When Gaye and Garry returned to their suite, they found all the windows and the doors leading to the terrace closed and the air conditioner in operation.
Garry went immediately to the terrace doors and tried to open them, but they were securely locked and the key had been removed. When he tried to open one of the windows, he found it immovable.
“Battened down for the night,” he said, scratching his head. Now, how the hell is Fennel going to get in?”
“I thought you were being over optimistic. Is it likely they would leave all this open at night?” Gaye asked, sitting on the arm of a lounging chair. “What are you going to do?”
“Alert Fennel. It’s his job to get in. Maybe he can cope with this lock.” Garry looked at his watch. The time was 22.00 hrs. He sat down and looked across at Gaye. “We have an hour to wait. What did you think of Kahlenberg?”
Gaye grimaced.
“I didn’t like him. I think he was bored with me and a man wh0 finds me boring can’t expect to be my favourite person.” She laughed. “What did you think of him?”
“He’s dangerous,” Garry said soberly. “I’ll go further than that. I get the feeling, watching him, he isn’t quite sane. I still have the idea we have walked into a trap. But as we’re here, we’d be nuts not to have a go at the ring. I wonder if he was lying when he said the grounds weren’t patrolled at night. I’ll have to warn Fennel to be careful as he comes.”
“You don’t think he’s sane… what do you mean?”
“There’s something about his eyes… I’m not saying he is mad, but off balance.”
“I’m sure you’re imagining all this, Garry. I can’t believe he could have let us see the museum if he really suspected us. I think he is soured by being a cripple, and if he was distant, then it was probably due to that… for all you know, he may be in pain.”
“You could be right,” Garry shrugged. “But the whole set-up seems to me too easy.”
“Are you going to check on the elevator?”
“Of course. If it isn’t working, I don’t see how we can get at the door of the museum. I’ll wait half an hour, then I’ll go out and see.” He got up, crossed to the door and opened it. He looked down the deserted corridor. It was lighted, and in the far distance he could see the end of it terminating in double doors. “No one about.” He returned to the lounge, closing the door. “Could be tricky. If Tak or one of the servants come out of any of those rooms while I’m out there, I’m fixed. A fly couldn’t hide out there.”
“You can always say you’re walking in your sleep.”
Garry frowned at her.
“I wish you would take this more seriously. You don’t seem to realize if we’re caught we could be in a very nasty situation.”
“Let’s worry about that if and when it happens.”
Garry suddenly grinned.
“I guess you’re right. Come here and be kissed.”
She shook her head.
“Not now… we’re working.”
He hesitated, then lighting a cigarette, he dropped into a chair.
“If we get away with this, what are you going to do with the money, Gaye?” he asked.
“Save it. I save all my money and invest it at six per cent in a Swiss bank. Soon, I’ll have a nice income and then Shalik can look
for another slave.”
“You don’t like him?”
“Who would? He’s useful, but that’s all. And you, what are you going to do with your share?”
“Take a course in electronics,” Garry said promptly. “I’ve always wanted to have an education, and up to now, I’ve never had the chance. With Shalik’s money, I’ll study, and then get myself a decent paying job. There are lots of opportunities in the electronics field.”
“You surprise me… you don’t strike me as the studious type. Do you plan to get married?”
“Yes, but not until I’ve qualified. Then I will.”
“Got the girl lined up yet?”
He smiled at her.
“Yes, I think so.”
“Who is she?”
“No one you know… just a girl. We get along okay.”
“I rather thought you were going to say me.”
He laughed.
“You would have said no anyway.”
“Why are you so sure?”
“You would, wouldn’t you?”
Gaye smiled at him.
“Yes. I wouldn’t want to marry an electronics engineer. When I marry it will be a man who thinks big, lives big and is rich.”
“I know that. That’s why I’m picking Toni.”
“Is that her name?”
Garry nodded.
“I wish you luck, Garry, and I hope you will be very happy with her.”
“Thanks. I hope you will be happy too, but don’t pin too much on money.”
Gaye looked thoughtful.
“Life can be pretty rough without it.”
“Yes.” He stubbed out his cigarette and stared up at the ceiling. “One’s got to have enough, of course, but all this…” he waved his hand around the luxuriously furnished room. “This isn’t necessary.”
“It is to me.”
“That’s where we differ.” He glanced at his watch. “I guess I’ll take a look at the elevator.”
Gaye got to her feet.
