Windfall

All the same Stafford took his pocket knife and de-seeded his shoes after breakfast. The seeds were small and tetrahedron in shape with a small spike at each vertex so that whichever way they fell one spike would be uppermost, rather like miniature versions of the medieval caltrops which were scattered to discourage cavalry charges. Nature got there first, he reflected, and said aloud, 'Now I know why Gunnarsson was hobbling so badly when he got back to Keekorok.' He inspected the sole of the shoe. The remaining small spikes had broken off under his body weight and left a smooth, polished surface as slick as a ballroom floor. He cleaned the seeds out and then looked at the sole of his shoe. It was full of pinholes.

After they had breakfast and done the camp chores such as flattening and burying the empty cans there was nothing much to do. 'Did Chip say when he'd be coming back?' asked Stafford.

Nair shrugged. 'I doubt if he'd know.'

'So we twiddle our thumbs,' said Stafford disgustedly.

Curtis returned to his position on top of the ridge, taking with him Stafford's binoculars, and Hardin elected to keep him company. Nair and Stafford took a walk; there being nothing else to do. 'We'll be at the north end of the island,' Nair told Hardin before they left.

They strolled along, taking their time because they were not going anywhere in particular. As they went Stafford told Nair of his assessment of the Kenyan options and Nair agreed with him somewhat gloomily. 'The trouble with us,' he said. 'Is that we're civilized enough to have intelligence and security departments, but not civilized enough to know how to use them properly. We haven't had the experience of you British. I don't think we're cynical enough.'

It was an odd way of defining civilization, but Stafford thought he could very well be right.

Once Nair stopped and pointed to the ground, ahead of them but to one side.'Look!'

Stafford saw nothing, but then an ear twitched and he saw a beady eye. 'A rabbit!' he said in astonishment. 'I didn't know you had those in Africa.'

'Not many,' said Nair. 'Too many predators. That's a Bunyoro rabbit.' He moved and the rabbit took fright and bounded away, changing direction with every hop. Nair slanted his eyes at Stafford. 'Too many predators in all of Africa.'

And most of them human, agreed Stafford, but to himself.

It was nearly eleven in the morning when Hardin caught up with them. 'Alan Hunt just landed from a boat,' he reported. 'The Sergeant has gone down to meet him.'

'He might have brought news,' said Stafford. 'Let's go see.'

Hunt, however, had no news. He had been to the service station in Naivasha to replenish the butane bottles for the balloon and to have a pipe welded on the burner and had then decided to see if Stafford knew what was happening. 'We're marking bloody time, that's all,' said Stafford. 'Waiting for the top brass to make up its collective mind – if any.'

'You were right,' said Hunt.

'What about?'

'The TV camera in the entrance hall of the Admin Block. I checked on it.'

Stafford grunted. 'I hope you didn't poke your eye right into it.'

'And your friend, Gunnarsson, stayed over last night. He and Brice seemed quite pally.'

Stafford thought of the directed conversation he had with Gunnarsson in the bedroom. He said, 'Brice is probably measuring him up; assessing the opposition, no doubt.'

Hardin laughed. 'Measuring him up is right. For a coffin, probably.'

Stafford disagreed. 'I doubt it. It's a bad operation that leaves too many corpses around. I don't think Brice is as stupid as that."

'He wasn't too worried about leaving a corpse on the Tanzanian border,' objected Hardin.

'That was different. There's still no direct connection between Brice and that episode. He's still pretty well covered. I think…"

What Stafford thought was lost because a piercing whistle came from the ridge and he looked up to see Curtis waving in a beckoning motion. 'Something's up," he said, and began to run.

He was out of breath when he cast himself down next to Curtis and thought that this was a job for a younger man. Nair and Hunt were with him, but Hardin was still trailing behind. Curtis pointed to a boat half way across the narrow strait between the island and the mainland, and passed the binoculars to Stafford. 'If the Colonel would care to take a look? It's coming from the Lake Naivasha Hotel.'

Stafford put the glasses to his eyes and focused. In the stern was a young black Kenyan, his hand on the tiller of the outboard motor. And Gunnarsson sat amidships, staring at the island and apparently right into Stafford's eyes.

Chapter 29

Stafford withdrew from the crest of the ridge as Hardin flopped down beside him. 'What is it?' Hardin asked. He was short of breath.