Sleuth on Safari Page 5

  She looked over her shoulder toward the lodge’s entrance. “Why aren’t the police here yet?”

  “Police?” I asked.

  She poured herself a cup of tea and returned to the table. “Weren’t the police called?”

  “Why would they be?” Jack asked. He signaled me and I brought over the carafe of juice.

  “Don’t the police have to investigate every unexpected death?” Hazel replied. She looked over her shoulder again.

  “In America, sure. But we’re not in America, are we?” Jack answered.

  Hazel shrugged. “True, but I’d think the police or a park ranger would have been called.” She returned to staring at her cup of tea. “Shouldn’t they be alerted that there—”

  “Just eat your breakfast, Hazel,” Colin interrupted. His look alone would have shut me up.

  “Umm—” She hesitated. “Shouldn’t someone look into the wild animal on the loose?”

  “We’re in a middle of a national wildlife park. I think they know,” Geri answered.

  “It wasn’t one animal that did that,” Jack corrected Geri. “That was a pack of hyenas.”

  “But shouldn’t the park rangers be alerted? Won’t these hyenas start seeking out humans and human blood? Now that they have a taste for it?” Zaden asked.

  Sabrina sneered and put her glass of tomato juice down.

  “I’m sure the lodge has contacted the local authorities,” Geri assured us. “But they don’t want to go publicizing the incident.” She looked over her shoulders to make sure there were no staff within earshot. “Bad for business.”

  “It’s gonna be hard to keep this under wraps, don’t you think?” Hazel asked. “Did you Facebook or tweet it out yet?” she asked Zaden.

  He shook his head and returned to his plate of scrambled eggs, smothered in ketchup. I looked away and prayed I wouldn’t vomit.

  “Maybe that’s why lodges have such terrible internet,” Jack said. “So we can’t tweet or Facebook or Instagram or whatever the latest internet thing is…” He looked to Zaden, then Zonah for help. They didn’t look up from their plates. “See, it’s just us. We nine are the only ones who know,” Jack told her.

  “But the staff. They’ll tell people,” Hazel pointed out. “This will be through the community fast.”

  “And in a few months, it’s a cautionary tale for travelers about keeping your door locked and always requesting the escort at night,” Colin told us.

  Hazel shrugged. “So the police won’t be coming? Won’t be interviewing all of us?”

  Colin shot her another look.

  “Doubt it,” Jack answered, between bites of eggs. A thin trail of ketchup dripped down his chin. It conjured images of what the hyenas may have looked like mid-meal. I covered my mouth, hoping not to vomit.

  Hazel looked relieved and sipped her tea. Her plate, like mine, remained empty.

  The noises of the morning returned to utensils clambering and mouths chewing. My stomach growled and I reached for the basket of pastries.

  “What’ll happen to his body? What’ll happen to his luggage?” Sabrina asked.

  The image of his body flashed in my mind again and I dropped the cheese and apricot Danish.

  “We saw them take the body,” Geri reminded us. “Maybe they call the embassy? They’ll contact his next of kin or emergency contact.”

  “And what about all his stuff?” Sabrina asked.

  “Why? Do you want something?” Jack asked.

  Sabrina recoiled in her seat as if Jack had pushed her. “Oh no. I…I didn’t mean…”

  Jack had been teasing and continued without realizing she had answered. “I did like his hat. Is that up for grabs?”

  “That hat would not suit you,” his wife told him.

  “And it suited him?” Jack answered, his joking tone gone. “Are you saying he looked better in it than I would?” He slammed his knife down on his plate and glared at Geri.

  Having all witnessed the fight last night, and not wanting to relive it, no one spoke. I didn’t even breathe. But we could all hear Jack’s labored breathing.

  Eager to defuse the tension, Charlotte answered, “The lodge will take care of it. I’m sure a guy like that had travel insurance. The manager will contact the travel agency he booked through and get it sorted.”

  Jack threw his napkin on his plate and slid his chair back. I tried not to cringe as the noise of the grinding legs squealed. He stomped out of the dining area.

