getting back to South Africa to see her, that was a good indicator he had no plans to skive off from a free trip here.
Tom dumped his bags and then, using the key Carla had given him, went next door to the room which would be used by Greeves. This part of the recce was second nature to him.
He walked through the room first, making sure the layout and orientation were the same as his. He checked the locks on the entry door and the sliding door out onto the private deck, testing them, making sure they could be secured from inside. He’d get a list from Carla later of how many duplicate keys and master keys the lodge held, and who had access to them. Walking out onto the deck he looked to see if any of the other suites overlooked this one. As he had expected, privacy was part of the package at Tinga, which was good, but it also meant Tom couldn’t keep an eye on the exterior of Greeves’s suite. The bush was as thick around this room as it was around all the others — and that was a minus.
The lack of other team members continued to niggle at Tom. There were ways around this, though. The police at Skukuza didn’t have the manpower to provide night duty uniform cover, so Tom intended bringing a passive alarm system back with him from the UK. He would set up infra-red sensors on the deck and outside Greeves’s door, so that if the beams were broken Tom would get a warning signal in his room. The risk wouldn’t normally warrant the extra security, but in this case technology could help make up for the lack of round-the-clock coverage.
Tom checked the room’s landline was working, and noted the internet connection as well. He would check out the private dining room in which Greeves and his South African counterpart would take their meals when he went up for his own, after the game drive. He’d also put Carla on notice that he’d need a list of restaurant staff, cleaners and other people who had access to the areas the officials would visit. He wanted dates of birth and other details of new employees. He’d give the list to Sannie to run through the South African criminal records system.
Satisfied for the time being, Tom locked the door to Greeves’s room and went back to his own. He changed out of his business shirt, jacket and chinos into a pair of dark blue shorts and a white T-shirt, and swapped his brogues for a pair of trainers and white socks. Feeling himself starting to tire after the flight and long drive, he grabbed a can of Coke out of the well-stocked mini-bar. There was a knock at the door.
‘Shame, man, you can’t go into the bush dressed like that!’ Sannie said. She was wearing green shorts — which were very short — rubber sandals with Velcro straps decorated with some sort of geometric African pattern, and a sleeveless khaki button-up shirt which hung over her holster.
‘Why not?’ he asked, mildly offended.
‘We’ll be getting out of the vehicle at some point. I’m not having some bloody elephant charge that snow- white target you’re wearing! Stay here, I’ll be back.’
Miffed, Tom turned on the television and watched some people in a soap opera talking Afrikaans. He understood not a word. Then there was another knock on the door.
‘Here,’ Sannie said. ‘Your new best friend Carla said this should fit your “big broad shoulders”. Jissis, but that woman is transparent.’
She walked into the suite while he pulled off his white T-shirt and donned a khaki golfing shirt with a Tinga lion’s-head logo on the left breast. ‘You think there was something going on between her and Nick?’ Tom asked.
Sannie laughed. ‘ Think? I know. I caught her coming out of his suite one night on an advance visit. She’s hot for cops, that girl.’
‘What do you think?’ Tom said, showing off the new shirt.
‘At least we won’t be killed by an elephant. Let’s go.’
Tea, filter coffee and a selection of cakes and homemade biscuits were laid out in the reception area when Sannie and Tom returned. An American family, parents and three children, was busy clearing the spread. At Sannie’s suggestion she and Tom skipped afternoon tea and headed outside to where two Toyota Land Cruisers were parked. Carla introduced them to their guide, whose name was Duncan Nyari. ‘It means buffalo,’ he said. ‘Nyari, that is.’
The vehicles were open on all sides but each had a canvas roof supported by a metal framework. In the back were three rows of tiered seats covered in green rip-stop canvas. Duncan gave them a briefing which came down to a few key rules: don’t stand up, as the movement would alarm any animals they were watching; keep the noise down; and don’t get out of the vehicle unless told to.
‘You are working for Mr Robert Greeves?’ Duncan asked Tom as he and Sannie climbed into the seat immediately behind the driver’s.
‘Yes.’
‘He is a good man. He loves Africa and its animals, and the people too. He has provided some textbooks for my eldest son for his university studies — even though I did not ask him for these. He is a good friend.’
Tom nodded, silently impressed. Greeves had a reputation as a hard arse in politics — some in the media called him ‘Iron Bob’ — so it was interesting to hear he had a human side as well. ‘Will we follow the same route today that you’ll be taking Mr Greeves and Mr Dule during the visit?’
Duncan shrugged. ‘Generally we go where we think the animals are — we get calls on the radio from our vehicles and talk to other guides and people on the road. However, we will stay in the area of our concession for the most part for the ministers’ visit, so you won’t have too much contact with the other park users.’
‘Going where the animals are sounds fine. Unpredictability’s good.’ In Tom’s line of work the most dangerous periods were when people were entering and leaving buildings — homes, offices, even the heavily guarded Houses of Parliament — at set times. The things which couldn’t be changed provided opportunities to potential assassins.
As they drove out of Tinga’s electronic gates Duncan explained that Tinga was one of a number of private concessions within the Kruger National Park. The concessions had been awarded several years earlier as a means of raising revenue for the National Parks Board. The old Jakkalsbessie camp had been partially destroyed by catastrophic floods which hit the park in February 2000 and, rather than rebuild it, the government had decided to lease the site and a parcel of land to a private operator for exclusive game drives. Tinga’s concession encompassed a block between the parallel-running Sabie and Sand rivers — prime game-viewing country with year-round water. The lodge’s vehicles were also free to roam the public roads in the national park, which were open to holiday- makers from South Africa and abroad. However, inside their own concession they were able to drive off road into the bush — something strictly forbidden in the rest of the park.
Sannie produced a map book of the Kruger Park, the pages of which were illustrated with drawings of wild animals, birds and reptiles, and descriptions of their behaviour. Tom followed their progress as they turned onto a sealed road and crossed the Sand River via a single-lane low-level bridge. Duncan pulled into a passing bay to let a car towing a caravan pass. ‘Hippo,’ he said, pointing to their right.
Tom put down the map book and grabbed the camera from his day pack. ‘They say the hippo kills more people than any other animal in Africa, but I don’t believe this,’ Duncan said.
