FIFTY-NINE
JOSHUA SLOWLY PUT DOWN the cell phone, his heart racing, the witch doctor’s voice still echoing in his head. He jumped up. He only had an hour! He needed to hurry.
Then he told himself to be calm and sank back into his chair. I have the power, he thought. Let me use it. Let me think. He took a deep breath. Could this be a police trap? He shook his head. He’d recognized the witch doctor’s voice immediately. Always cold, sibilant, reminding him of a snake.
He left a note for his wife saying that he’d been called to a breaking case, and she should expect him when she saw him. Then he went into the garage, opened the door of his BMW, and immediately saw the tracking device he’d left on the passenger seat. So why were the police watching him? he wondered, also remembering the man who had followed him outside the Internet café. It’s Mabaku. He’s trying to find some lever to blackball me. Or perhaps my stupid uncle told them I was interested in witchcraft, and now they’re trying to use me to get to the witch doctor. He ground his teeth.
His first thought was to leave the tracking device in the garage, but he took time to think it through. If he were Mabaku, he would have someone watching the house. That man would report his comings and goings and, if he left the device behind, they’d assume he’d found it and tail him by car. It would be hard to lose them on the empty late-night streets of Gaborone. No, he’d need to be cleverer than that.
He evaluated a couple of plans, then, after a few minutes, went back into the house, took his service pistol from the gun safe, and checked and loaded it. He put on a shoulder holster and a jacket. Then he returned to the car and confidently drove out into the night.
KUBU HAD JUST FALLEN into a contented sleep when the phone jarred him awake. It took him a few seconds to orient himself. When he realized what had woken him, he grabbed the phone.
“Bengu.”
“Assistant Superintendent, this is Edison. Edison Banda. Our man outside Suspect A’s house phoned and said he’d just driven out. I’ve alerted the director, the rapid-response team, and Detective Khama.”
“And you’ve got the suspect’s car on your screen?”
“Yes. He’s heading toward the A1.”
“And what about Suspect B?”
“Nothing happening there.”
“Good. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
Kubu checked his watch. It was 10:45 p.m. A very unlikely time for Joshua to leave his house and start driving around Gaborone. This may be it, he thought.
JOSHUA DROVE TO THE A1, then turned south. When he came to the Game City shopping center, he pulled into the parking lot and turned off the engine. Right next to CID headquarters. Just the place to make Mabaku look stupid!
WHEN KUBU ARRIVED AT the assembly point, six armed policemen were milling around under the floodlights. Kubu saw Edison and walked over.
“Welcome back, Edison. Did you have a good vacation?”
“Yes. It was wonderful.”
“Well, you returned to a hornet’s nest. You’ve been briefed on what’s happening?”
“A little bit. Nobody seems to know what’s really going on or who the suspects are.”
“I’ll fill you in on the details after this is over. We’re trying to catch a witch doctor who, we’re sure, has been responsible for a number of muti murders. Obviously we didn’t want to tell our men that. They think it’s a diamond heist.”
Kubu could see the hesitation in Edison’s eyes. “It’s okay, Edison. Nothing’s going to happen to you. He’s just a criminal.”
Kubu didn’t think that Edison was convinced.
Just then a man ran over. “Suspect B has just started moving. It looks as though he’s heading west towards the A1.”
“Thanks,” Kubu said. “Edison, get the men together. I want to brief them.”
As Edison was gathering the team, Mabaku and Samantha arrived. Kubu quickly filled them in.
“Director, both our vehicles have backup communication systems. Each will acknowledge every one of your communications. If you don’t hear an acknowledgment, check immediately with that vehicle. If you can’t make contact, switch to the backup system. Each vehicle also has a cell phone. Edison has those numbers.”
Kubu turned to Samantha. “If the team moves in, you are not to go with them. You must stay in the vehicle until cleared to move. Understood?”
Samantha stiffened and didn’t reply.
