“Why don’t you give Paul a call?” Naomi suggested. “See what he has to say.”
She passed along the Senator’s phone number, and Zoe dialed without delay. Waiting for the connection, she thought of Alice and the rabbit hole.
The Senator picked up on the third ring. “Paul Hartman.”
“Senator Hartman,” she began. “It’s Zoe Fleming.”
In the middle of May, Mariam called a meeting to discuss the status of Kuyeya’s case.
“As you know,” she said, “we’re still waiting on a judgment from Flexon Mubita. The delay is very uncharacteristic of him. He’s always been a decisive judge. He ruled on the DNA issue in a matter of days. He moved the trial date forward over Benson Luchembe’s objections.” She paused. “Unfortunately, it appears that our concerns about him may be true. Three days ago, Judge Ngwenya announced his retirement from the High Court. This morning, my husband obtained the short list of replacement candidates. Guess whose name is at the top?”
Zoe felt acid churning in her stomach.
“We’ve looked at this from every possible angle,” Sarge said. “We can’t do anything to take the case out of his hands. Our only option is to leak the story to the media. It may not change the outcome, but at least people will know the truth.”
“What if Mubita doesn’t get the appointment?” Niza interjected. “We can’t afford to make a permanent enemy of the Principal Resident Magistrate.”
Zoe channeled her anger into words. “Why don’t we dish the dirt on the Nyambos and let the press run with it? If they pursue a corruption angle, we won’t get the blame.”
Mariam thought about this. “I like it. Sarge?”
He nodded. “I have a friend at the Post. I’ll give him a call this afternoon.”
“Just one thing,” Zoe said. “It’s probably best if you don’t mention my name.”
Sarge gave her a puzzled look. “Why?”
“It might be …” Zoe searched for the right word. “… distracting.”
Niza frowned. “What are you talking about?”
Zoe traded a glance with Mariam. “Have you ever heard of Jack Fleming?”
Two days later, Joseph drove Zoe to the airport. The air was pristine, a cradle for the sun, and the trees were resplendent with the colors of fall. Zoe checked her side mirror but saw no sign of Dunstan Sisilu. He had appeared only once since the trial—shortly after she and Joseph had removed the GPS units from their vehicles and crushed them with a sledgehammer. He had shadowed them for two days and then disappeared again. Joseph guessed he was gone for good.
They made a brief stop at St. Francis. Joseph stayed in the Land Rover, and Zoe followed Sister Anica to the courtyard where Sister Irina was reading a story to the children.
“How is she doing?” Zoe asked, catching sight of Kuyeya.
“She’s in pain,” the nun replied. “She’s always talking about bee stings.”
Zoe shook her head. “I’m sorry it took me so long to schedule an MRI.”
The nun gripped her hand. “It’s a miracle it’s happening at all.”
As she had promised, Zoe had solicited a second opinion from a number of private clinics. She had quickly learned, however, that the barriers to medical care for poor children with special needs were not limited to the public system. Two of the clinics had informed her that they only treated expatriates—a euphemism for “whites”—and a third had asked for a referral from UTH. Disgusted, Zoe had called Dr. Chulu and demanded an MRI. The doctor had hesitated until she told him of Kuyeya’s disorientation and bed-wetting. He had scheduled the exam for May 17, the same day as the Senate hearing.
Zoe walked toward the children and greeted Sister Irina. “You don’t need to stop reading,” she said. “I just brought something for Kuyeya.”
The girl made the balloon sound when Zoe sat down. “Hi, Zoe. Look.” She held her mother’s ring up to the sun. “Green like the Zambezi.”
Zoe smiled. “Did your mommy tell you that?”
The girl shook her head. “No, Irina.”
“Did your mommy tell you about Victoria Falls?”
Kuyeya bobbed her head. “Falls make the sound like thunder.”
Zoe laughed. “That’s right. Listen, I’m going on a trip, but I thought you might like a new friend.” She handed the girl a stuffed cheetah she had bought in Cape Town.
Kuyeya clutched the animal. “He has spots like the leopard.”
“He’s a cheetah. He runs very fast.”
Kuyeya began to rock. “I don’t like to run.”
Zoe glanced at Sister Irina. “Does it hurt to run, Kuyeya?”
The girl nodded. “Sting goes the bee. Mommy say don’t cry.”
Zoe kissed Kuyeya’s forehead. “We’re going to figure out what’s going on, I promise.” She walked with Sister Anica back to the Land Rover. “I wish I could be here for the exam.”
“She’ll be all right,” the nun replied.
“Send me a text as soon as the results come in.”