“I’ll come with you. If we run into anyone, we can say we felt like a walk in the garden and as we couldn’t get out through the terrace way we were going to try the front door.”
“A bit thin… but it’ll have to do. Let’s go.”
They moved silently out into the long corridor, paused to listen, heard nothing and then they walked fast down the corridor, passing the front door and on towards the hidden lift. Garry went to the window ledge and felt under it. His fingers found a button which he pressed. The wall slid back. They looked at each other, then motioning her to stay where she was, he approached the lift doors which swished silently open. He entered the cage, then first pressing the red button which Tak had told him turned off the alarm, he then pressed the green button. The doors closed and then the lift descended. When it reached ground level, Garry pressed the green button again and the lift ascended. He stepped into the corridor and reclosed the sliding wall.
Taking Gaye’s hand in his, he ran silently down the corridor and back to their suite.
“Well, it works,” he said, closing the door. Now everything depends on whether Fennel can get in and then, of course, if he can open the door to the museum.”
After waiting a quarter of an hour, Garry picked up the two- way radio.
Fennel answered immediately.
Garry explained the situation and told Fennel the elevator was working. Fennel said there were still lights showing in the windows of the two extreme wings of the house.
“The light on the right is mine,” Garry said. “The other light is from Kahlenberg’s quarters.”
“The left wing light has gone out,” Fennel reported. “The only light now showing is where you are.”
“Kahlenberg told me the grounds aren’t patrolled, Lew,” Garry said, “but I don’t trust him. Take your time and use every scrap of cover as you come. There could be some of the Zulu guards around.”
“I’ll watch it. I’ll start now. It’ll take me a good half-hour to get to you. Ken will remain here until we signal him.”
“Roger… out,” and Garry switched off. Turning to Gaye, he went on, “He’s on his way now. All the other lights have gone out.” He crossed to the bedside lamps and turned them on, then he turned off the ceiling lights. Going to the window, he peered into the darkness. The big moon was partially hidden by clouds, but after a few moments, his eyes became used to the darkness and he could make out the terrace furniture and beyond the beds of flowers.
“We could be flying back to Mainville in a couple of hours,” Gaye said. “I’m going to change.”
She went into the bedroom, took off the sari and put on her shirt and shorts. When she returned to the lounge, she found Garry had also changed. They sat on the bed, looking through the window, waiting for Fennel.
The minutes dragged by. Both of them were keyed up as they sat, waiting. After what seemed an age, Garry put his hand on Gaye’s arm.
“He’s here.” He got to his feet and went to the window.
Fennel came out of the darkness and paused at the window and nodded. He lowered his tool kit to the ground and came to the terrace doors. With the aid of a pencil flash light, he examined the lock. Looking at Garry, he jerked up his thumb, then reached for his tool kit.
In a few minutes, the terrace doors swung open. Picking up his tool kit, Fennel moved into the lounge. He ignored Gaye as if she wasn’t in the room. Turning to Garry, he said, “Been doing yourself well, huh?” He looked around the room. “Ken and I certainly caught the crappy end of this stick, didn’t we?”
“Tough,” Garry said, smiling. “Never mind. You’ll recover.”
Fennel gave him an evil look, then turned away. Seeing the mood he was in, Gaye watched him, but didn’t speak.
“Where’s the lift?” Fennel asked. “This job could take me three or four hours.”
Garry turned to Gaye.
“You’d better stay here if it’s going to take that long.” She nodded.
“All right.”
“How about the TV snoopers?” Fennel asked.
“They’re there in the museum, but I’ve no idea where the monitor-room is or if anyone keeps watch at night.”
Fennel flushed with rage.
“Your job was to find out!” he snarled.
Garry went to the door, opened it and beckoned to Fennel.
“Take a look… there are about thirty-five doors down that corridor. It could be behind any one of them. We can’t walk in and check. Did you see any Zulus as you came through the garden?”
“No. What’s that to do with it?”
“The chances are if they aren’t patrolling the grounds, they don’t keep watch at night on the TV monitor.”
“If they do, we’re sunk.”
“There it is. Have you any ideas how we can check?”
Fennel thought, then shrugged.
“It could be anywhere… could be in one of the huts away from the house.” He hesitated. “It’s taking a hell of a chance.”
“We either take the chance or we leave without the ring.”
“Will you take the chance?” Fennel demanded.
“Sure, if you will.”
“Then let’s go.”