“Samantha. It’s not because you’re a woman. It’s because it’s dangerous, and you don’t have the appropriate training or experience. I won’t be going with my team, either.”
Samantha nodded reluctantly.
“The men are ready, Kubu,” Edison said as he ran up.
Kubu turned to the men. “Listen carefully. The men we are following are very dangerous. We think one of them has killed several times. However, you must do everything possible to capture them alive. No shooting unless absolutely necessary. They’re very careful and may lay traps for anyone following. Fortunately, both their vehicles have tracking devices on them. Director Mabaku will be in charge of letting us all know what they are doing. He will also give us the order to go in, if that’s appropriate. It’s essential that we work together and don’t jump the gun. Wait for orders. Don’t do anything unless ordered to do so. Each vehicle must acknowledge every communication from the director in order. Who is in charge of Vehicle One?”
A stocky man raised his hand.
“When the director has finished a communication, you must acknowledge by saying ‘Vehicle One, roger.’ Vehicle Two must acknowledge only after Vehicle One has acknowledged. If either vehicle fails to acknowledge, switch radios, and the director will ask you all to acknowledge again. We can’t afford to make a mistake. This may be the only opportunity we have to catch these two. Understood?”
The men nodded.
“As a final backup, you all have cell phones. On speed dial the number one will ring in the control room. Use it only as a last resort.”
Kubu turned to Mabaku. “Would you like to say anything, director?”
“We’ve been tracking Suspect A for the last fifteen minutes. He has stopped in the parking lot of Game City. Suspect B has just started moving toward the A1. Good luck, men.”
Kubu frowned. Why had Joshua stopped at Game City? he wondered. Surely not for a late-night snack.
“Samantha,” he said. “You go in Vehicle Two. I’ll be in Vehicle One.”
He turned back to the men. “Okay. Let’s go.”
JOSHUA ASSESSED HIS OPTIONS. It was already after eleven on a weekday night, and Game City was nearly empty. There were only a few people who’d been to the movies, chatting and drinking coffee at the Wimpy. Then he spotted a taxi parked outside the fast-food restaurant. The driver had just come out of the Wimpy and was heading back to his car. Immediately Joshua saw his opportunity. He got out of the BMW and sauntered over to the taxi, timing his arrival so that the man was already seated when he reached him.
“Dumela, rra,” he said. “I’m afraid I’m a bit lost. Can you help me? I’m looking for the Broadhurst shopping mall. I’m from Lobatse.”
The driver gave him detailed directions, illustrated with pointing and hand movements.
Joshua was effusively grateful, leaning into the cab to pat the man on the shoulder and shake his hand.
“You are a Good Samaritan, rra. Where are you going from here?”
“I won’t get more fares after eleven on a Thursday. I’m off home to Mogoditshane.”
Joshua wished him a good sleep and walked back to his car smiling. The tracking device was now lying on the floor behind the taxi driver’s seat.
He slid into his car and looked around. He waited a few minutes to see if anyone followed the taxi. Then he drove out a back exit and doubled back. Satisfied that no one was following, he drove back to the A1 and turned south toward Lobatse. After a few miles, he turned left onto a narrow road that had a sign to the Opera House. He drove cautiously down the road, then turned left onto a disused track. After a few more minutes, a cabin near the dam came into sight. He stopped a hundred yards away, switched off the engine and lights, and settled down to wait. If it was like the last time, it would be at least half an hour.
THE RADIO CRACKLED AS Mabaku came on the air. Kubu could hear concern in his voice. “Suspect A is backtracking, now heading north on the A1. Suspect B is headed south on the A1 and is nearing the Molepolole turnoff. They will pass each other in a minute or two.”
The driver of Kubu’s vehicle responded: “Vehicle One, roger.” The second vehicle followed suit.
That’s strange, Kubu thought. Why is Joshua going north? Are they going to have a conversation on the highway?
A few minutes later, Mabaku radioed again. “Suspect A has passed Suspect B and is still headed north. Suspect B has stopped just south of Millenium Park. All units move to Old Lobatse Road and stop short of the circle just north of Game City.”
