Windfall

Judy said, 'We don't see much of those people, anyway. They're not good mixers.'

'So Alan remarked before.' Stafford looked at the sky and said dreamily, 'Up there, a little over 22,000 miles high, is an American satellite for extended weather research, a laudable project and no doubt quite genuine. But it contains equip ment used by these people at Ol Njorowa. It occurred to me that a signal sent from that dish antenna to the satellite could be relayed and picked up in, say, Pretoria which is about 25 degrees south. Or possibly somewhere in the Northern Transvaal such as Messina or Louis Trichardt which are about 22 to 23 degrees south.' He smiled. 'I've been looking at maps.'

Hunt said, 'This is all sheer supposition. You talk of TV cameras on the water tower, but you don't know they're there. And all this waffle about signalling to Pretoria is just sheer guff in my opinion. If this is what you've brought me to hear you're wasting my time.'

'Alan,' said Stafford gently. 'Does a respectable establishment bug the guest bedrooms?'

'You're sure of that?' said Chip sharply.

'Dead sure. Microphone and radio transmitter disguised as a picture of an elephant.' He described what he had found.

Chip blew out his cheeks in a sigh of relief. 'Thank God!" he said. 'It's the first firm evidence we've had.'

'That's what I thought,' said Stafford. He recounted the events of the day in detail, then said, 'I manoeuvred Gunnarsson into a private conversation in the bedroom because I was pretty sure that Brice would be listening. All the time I talked to Gunnarsson I was really addressing Brice.' He grinned. 'I needled Gunnarsson into saying that he's going to stick around to investigate Ol Njorowa because he thinks it's a phoney set-up.'

'He always was a sharp operator,' said Hardin soberly. 'I'll give him that. He doesn't have cotton wadding between his ears.'

'Yes, but Brice will have heard him saying it.' Stafford laughed. 'It will be interesting to see what happens now.'

Hunt looked at his sister. 'What do you think?'

'Until Max told about the picture in his room I wasn't convinced,' she said. 'But he's really getting to me now.'

'Have you seen the TV camera in the entrance hall of the Admin Block?' asked Stafford helpfully.

Hunt looked startled. 'No, I haven't.'

'That's not surprising; it's hard to spot unless you know what you're looking for. As you face the counter it's behind and to your left in the top corner. Now, don't go staring at it, for God's sake! Just do an unobtrusive check.'

Hunt shook his head in bewilderment. 'You know, last year Brice showed me a couple of papers in a journal about the work done by the animal migration lab. From what I could see it was really good stuff.'

'No doubt it was. The best cover is always genuine.' Stafford turned to Chip. 'When I was talking to Gunnarsson I indicated I was leaving Kenya and going back to London. Brice might believe it or he might not. Can you do anything to support that story?'

Chip thought about it. 'We don't know yet how big an organization Brice has built up, or how far we've been penetrated. I'll have someone book air tickets in the names of you and Curtis. Let me have your passport numbers, and the records will show that you left tomorrow morning. In the meantime you'll have to go to ground.'

'Why not here?' said Nair. 'Here on Crescent Island. It's close to Ol Njorowa and it's quiet. We can bring a tent and sleeping bags and anything else you might need.'

'We'll need a boat,' said Stafford.

Curtis leaned forward and said in a low voice, 'The Colonel might like to know there's someone coming.'

'Where?'

'Up the slope from the water and moving quietly.'

Chip had caught it. He signalled to Nair and they both headed down the slope, angling in different directions. They disappeared and, for a while, nothing happened. Then they came back, strolling casually, and Chip was tearing open an envelope. 'It's all right; just someone bringing me a message.' He took a sheet of paper from the envelope and scanned it. 'The man who was asking for Gunnarsson at the New Stanley. He's been traced back to Ol Njorowa; his name is Patterson.'

Stafford wrinkled his brow. 'That name rings a faint bell.'

Hunt said, 'He's one of the animal migration team. I suppose that does it.'

'Wasn't he the man with Brice when I met him for the first time at the Lake Naivasha Hotel?'

'Yes,' said Judy. 'Alan, I think Max has proved his point.' She looked directly at Stafford. 'What do you want us to do?'

'Chip's the boss,' said Stafford.

'Not really,' said Chip, and nodded his head towards the grey-haired Kenyan who was knocking out his pipe on the rock he sat on. Stafford had glanced at him from time to time during the conference. His face had remained blandly blank but he had obviously listened to every word. Chip said, 'I'll have to have a private talk first.' He walked to one side and the elderly man put away his pipe and followed him.