They moved silently into the corridor, leaving Gaye still sitting on the bed. A few minutes later, they were descending in the lift. When they reached the vaulted chamber, Garry pointed to the TV lens in the ceiling.
“There it is.”
Fennel moved under the lens and peered at it. Then he sucked in a deep breath.
“It’s not operating.”
“Sure?”
“Yeah.”
Garry wiped his sweating hands on the seats of his shorts.
“There’s the door to the museum. Do you want me to do anything?”
Fennel went to the door and examined the dial and the lock.
“No… just leave it to me. It’s going to take time, but I can get it open.” He opened his tool kit and laid out a selection of tools on the floor. Garry went over to a high-backed leather chair and sat down. He lit a cigarette and tried to contain his impatience.
Fennel worked carefully, whistling softly under his breath. His body concealed what he was doing, and after a while, Garry got bored watching his broad back, and getting up, he began to pace up and down. He smoked one cigarette after another and continually looked at his watch. After an hour had dragged by, he paused in his pacing to ask. “How’s it coming?”
“I’ve neutralized the time switch,” Fennel said, sitting back on his heels and wiping his forehead with his arm. “That’s the worst part of the job behind us. Now, I’ve got to tackle the lock itself.”
Garry sat down and waited.
Another hour dragged by, then Fennel gave a little grunt.
“I’ve done it!” he exclaimed.
Garry joined him at the door.
“Quicker than you thought.”
“Just luck. I’ve been five hours on one of these goddamn locks before now.” He stood up and pulled the door open. “Do you know where the ring is?”
“I’ll take you to it.”
Fennel hastily repacked his tool bag and together the two men moved into the picture gallery. Going ahead, Garry entered the second room and made for the lighted alcove. Then he paused, experiencing a sense of shock. The pedestal was there, but the glass box and the ring were missing.
“What is it?” Fennel demanded.
“It’s gone!” Garry licked his dry lips. “That’s where it was… it’s gone! I thought…”
He stopped short as he saw Fennel, his face twitching, was staring at the wide archway from which they had come into this room from the picture gallery.
Standing in the archway, wearing only leopard skins, were four giant Zulus, each holding a broad-bladed stabbing spear, their cruel, fierce black eyes fixed on the two startled men.
One of them said in guttural English. “You come with us.”
“What they call a fair cop,” Garry said and moved towards the Zulus.
Fennel hesitated, but he knew they hadn’t a chance against these four giants. Cursing softly, he picked up his tool bag and moved after Garry.
As the minutes crawled by, Gaye became more and more uneasy and restless. She prowled around the luxurious lounge wondering how Fennel was getting on. It was now nearly two hours since they had left the lounge. She kept telling herself Fennel had said it might be a four hour job. She wished now she had gone with them. This long wait was getting on her nerves.
Then she heard a gentle tap on the door. Thinking it was Garry, she hastened across the lounge and opened the door. She was confronted by a Zulu who towered above her, the overhead light making his black skin glisten and the blade of his assigai flash.
She stifled a scream and stepped hurriedly back, her hand going to her mouth. The Zulu glared at her, his eyes like wet stones.
“You come with me,” he growled and *stepped aside.
“What do you want?” Gaye asked, her voice husky with shock.
“The Master wants you… come!”
She hesitated. So Garry had been right after all, she thought, they had walked into a trap. By now she was recovering from her shock. There was nothing else to do but to obey, and lifting her head high, she walked out into the corridor.
The Zulu pointed to the double doors at the far end of the corridor with his assigai.
She knew it was useless to try to escape so she walked down the corridor, followed by the Zulu.
When she finally reached the double doors, they swung open automatically. Without looking at the Zulu, she walked into Kahlenberg’s office, her heart thumping and her mouth dry.
At the far end of the vast room, Kahlenberg was sitting at his desk, a cigarette between his fingers, Hindenburg at his side.
“Ah, Miss Desmond,” he said, looking up. “Please come and join me. I am watching something of great interest.”
As she moved around the desk, she saw the small TV set was on. Kahlenberg waved to a chair near his, away from Hindenburg who hadn’t taken his eyes off her since she had entered the room.
“Sit down and look at this.”
She sat down, folding her hands in her lap and looked at the lighted screen. Her heart skipped a beat as she saw Fennel kneeling in front of the door leading to the museum.
“I believe he is actually defeating my beautiful lock,” Kahllenberg said. “The makers assured me no one could do it.”