“He’s checking that no one is following,” Kubu said, after the acknowledgments. “I bet he’ll stay there for ten minutes or so.”
Shortly after the two vehicles had pulled onto the verge of Old Lobatse Road, Mabaku came on the air again. “Suspect A still headed north on the A1. Suspect B still stopped on the A1.”
Kubu leaned over and spoke to the driver. “Give me the radio, please. There’s something wrong here.”
He took the handset and pressed the transmit button. “Vehicle One to Home.”
Mabaku answered immediately. “Go ahead, Vehicle One.”
“Something’s up, Director. Suspects A and B should be converging, not diverging. Please dispatch a car to check that Suspect A is driving a black, 3-series BMW.”
“Will do.”
A couple of minutes later: “Suspect B now going south on the A1 and has turned left on the side road towards the Opera House. Suspect A still heading north.”
A few minutes later, Mabaku came on the air again. “You were right, Vehicle One. Location device is in a taxi. The driver says a man in a black BMW came over and asked directions to Broadhurst Mall. He must have found the device on his car and dropped it in the taxi. He’s on to us, which is bad, and we don’t know where he is now, which is worse.”
Kubu took the handset again. “We’ll have to follow Suspect B then. We’ll have to be very careful. He’ll expect to be followed.” I’d better be right that he’s the witch doctor, Kubu thought. Otherwise Joshua’s on his way to meet someone else.
“Suspect B has stopped about half a mile from the A1. All units move south down the A1. Stop five hundred yards short of the turnoff to the Opera House. Two men from Vehicle Two make a wide swing south of the Opera House road and see if you can locate Suspect B if he’s left his car. But don’t let him see you.”
As the two men climbed out of the other vehicle with their night-vision goggles and automatic rifles, Kubu’s heart rate picked up. “We’re going to get you!” he blurted out.
After what seemed an interminable wait, the radios came to life. “This is Scout One. Suspect B has pulled his car behind some bushes and is looking back along the road.”
“He’s being very careful,” the driver of Kubu’s vehicle whispered.
Kubu got out of the car and walked around. Everyone else did the same. “We could be here for an hour,” Kubu said to Samantha. “May as well keep the circulation going.”
Twenty minutes passed before Mabaku called again. “Suspect B now moving very slowly. Move ahead slowly without lights.”
Everyone jumped into their vehicles.
“Suspect B has stopped again. Be prepared to stop and deploy.”
The convoy moved slowly forward until they were five hundred yards from Suspect B.
“Stop and deploy. Acknowledge on portable radios.” The leaders of each vehicle and both scouts acknowledged.
Good, Kubu thought. All is going well.
JOSHUA WAS BEGINNING TO fidget. He’d been waiting for more than half an hour. Was the witch doctor just being cautious? he wondered. Or had something happened to him?
I’ll give him another fifteen minutes, then I’ll leave.
“I’LL GO AHEAD,” THE leader of Kubu’s group said to the remaining men. “Follow me in two minutes.” He pulled on night-vision goggles and walked forward, automatic rifle at the ready.
Two minutes later the rest of the team fanned out and moved warily forward. Kubu wished he could follow them. Samantha climbed into the vehicle and sat down next to Kubu.
The earpieces crackled as one of the scouts reported. “This is Scout One. I can see Suspect B’s car. He’s standing about thirty yards to the side, behind a tree. There is another car about five hundred yards farther on. It looks as though there is one occupant.”
“That has to be Joshua in the car,” Kubu said to Samantha. “The witch doctor is making sure nobody’s following.”
“Everyone stop,” Mabaku ordered. The team leader acknowledged and raised his hand to signal the others.
A few minutes later the scout reported again. “This is Scout Two. Suspect B is circling behind Suspect A’s vehicle. Am following at a distance.”
“Move forward another hundred yards,” Mabaku ordered. The teams fanned out even farther and crept forward.