  Letting a few moments pass, until everyone returned to their breakfasts, I got up to leave. “I’m going back to the room. I’ll see you later,” I told Charlotte. Mouth full of pancake, she nodded and waved me off.

  I passed the gift shop, the boutique, as they called it, on my way. Jack was standing in front of a mirror with a dark brown, wide-brimmed hat similar to the one worn by Dr. Higgins.

  “Looks good on you,” I shouted in.

  “Thanks.” He took another look at himself and nodded approval. “I do look better than a dead guy.”

  Game Drive

  Leticia and Sonny had instructed us that the afternoon game drive would commence as planned, minus one.

  Charlotte and I arrived in reception a few minutes before three and waited for the others. It took Charlotte a second time to tell me to change my shirt from a blue one to a more suitably colored one.

  “Rookie,” Jack greeted me when he and Geri arrived. “Glad to see you have changed from your offending shirt.” Geri slapped him. “Come on, if she had worn a sensibly colored shirt earlier we would have had a lovely morning game drive. But noooo…she has to go back to her room, unlawfully enter—”

  “Hey!” I interrupted, unsuccessfully.

  “His room and find his mutilated body. If we had left on time, we could have left that pain in the a—”

  “Jack! Language! And don’t speak ill of the dead,” Geri yelled.

  “Excuse me, ladies.” He tipped his tan canvas hat at us. “We would have left Dr. Higgins behind and had a lovely morning and been spared all the gory images. Instead, we were stuck here all morning.” He walked up to me and gave me a wink. “I blame you for this.”

  “Are you going to be the new troublesome traveler?” I asked. “Because we all know what happened to the last one.”

  “Naomi!” Charlotte admonished me.

  “The hyenas got him.” Jack laughed, like a hyena. Not everyone found it funny.

  I bit my lip to hold in the laugh, while Charlotte rolled her eyes. Jack’s cackle really would give one nightmares and I wondered again if it had.

  Sonny and Ray arrived and called us out to our ride. “Well, at least I don’t have to sit up front,” Jack said. Geri slapped him again. “What? I’m just trying to look on the bright side. His death has brought me joy. I doubt he brought any joy when he was alive.”

  Sabrina’s eyes widened at the disrespectful comment. She nudged Zaden and he climbed in the Land Cruiser, followed by Zonah. The guys kept their heads down as they slid into the first row. The Vankeys went in the second. Not wanting to split up the Wallaces, Charlotte sat in the second row and I headed for the third.

  “Ready to find some wildlife?” Sonny yelled out, standing on the driver’s seat.

  “Yes!” we yelled out with just a little less exuberance than we had the day before.

  “More importantly, Ray, are you ready to find us some wildlife?”

  Ray saluted and hopped in his seat, on the front of the Land Cruiser. He was wearing a long-sleeved shirt and I grew sweaty just looking at him. We drove away from the lodge and away from any sign of civilization.

  It was as if the morning never occurred. We each sat, cameras at the ready, for whatever great sight the next turn would bring. Ray pointed to the right, then pointed straight, then held his hand up to stop. He cupped his hand around his ear and listened. Colin leaned forward to ask Sonny a question but Sonny held his hand to his lips to silence him. We sat for thirty seconds while Ray listened to something the r
est of us couldn’t hear.

  With exuberance, he pointed to the left and we took off slowly.

  A minute later, we were through a clearing, in front of a slow-moving river. We stopped and saw a large herd of African, or Cape, buffalo walking along the bank of the river, across from us. Ray pointed to the right and told us, “I heard the impalas’ warning call. I knew danger was close.”

  And that danger was three lions, older than cubs but not full grown. “A few years old,” Sonny whispered. They were crouched down watching the approaching herd, having camouflaged themselves in the tall grasses.

  From what Sonny deemed a safe distance, and I thought was too close, we watched the lions as they observed their prey.

