Vulture is a Patient Bird

"Go to the medical chest, Kemosa, and bring me a syringe and a pair of rubber gloves."

When Kemosa had left, Kahlenberg sat back, looking at the small bottle. His mind went back four hundred years. Caesar Borgia might also have contemplated a similar phial of poison, planning the end of an enemy, feeling the same pleasure that Kahlenberg was experiencing.

He was still sitting motionless when Kemosa returned with the syringe and gloves.

"Thank you," and Kahlenberg waved him away.

When the door had closed, he opened a drawer and took out the glass box containing the ring. He took out the ring and put it on the fourth finger of his right hand. He studied the flashing diamonds thoughtfully, then he turned the ring so the diamonds were worn inside. The plain silver band now showing looked very innocent. He took off the ring and laid it on the blotter. Then he put on the surgical gloves. Screwing the watchmaker's glass into his eye, he slid open the trap in the ring. Then laying the ring down again, he uncorked the bottle and drew some of the colourless liquid into the syringe. Very carefully he inserted the needle of the syringe into the reservoir of the ring and equally carefully pressed the plunger. When, through the watchmaker's glass, he saw the liquid was level with the top of the reservoir, he withdrew the needle and slid the diamond trap into place. Laying down the syringe, he wiped the ring on his handkerchief, taking time over the operation. Still without removing his gloves, he began shaking the ring sharply over the blotter, looking for any signs of a leak in the reservoir. Finally satisfied, he put the ring in a drawer, put his handkerchief in an envelope and sent for Kemosa again. When the old man came in, he told him to destroy the syringe, the poison, the gloves and the handkerchief.

"Make certain they are all destroyed," he said. "You understand? Be very careful not to touch the needle of the syringe."

"Yes, master."

When he had gone, Kahlenberg took out the ring and regarded it. Was this now a lethal weapon? he asked himself. The witch doctor must be over eighty years of age. Had he lost his cunning? Could he be trusted? If the poison were lethal, could the tiny hollow needle, hidden in the cluster of diamonds, have become blocked with dust? If it had he would be wasting his time, and this was something Kahlenberg never tolerated. He had to know for certain. He sat thinking, then making up his mind, he put the ring on the fourth finger of his right hand and turned the ring the wrong way round. He propelled himself into the garden, followed by Hindenburg.

It took him a little time to find Zwide, a Bantu about whom Kemosa had often complained, saying this man was not only incurably lazy but also ill-treated his wife. He was due to be dismissed at the end of the month, and to Kahlenberg's callous thinking no loss to anyone.

He found him squatting in the shade, half asleep. When he saw Kahlenberg, he rose hurriedly to his feet, grabbed up a hoe and began feverishly weeding a nearby rose bed.

Kahlenberg stopped his chair beside him. Hindenburg sat, his eyes watchful.

"I hear you are leaving at the end of the month, Zwide," Kahlenberg said quietly.

The man nodded dumbly, stiff with fear.

Kahlenberg stretched out the ringed hand.

"I wish you good fortune. Shake my hand."

Zwide hesitated, his eyes rolling with embarrassment, then reluctantly stretched out his hand. Kahlenberg caught the dirty pink palmed hand in a hard, firm grip, his eyes intent on the man's face. He saw him give a little start. Then Kahlenberg released the hand and set the chair in motion. When he had gone a few metres, he looked back.

Zwide was staring with a bewildered expression at his hand and as Kahlenberg watched, Zwide raised a finger to his mouth and licked it.

Kahlenberg went on his way. At least the needle had scratched, he thought. In twelve hours time he would know if the ring was lethal.

As Gaye reached the clearing, she heard the engine of the helicopter start up. She came to a standstill watching the propellers churning. She could see Garry at the controls.

She cried, "Hey! Wait for me!"

But he didn't hear her. The machine took off, climbing steeply and then went out of sight behind the trees.

Ken and Themba had got the tent up. They had been also watching the take-off. Now they continued to unload the Land Rover. She joined them.

"Why didn't he wait for me?" she asked. "That was mean!" Ken grinned.

"You ask him when he comes back. Where's our lovely boy friend?"

"Having a swim."

There was a note in her voice that made him look sharply at her.

"Trouble?"

"The usual, but I settled it."

"You're quite a girl." His look of admiration pleased her. "Be careful of him . . . he's vicious."

"Themba and I can take care of him." He dragged out the four sleeping bags. "I'm putting yours between Garry's and mine. Themba sleeps next to me . . . then Fennel."

She nodded.

"It's only for one night, isn't it?"