“Suspect B is now circling back.”
“Get down,” came Mabaku’s order. The men dropped quietly to the ground, looking around anxiously.
“If Suspect B sees any of you, capture him alive and take Suspect A as well.” As he heard Mabaku’s words, Kubu said to Samantha, “I hope that doesn’t happen. We won’t have anything to charge either man with.”
A few minutes later: “Suspect B has entered a small building about one hundred yards from Suspect A’s vehicle.”
“Close in another hundred yards,” Mabaku ordered.
The men crept closer. Then nothing happened for interminable minutes.
He’s getting ready for Joshua, thought Kubu.
“A light has come on outside the building. Suspect A has left his car and is proceeding toward the building.”
“Move forward until building is in sight, then stop.”
“Suspect A now in building.”
“Yes!” Kubu exclaimed. “We’ve got them.”
WHEN THE LIGHT IN the house flashed, Joshua knew it was time. He took a deep breath. I’m afraid of him, he admitted. I’m afraid of what he’ll make me do.
He pulled himself together, closed the car door quietly, and headed to the house. But before he reached the front door, he stopped. Something bothered him. A sound not really heard, or a movement not really seen? He stood still and carefully scanned the area, then he silently turned around and peered into the brush behind him. The half-moon was now low in the sky, and what illumination it offered was disguised by tree shadows. He waited for more than a minute. The light in the house signaled again. He felt his confidence build again, as it had when he’d held the albino’s still-warm heart in his hands. He entered the house, gently closing the door behind him, letting the Yale lock click into place.
The witch doctor was waiting for him, dressed as always in baboon mask and leopard skin. Joshua felt awe, but he also felt power pumping in his veins. It was I who killed the albino, he thought. Not you.
The room had two wooden chairs set apart, and the witch doctor waved Joshua to one and took the other.
“Why did you call me?” the witch doctor asked. “What’s so urgent?”
“They don’t believe Rampa is the witch doctor. I had the commissioner convinced, but the CID people don’t believe it.” Somehow the issue didn’t seem as critical here in the witch doctor’s den. “It was a mistake hurting him. The welts on his body convinced them that he couldn’t be the real witch doctor.”
The baboon head turned to face him, but Joshua couldn’t see eyes behind the holes in the mask. “It doesn’t work like that, Joshua. Rampa betrayed me. He said things no one should speak. For that he was punished. He will die as he deserves.”
“Nevertheless, they now believe there was someone else behind it all.”
“It was your job to convince them that no one else is involved!”
“They’re looking for someone else. They’re looking for you. They’ve been watching me, too.”
The witch doctor leaned forward, suddenly tense. “Watching you? Why would they suspect you?”
“I think my rival for the deputy commissioner job is trying to trip me up. But I’ve been careful.”
“What if they followed you here?” The witch doctor’s voice rose in anger.
“I gave them the slip. They’re following their tracking device to Mogoditshane. And no other cars came down this road.”
The witch doctor nodded. “That’s true.” He paused. “What did you expect me to do about all this?” he asked calmly.
“I thought it was important for you to know what was happening. Can’t you put them off the track somehow?”
The witch doctor thought for a few moments. “There is no track. No one can see me unless I want them to. And I will be away for a while. There are people in Zimbabwe I can work with to get what we need. Much more cheaply, too. I’ll set up new contact procedures with my clients. Maybe you will come there to see me. Maybe I will come back here.” He leaned toward Joshua. “Anyway, you have what you need for now, don’t you?”
Joshua felt a bit dizzy. The background seemed to fade, leaving nothing but the witch doctor. He could now see deep black eyes, staring out at him from the baboon face. The eyes were from very far away. Maybe from another world. But the thought didn’t upset him. He felt relaxed.
“Yes,” he said. “I have what I need.”
“You have the power.”
“Yes,” Joshua repeated. “I have the power.”
“So there is no problem.”
“No, there is no problem.” His voice was without intonation.