Fennel suddenly sat back on his heels.
“I’ve done it!” he exclaimed. His voice, slightly muffled, came through the speaker well enough.
Then Garry moved into the picture.
“Your friend is clever,” Kahlenberg said. Although he spoke mildly, his eyes glittered angrily. “I didn’t believe he could do it, but as you see, he has done it.”
Gaye said nothing.
“Usually, we immobilize the lift,” Kahlenberg went on, leaning back in his chair, his eyes still on the screen. “But I was interested to see if this expert could break in. I will have to talk seriously with the makers. This won’t do at all.”
They watched Fennel and Garry enter the museum. The picture changed to another angle as Kahlenberg reached forward and pressed a button on the set.
“I didn’t want to alarm your friends so I didn’t operate this set until they were satisfied it wasn’t operating,” Kahlenberg went on. Now I fear they are in for a disappointment and a surprise.”
The picture showed the two men staring at the pedestal in the lighted alcove.
Gaye heard Fennel say, “What is it?”
Leaning forward, Kahlenberg turned off the set.
“They will be here in a few minutes, Miss Desmond,” he said. He reached for a gold cigarette box and offered it. “A cigarette?”
“Thank you.” Gaye took a cigarette and accepted a light. “By the way, how is Mr. Shalik?”
If he had expected to startle her, he was disappointed. Her face was expressionless as she said, “Last time I saw him, he seemed very well.”
“He continues to concoct his miserable little swindles?”
“I really don’t know. He always seems to be busy, but just what he does I have no idea.”
“It is time he was stopped for good.” The flash of fire in Kahlenberg’s eyes made her remember that Garry had thought this man was unbalanced. “He is developing into a nuisance.”
“Do you think so? I should have thought he is no more of a nuisance than others,” Gaye said coolly. “After all, Mr. Kahlenberg, surely you are birds of a feather?”
Kahlenberg’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“What makes you say that, Miss Desmond?”
“Mr. Tak tells me everything in your museum is an original. I don’t imagine the authorities of Florence would have sold you the Ghiberti panel or the Bernini David. I do know you stole the Borgia ring. Surely you are just as much a nuisance to the curators of various museums as Mr. Shalik is to you.”
Kahlenberg smiled.
“Yes, I admit everything in my museum has been stolen, but there is a reason. I appreciate beautiful things. I need beauty. I am too busy to visit Europe so I prefer to have my beauty here where I can see it when I have the inclination. But Shalik only plots for money, not beauty. He lives for money as I live for beauty. I intend to stop him.”
“Perhaps he needs the money,” Gaye said. “You have more than enough. Perhaps you would be like Mr. Shalik if you had no money.”
Kahlenberg crushed out his cigarette. She could see he was controlling his temper only with an effort.
“You are a spirited woman, Miss Desmond. I am sure Mr. Shalik would be flattered to hear you defending him.”
“I am not defending him. I am just saying I see no difference between you and him,” Gaye said quietly.
At this moment the double doors swung open and Garry and Fennel walked in.
The four Zulus paused in the doorway, looking towards
Kahlenberg who dismissed them with a wave of his hand. They stepped back and the doors closed.
“Come in, gentlemen and sit down,” Kahlenberg said, waving to chairs opposite his desk. “As you see, Miss Desmond has already joined me.”
Garry went to a chair and folded himself down into it, but Fennel remained standing, glaring at Kahlenberg.
“Please sit down, Mr. Fennel,” Kahlenberg said quietly. “Let me congratulate you. I didn’t believe it was possible for anyone to open the door to my museum and yet you have done it. It is an achievement.”
“You can cut out the soft soap!” Fennel snarled. We came for the ring and we haven’t got it so now we’re getting the hell out of here and you’re not stopping us!”
“Certainly you shall leave,” Kahlenberg said, “but we have something to discuss first.”
“I’m not discussing anything with you!” Fennel snapped. He was livid with rage and disappointment. He looked at Gaye and Garry. “Come on… he daren’t stop us.” And he started towards the door, grabbed the handle but found the door locked. He spun around, glaring at Kahlenberg. “Open this door or I’ll break your goddamn neck!”
Kahlenberg raised his eyebrows.