  Three buffalo, one large male, a smaller female, and one smaller one, their baby maybe, straggled away from the herd and the lions perked up. There were murmurings in our group and clicks from our various photographic equipment. Sabrina clung to Zaden as the scene unfolded. When the lions felt the three were far enough away from the safety of the herd, they attacked.

  They sprung from their hiding space with more speed than I expected. The three buffalo turn and ran, all in different directions, leaving the youngest and the smallest unprotected—the lions’ plan all along. The three lions attacked the calf and brought it down. Several of us gasped at the ferocity and quickness of it.

  “Oh no! The baby,” Sabrina cried. The others, with less maternal instincts maybe, shushed her. We watched in silence as they kept the struggling young buffalo down, a few feet from the river. As the fight continued, the four slid toward the river.

  Charlotte covered her face and watched the scene unfold through the spaces between her fingers.

  The lions struggled to keep the young buffalo down. The grunts and the growls of the fight reached us a few hundred feet away.

  One of the lions jumped away from the water.

  “A crocodile!” Colin cried out, pointing to the river’s edge.

  The crocodile and the three lions fought over the small buffalo. Patches of black could be seen in between them, struggling. The calf slid more into the river, as the crocodile appeared to be winning. A tug-of-war for dinner. The lions fought back harder to keep their hard-fought meal. Outnumbered, the crocodile finally lost and slithered back into the water. Three against one—it was a closer fight than I would have expected.

  Fixated on the fight, we didn’t notice the herd of buffalo returning. Geri tapped me on the shoulder and pointed. “They’re coming back,” she whispered. “They’re coming back for the baby.”

  “It’s too late,” Zonah mumbled. Sabrina reached for him and held his hand.

  The large herd of black slowly approached. Packed together, they were a formidable obstacle.

  The herd kept approaching. The lions were trapped. The water, and who knows how many waiting crocodiles, were behind them. And the buffalo were closing in. The large buffalo from earlier, the baby’s father perhaps, ran in, head down, and rammed into one of the lions. It flew in the air. The other two held the baby down briefly but their energy and will were decreasing.

  I wondered why the buffalo tried. There was no way the little one could have survived an attack by three lions and a crocodile. Just cut your losses, I wanted to tell them. Save yourselves.

  But then there was a wiggle. The herd, as a unit, stepped forward. Something black was squirming underneath the two lions. A large buffalo stepped forward and the lions retracted back.

  And the baby stood!

  “It’s alive!” Charlotte gasped. “It’s alive!”

  “Oh my goodness, how did it survive that?” Geri asked.

  “I thought the lions would just rip its throat out,” Zaden said.

  “Buffalo have very thick and tough hides,” Sonny whispered. “The lions were working together to suffocate it or break its windpipe. The three were trying to keep it down. But that calf struggled until the cavalry arrived.”

  The young one was accepted back into the herd. Their large numbers insulated it from further dangers, for now.

  The unbelievable scene now over, we drove away, back over the bumpy terrain. We returned to the roadway. On my left, the herd of buffalo resumed their walk together. No stragglers. The lions were long gone, in search of new prey.

  I heard a cackle behind me. Hyenas were roaming around, along the roadway.

  They had been watching too.

  Waiting for their chance.

  I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. I’d just watched lions attack a buffalo and there were noises. There were grunts. There were squeals. There were footsteps.

  We had passed the cackling hyenas afterward. They communicated with noises, like we communicated with words. Ray had found the enfolding drama because of the impalas’ calls.

  Life had volume.

  Death had volume.

  How did Dr. Higgins die and we didn’t hear it?

  Charlotte and I were right next door. How did we not hear it? He couldn’t have been farther away than the calf had been from us.

  How, in the middle of a clear and quiet night, did we not hear him struggle? Not hear him yell in terror at the sight of the hyenas? Not hear him yell for help?

  Something wasn’t right.

  Sundowners

  Sonny traversed the dusty roads for another hour, with Ray pointing as necessary to direct him. We clicked photos of kudus, elephants, and a lone giraffe. Each animal sighting was magical in its own way.