“Good. Then we have finished.”
Joshua nodded. “Yes, we have finished.” He knew it was true and felt relief.
“You can go now. I’ll contact you when it’s time.”
“Yes, I can go now. I have what I need.” Joshua rose to his feet, feeling groggy. At that moment, there was a sound of a snapping twig. “What was that?” The effects of the spell vanished, and he was instantly alert again.
The witch doctor had heard it, too. “Someone’s out there! You said you weren’t followed!”
“Quiet.” Joshua tried to look through the window into the night, but there was only blackness. Then he heard a scuffing sound, the sound of shoes moving closer, faint, but he was sure.
“There are people out there. We have to get out of here.”
A voice from outside shouted, “Police! Open the door at once!”
“Keep them here!” the witch doctor cried and headed to the back of the house.
Suddenly everything was clear to Joshua. It was the witch doctor who had let himself be followed. No longer invisible. No longer powerful. He couldn’t allow him to leave the house. If he was caught, Joshua was finished. He pulled the pistol from under his jacket. But at that moment the witch doctor turned and gave an unearthly screech. Joshua fired, but his hand shook, and the bullet went wide.
There was a crash behind him as the door burst open. Before he could turn, he was knocked to the floor, and the pistol wrestled away. He felt a heavy foot on his neck, and his arms were pulled roughly behind his back and his wrists handcuffed.
He twisted his head to look for the witch doctor, but he was gone.
FOR THE MAN GUARDING the back of the house, the night became a nightmare. He was expecting an escaping robber, perhaps coming out, guns blazing. He almost hoped for that. Instead he saw a creature not human—half man, half baboon. He knew at once what it was, and his heart froze. It screeched like something from the pits of hell and, before he could recover, it was on him. He pulled the trigger, but it was too late; bullets smashed harmlessly into the back of the building. The force of the witch doctor’s attack, added to the recoil, knocked him over backward. The last thing he felt was the scalpel going through his throat from ear to ear.
KUBU HEARD THE GUNSHOT, a cacophony on the radio, and then a burst of automatic rifle fire. Forgetting his own orders to Samantha, he shouted, “Something’s wrong! He’s getting away. Monitor the radio and keep Mabaku informed.” Ignoring Samantha’s protests, he clambered out of the vehicle and lumbered up the road toward the house. He wanted to spot the witch doctor’s car. That’s where he’ll go, he thought. If I’m wrong, and they’ve got him, no harm done. If I’m right, I’ve got to stop him.
LUCKILY THE MOON GLINTED off the metal of the car or Kubu might have missed it. As it was, he caught the reflection and moved off the road toward it, trying to catch his breath. He could hear the men at the house shouting and crashing around in the bushes. His decision to get involved didn’t seem like a good idea anymore—he wasn’t even armed. But surely the witch doctor wouldn’t get through the cordon?
Kubu suddenly realized he could be mistaken for one of the suspects. He took some comfort in the fact that the scouts had night goggles, and they would recognize him by his bulk. But to be on the safe side, he moved to the side of the car away from the house.
The witch doctor came at him out of the bushes screeching as he rushed forward, something in his hand glinting.
For Kubu, time seemed to stop. Before him was a creature of nightmares, hands out like claws of a predatory beast, awful baboon face, body splattered with the blood of its kill. For a fraction of a second Kubu felt the hopelessness of opposing this evil. Then his right arm flew out, not to ward off the attacker, but to destroy it. His mind boiled with fury; his arm powered by the anger of murdered children. And he screamed back.
The edge of his right hand caught the witch doctor below the left ear, by good luck just below the wooden mask. He felt something give, and his hand exploded in agony. The scalpel cut into his arm, but then was released, and the witch doctor collapsed to the ground.
Suddenly Samantha was there. “Kubu, are you okay?”
For a moment he couldn’t speak, his eyes watering from the waves of pain in his hand. “Yes, I’m fine. Handcuff the witch doctor. I think I knocked him out. Be careful! He has a knife, and he may be faking.” He tried to move the fingers of his hand, but the pain was excruciating, and he stopped.
