department?’
‘As I said, no comment.’
‘For fuck’s sake,’ snapped Parkes. ‘I can’t believe I’m wasting my time talking to you. I’m calling the authorities. They can sort it out.’
‘I wouldn’t do that if I were you,’ said Carver matter-of-factly.
‘Why not?’
‘Well, in the first place, if I had killed anyone – hypothetically – I couldn’t let you call the cops, could I?’
‘I’d like to see you stop me.’
‘And in the second,’ said Carver, ignoring him, ‘if you have any regard at all for the memory of Wendell Klerk and his family, then you won’t go public with this. The scandal would destroy his reputation and wreck everything he ever worked for. But most importantly, you don’t want to do it because any delay is going to make it more likely that Mabeki harms or even kills Zalika Stratten, if he hasn’t done so already.’
Parkes frowned. ‘Miss Stratten? What’s she got to do with it?’
‘Mabeki abducted her yesterday morning, while we were in Hong Kong. I tried to stop him, but he’d obviously got the whole thing planned while I was still blundering around like the proverbial one-legged man in an arse-kicking contest. I’m counting on the fact that he’s brought her back to Malemba, and I’m hoping you’re both going to help me get her back. Look, I know you and Zalika weren’t exactly best friends for ever, Brianna…’
‘You don’t know anything about…’ She seemed to run out of energy halfway through the sentence.
‘About what?’ Carver asked.
‘Oh, forget it. I guess I’m just sick of all this. Why was Wendell trying to bring down governments just for some stupid mine, when he already had enough money to last him a hundred lifetimes? That’s what he could never understand about me. I didn’t love him for the money. I loved him despite the money. But look what the money’s done to him… and to Zalika.’
‘None of this is her fault.’
‘You don’t think so? Well, she was there at all your meetings, as I recall, looking down her nose at me while Wendell told me to go fix the chef’s souffles. She was right up to her pretty neck in it, so it’s hard for me to feel too sorry for her now.’ Brianna grimaced. ‘Listen to me, I sound like a total bitch. Just let me pack and I’ll get out of here.’
Parkes put a consoling hand on her shoulder. ‘We’ll leave you to it, Miss Latrelle. Come on, Carver, let’s give the lady some peace.’
They went back outside, and Parkes sat down on the end of one of the upholstered sun loungers arrayed beside the pool.
‘Pull up a seat,’ he said, pointing at the other loungers. He took a packet of cigarettes from the chest pocket of his shirt. ‘Smoke?’
‘No thanks.’
‘Suit yourself. So, tell me what you want to do.’
‘Let’s start with Mabeki. I don’t think he’s going to kill Zalika Stratten. Not yet. But she might wish she were dead, the things he’s going to do to her.’
‘I’ve worked with Zalika Stratten. It’s not a nice thought, a girl like her with a sick bastard like Mabeki.’
‘No, it’s not. And I feel about it the same way you do about Klerk. She was taken on my watch. It’s down to me to get her back.’
Parkes blew a long stream of smoke into the clear morning air. ‘Ja, that I understand.’
‘So then the question is: where’s he keeping her? I can’t believe he’d have her in Sindele. It’s too risky. He doesn’t want the outside world knowing he’s got a kidnapped woman. But there is somewhere that makes perfect sense: the place where they both grew up, where Mabeki nursed his hatred and which he believes should belong to him by rights anyway – the Stratten Reserve.’
Parkes took a long drag on his cigarette. ‘It’s a helluva long shot, Carver. Malemba’s a bloody big country. She could be anywhere.’
‘She could, yes. But I’m certain it’s the reserve. Hell, it’s not just the Strattens that kept Mabeki from owning the land, Gushungo did, too. Mabeki killed the Strattens, then just when he was ready to claim his kingdom, his boss took it away from him. I know this bastard, the way he nurses his grudges. He wants that land. And if he can imprison Zalika Stratten, of all people, there, that’ll just make taking it, and her, all the sweeter.’
‘Let’s suppose you’re right. What do you plan to do about it?’
‘Go there, free her, get her across the border. Then I’m going back for Mabeki.’
Parkes laughed. ‘Sounds like you’re planning a busy day. What are you going to do tomorrow, cure cancer? Bring peace to the Middle East?’
‘No, that’s not my job. Getting Zalika is. Sorting Mabeki is. So, you going to help me or not?’
Parkes stubbed out his cigarette on the paving, threw it into the nearest shrubbery, and immediately pulled another cigarette from the box. He took his time lighting it, then took another long drag, holding the smoke in his lungs before blowing it out equally slowly. At last he glanced across at Carver and said, ‘Ja, I’m in. My men, too.’
‘How well do you know the Stratten Reserve?’
‘Can’t help you there, brother. Never been there in my life.’
‘Well that’s a problem, then, because I haven’t either,’ Carver admitted. ‘But I know a man who has. You happen to know what Justus Iluko is doing today?’
‘Ja, I do, as it happens. He’s got a court date this afternoon, his kids too. The lawyer’s managed to combine all their cases into one. She wants to establish them all as victims of the same conspiracy. So now they’ve got a bail hearing. Not that they’ll be offered any, of course.’
‘How far is the court from the jail?’
‘Dunno, man. But we can easily get a streetmap of Buweku and find out.’
‘And they’ll be taken there by car or truck?’
‘I guess.’
‘Then that’s when we’ll grab them. How soon can you get us to Buweku?’
Parkes almost gagged on the smoke as he burst out laughing. ‘I’ll say one thing for you, Carver,’ he gasped. ‘You don’t fucking hang about, do you?’
80
‘Hello, Mary, how have you been?’
Zalika Stratten smiled wearily as she greeted the woman she had last seen a decade ago. That day, the day her old world was destroyed, she had been a plain, gawky girl of seventeen and Mary Ncube a junior housemaid. Now Mary was the housekeeper, a plump, imperious woman who ruled her domestic kingdom with a warm heart for those who stuck to her rules and a tongue like a rhino-hide whip for those who did not. She had spent her whole working life catering first to her country’s richest family and then to its president, his family and his guests. Over the years, she had developed an air of haughty self-assurance that made her seem almost grander than the people she served. But when she caught sight of Zalika Stratten, all that was overwhelmed by a wave of emotion.
‘Miss Zalika!’ Mary cried, frantically trying to wipe away the tears that were flooding down her round cheeks. ‘It is so wonderful to see you again. Let me look at you.’ She stepped back and examined Zalika through watery eyes. ‘Oh, you are so pretty now. But so thin, and with such dark circles under your eyes. And what is this?’ Mary pointed at the scratches and bruises on Zalika’s upper arm, left by the nylon straps that had bound her tight to the stretcher on which she’d been carried on to the plane in Macau. ‘Have these jackals been mistreating you?’
Zalika looked wearily at the armed men, cradling their AK-47s, who were arrayed in a semi-circle behind her in the hall of the old Stratten house. ‘I’m sorry about my new boyfriends,’ she said. ‘I can’t seem to get rid of them.’
She tried to smile. It was supposed to be a joke. But her brain was numbed by exhaustion, stress and the after-effects of the drugs still working their way through her system.
