“Good. I’ll be there.”
Zoe put down the phone again and resumed her pacing, struggling not only with the dilemma of Jan Kruger but also with her feelings about Joseph. She probed her heart, wondering whether, and when, her respect for him had become attraction. Finding no answers, she stood motionless in the sunlight, enjoying the prickle of grass between her toes and contemplating how to tell Dr. Kruger about the way Charity’s life ended. She stared at the surface of the water, an idea taking shape in her mind.
I need another airline ticket.
Joseph arrived at Zoe’s flat at dusk. She met him at the door in an apron and led him to the kitchen. Looking at him, dressed casually in a polo shirt and khakis, she was glad she had selected capris and a cardigan instead of a sundress.
“I hope you like Indian food,” she said. “I didn’t make it to the store before the election, but I had the fixings for curried chicken and rice.”
“That’s wonderful,” he replied.
“Do you want beer or wine?”
He grinned. “I’ll have whatever you’re having.”
She stirred the chicken a final time and turned off the burner, placing her apron on the counter. “We’re eating on the deck. I’ll bring everything out.”
When he left, she fixed two plates and set them on a tray, together with a basket of flatbread and two glasses of chardonnay. She took the tray onto the terrace and found him looking out over the gardens. She distributed the food and wine and lit a few candles. They took seats across from one another and Zoe said, “Bon appétit!”
“This is really good,” he said, eating with gusto.
She smiled. “Did you find anything at the golf club?”
He shook his head. “The magistrate isn’t a member. I went to the University of Zambia, too, thinking maybe he and Darious were classmates. But Darious didn’t study there.”
She took a bite of chicken, enjoying the spice of the curry. “What about their childhood? Perhaps they were friends in primary school.”
“Or secondary school. They could have been neighbors; their families may know each other; Darious might have dated Kaunda’s sister, if he has a sister. Lots of possibilities.”
She took a sip of wine. “I’ve been trying to reach Godfrey to get Cynthia’s phone number. I haven’t heard from him.”
Joseph shrugged. “That doesn’t surprise me.”
“You think he’s afraid?”
“Wouldn’t you be if your family was dead and your village thought you were cursed?” He put down his fork. “There’s also a chance the guy who’s been following us had a talk with him. He wasn’t on our flight back.”
She grimaced. After the riverboat had docked, the man in sunglasses had vanished. She had almost managed to forget about him. “I called Nkana Mine, looking for Cynthia’s husband. No one was there on Election Day.”
“I doubt she’ll help us,” he said. “I’m sure Godfrey talked to her.”
Zoe pursed her lips, then said, “I’m going to Johannesburg tomorrow.”
He frowned. “Why?”
“I found Jan, the man in Bella’s journal,” she said, relishing his look of disbelief. “He’s an epidemiologist at the University of Cape Town, but he’s doing a study at Wits in Jo’burg.”
Joseph sat back in his chair. “How did you—”
“Some luck and a little detective work.”
After she told him the story, he shook his head. “Impressive deduction, I admit. But how do you know Jan isn’t someone she met in Lusaka?”
She smiled. “I had the same thought. This afternoon I skimmed the journal again. I realized how much medical detail she included in her descriptions. You could argue that her language was a holdover from her nursing school days. But I don’t think so. I think she was writing words that he would understand, even if she never believed he would read them.”
He examined her carefully. “That’s a fascinating insight.”
She turned away, not knowing what to say.
After a while, he asked, “Why did you invite me to dinner?”
She felt herself begin to blush. “As you recall, you were about to invite me.”
“But your home is different from a restaurant.”
She looked at his eyes in the candlelight. “I enjoy your company.”
A smile played across his face. “Then our reasons are the same.”
chapter 14
Just after dawn the next morning, Joseph drove Zoe to the airport. In the aftermath of Election Day, the streets of Lusaka were eerily calm. The vendors that normally crowded the roadways were absent, and foot traffic was astonishingly light. The winner of the election had yet to be announced, and the media had begun to recycle bland pollingstation footage to fill the void.
“I’m worried about PF if Banda wins,” Zoe said. “They’ll never accept that it’s fair.”
Joseph frowned. “If MMD stays in power, PF might resort to violence. But I doubt it would spread beyond the compounds. Zambians are peaceful people.”