Samantha bent over the witch doctor, and Kubu heard the handcuffs close. After what seemed a long time, Samantha spoke. “He’s dead, Kubu. I think you broke his neck.”
She turned her attention back to him, seeing the blood staining his jacket. “Oh God. You’re hurt. We must get you to a hospital. Where are the others?” She jumped up. “Over here!” she yelled. The assault team called back and moved up.
“Can you take off the mask?” Kubu asked, nursing his broken hand.
Samantha pulled loose the Velcro straps of the mask and lifted it off. Now they could see the strange angle of the head on the neck.
“Yes, it is him,” said Samantha.
Kubu looked down at the face of Dr. Jake Pilane and nodded.
SIXTY
SAMANTHA RUSHED KUBU TO Princess Marina Hospital, but once she was convinced that he wasn’t seriously injured, she left for home, exhausted. Edison Banda waited and drove Kubu home after the hospital had finished with him. They didn’t talk much. Edison was also tired after the long night, and Kubu was in a haze of shock and painkillers, his mind on the events leading up to the witch doctor’s death.
It was after three when Edison dropped Kubu off and headed home to his bed. Kubu knew Joy would be waiting for him; he’d phoned her from the hospital to let her know that he’d been hurt, but was okay. Nevertheless, when he came in, he could see the worry on her face. I look a mess, he thought, as he tossed his bloodied and ruined sweater over a chair. His forearm was half covered by the dressing over the stitches, and his hand tightly bound with bandages.
“Oh, Kubu!” Joy cried, running to him.
“I’m fine, my darling.” He hugged her with his left arm, pulling her close.
“What did he do to you?”
He could tell she was close to tears. “The arm is just a flesh wound. And you know I have plenty of that! They put in a few stitches and bandaged it up. As for my hand, I broke one of the bones hitting the witch doctor. But it’s not serious, either. A ‘greenstick’ fracture, the doctor called it. It will bind up by itself. They gave me antibiotics and painkillers. I’ll be fine.”
He decided not to mention the antiretroviral they’d given him, concerned about the blood from the dead policeman on the scalpel. They wouldn’t know about the man’s HIV status until later in the morning.
Kubu steered her to the couch, and they sat close together, Joy on the left so that he could have his good arm over her shoulder. For a few minutes, it was enough for them to sit together and be still. Then Joy asked, “What happened to him? The witch doctor?”
Kubu hesitated. “I killed him. I didn’t mean to. He was rushing at me with a scalpel in his hand. I was scared and just lashed out and hit him as hard as I could.” His hand twinged as if recalling the blow.
“I’m glad,” Joy said. “I’m glad he’s dead. He was an awful, evil man.”
Kubu shook his head. “We needed him alive. We need to know who his clients were, who his victims were. We needed to show people that he was just a psychopath, to be reviled not feared. He’s escaped what should have been in store for him.”
But there’s more to it than that, Kubu thought. I killed a man. A bad man, a man who deserved to die, but another human being nonetheless. He dragged me to his level.
Joy shuddered. “I don’t care. He might’ve got away. I’m glad you killed him.”
Kubu pulled her closer, wishing they could go to bed, make love, put it all out of their lives, but he knew the moment wasn’t right. And that this was something he would carry alone.
“Do you want some tea?” Joy asked.
Kubu would have preferred a stiff brandy, but with all the drugs, that might not be a good idea. “Tea sounds good.”
Joy went to the kitchen, and Kubu stretched out, allowing the tension to seep out of his muscles, to be replaced by physical tiredness. They would have tea, he would reassure Joy, and they would go to bed. There was much to do in the morning. And the painkillers would wear off at some point.
He heard a scrabbling in the ceiling and glanced up. The mongoose, he thought.
Then Joy came back with the tea, snuggling close to him again, and he knew that everything would turn out all right.