  I was relieved that we didn’t observe any more life-and-death battles. I wondered if the others were also glad. Maybe someone had a bloodlust now and wanted to see more.

  By sundowners, I no longer saw my traveling companions as fellow tourists but as suspects.

  The sun was setting. A blaze of orange colors inked the sky. The receding sun’s rays gleamed through the wisps of clouds. I should have been taking photos of the magnificent sight. The array of colors from the horizon as the sun lowered was like no other sunset I’d ever seen before. The heat of the day gone, I put my long-sleeved button-up shirt on.

  Ray and Sonny poured everyone a drink, wines, soda, beer, whatever they chose. Ray often pulled down on the sleeve of his shirt. Now with the sun lowering in the sky and the temperature slowly dropping, a long-sleeved shirt was a sensible option. But he looked uncomfortable.

  Sonny held up his juice and said “Cheers.” We followed suit. Except Ray, who didn’t raise his arm.

  With white wine in hand, I walked along the outskirts of the group and observed them. Small groups began to form. Sabrina went with Zaden, who had announced he had to go to the bathroom. I waited for Zonah to walk over to Charlotte to chat her up but he didn’t. He stood by himself and waited for their return. His facial hair was thicker today. He stared off into the horizon, away from the rest of us.

  The Vankeys were talking to the Wallaces. I walked toward them, but kept my distance.

  “When are you staying at the treehouse?” Hazel asked them.

  “Fourth night,” Geri answered.

  “What is she talking about?” Jack asked.

  “One night we get to stay in the treehouse. It’s miles away from the lodge and everyone.” She pulled herself under his arm. “Ooh! It’ll be so romantic! Just you and me under the stars.”

  Jack rolled his eyes and took a long sip of his beer. “Will there be beer?” he asked.

  Colin assured him the complimentary booze would be stocked. “They’ll leave you food and drinks in a cooler.”

  “We stayed last night,” Hazel told Geri. “What a treat. Nothing like that back home in Canada.”

  Damn, I thought. Two off my list. They weren’t even at the lodge last night. I wandered away as Hazel prattled on about the treehouse.

  Six to go. Charlotte was talking to Sabrina, who had returned from Zaden’s foray behind a bush. Five, I corrected myself. Charlotte was another one off the list.

  Just because she was family didn’t mean I didn’t have to elimina
te her from the list of suspects. But I would have found her bloody clothes and the murder weapon when I went through her suitcase, looking for batteries for my camera, while she was napping this afternoon.

  Night

  Nightly routines completed, we got into bed. I stared at the white netting above our heads. It had been a long, strange day.

  “You asked me our first day what I thought of them, what do you think of them now?” I asked.

  She fluffed her pillows. “Nice group, I guess.”

  “Do you believe them?” I asked.

  “Believe who?” Charlotte asked.

  “Our fellow travelers.”

  “About what?”

  “That Dr. Higgins’ death was an accident.”

  “As opposed to what?”

  “Murder.”

  “Murder? What are you talking about?”

  “Come on, he was a fastidious guy. A real rules follower. Do you really think he would have left his door open?”

  “Maybe they opened it.”

  “They who? The hyenas? Really, Charlotte. You think the hyenas opened the door?”

  I got out of bed, got myself tangled in the mosquito netting briefly, and walked to the door. I looked at the secure lock on the door and turned it. I started to open the door.

  “Don’t!” she yelled. “What happens if they are waiting outside the door…waiting to attack?”

  I looked through the peephole. “No hyenas.”

  “You wouldn’t be able to see them. They’re not that tall!”

  I took another peek out, trying to see high and low, left and right. But there was nothing.

  “Get back into bed. Go to sleep,” she pleaded. I took a last look at the door and then obliged. “Make sure that netting is secure. I don’t want any bugs getting in.”

  I did as ordered and then got back into bed, but I couldn’t let it go. “You really think a pack of wild animals could unlock that door?”

  “Maybe he didn’t lock it.”

  “Fine, you really think the pack could get that door open?”

  “Maybe…if they worked together.”