“That could be dangerous for you, Mr. Fennel,” he said and made a soft clicking sound with his tongue against his teeth. Immediately, Hindenburg stood up and began to move slowly forward, his eyes on Fennel, his lips off his teeth in a ferocious snarl that made Fennel back away. “I assure you,” Kahlenberg went on, “my pet would tear you to pieces if I give him another signal. Sit down!”
Cowed by the cheetah, Fennel sat down abruptly by Garry. “Thank you,” Kahlenberg said, then went on, “I don’t want the effort you three have made to get the Borgia ring to be wasted. As Miss Desmond has rightly pointed out, the ring doesn’t legally belong to me. Since you all have shown so much initiative in getting as far as you have, I have decided to give you the ring on certain conditions.” He opened the drawer in his desk and took out the glass box, containing the ring. He placed the box on his desk where the three could see it.
Fennel glared at the ring and then looked at Garry.
“Is that it?” and when Garry nodded, Fennel turned to Kahlenberg. “What do you mean… conditions?”
Kahlenberg addressed himself to Gaye.
“Miss Desmond, although I live in considerable luxury, although I am an exceedingly busy man, there are times when I get very bored with myself. As you see, I am a cripple. I am chained to this chair. One of my ambitions when young was to be a hunter. Nothing would have given me more satisfaction than to go on safari. But being a cripple, this has been impossible and I admit to a certain frustration. Any form of frustration to a man of my power and wealth is intolerable.”
“What the hell is this?” Fennel demanded impatiently. “What are these conditions you are talking about?”
Kahlenberg ignored him.
“Here is the Borgia ring.” He picked up the glass box and handed it to Gaye. “I understand each of you will be paid nine thousand dollars when you hand the ring to Shalik.” He smiled bleakly. “You see, I have an excellent spy system. Nine thousand dollars to you is important money and naturally it will give you incentive to deliver the ring to Shalik.”
“You mean you are giving us the ring?” Fennel demanded.
“Miss Desmond already has it. I am now going to give you a further incentive… a much more important one… to deliver the ring to Shalik. But in spite of these two incentives, you still have to get the ring out of my estate.”
“So that’s it,” Fennel’s eyes narrowed. “Your savages are going to stop us… is that it?”
“If they can they will. I am going to arrange a hunt. You three and Mr. Jones who is waiting for you will be the hunted and my Zulus will be the hunters. You must regard it as exciting a game as I shall. You will have a reasonable chance to escape the hunters because I am going to give you a three hour start. You will leave here at 04.00 hrs. when it will be light enough for you to make good speed and you will need good speed. At 07.00 hrs. my Zulus will come after you. It will be entirely up to your speed and ingenuity to avoid them.”
“Are you serious?” Garry asked.
“Certainly I am very serious as you will discover should you be unfortunate enough to be captured.”
“Suppose we are captured? What happens?”
Kahlenberg inclined his head.
“A sensible question, Mr. Edwards. If you are captured, you will be cruelly put to death. My men are extremely primitive. In the days of Shaka, the famous Zulu chief, when he caught his enemies, he had them impaled. This is done by hammering a sharpened skewer into the lower intestine and leaving the victim to die slowly and in extreme agony.”
Garry’s face tightened.
“And your savages would do that to us if they caught us?” he asked.
“Yes, they would.”
There was a long pause, then Garry said, “So you are staging this hunt to pander to your perverted, sadistic frustration. Is that it?”
Kahlenberg’s face changed: from a courteous, mild spoken man he turned suddenly into a cruel, vicious looking lunatic.
“I am going to teach you not to trespass on my estate,” he said, leaning forward and glaring at Garry. “You have dared to come here with your ridiculous tale and now you will pay for it!” He gained control of himself and sat back, his mouth working and he remained motionless until his rage died down. “It is necessary to get rid of you all since you have seen my museum. It is essential that you don’t escape to talk.”
A little shaken to realize that his idea that Kahlenberg was mentally unbalanced was now confirmed, Garry said, “Then why give us the ring? Why not call your men in and kill us now?”
“The hunt will amuse me. You have the ring because if you do happen to escape, you deserve to keep it… but I assure you, it is unlikely you will escape.”
“Suppose we give you our word not to talk and leave the ring with you?” Garry said. “Would you allow us to use the helicopter and fly out?”
“No, and in case you are hoping to use your helicopter, I will tell you at once that it is under guard. Ten of my Zulus surround it and tomorrow early, one of my pilots will fly it back to the company you hired it from.” He pressed a button on his desk and a panel slid back on the opposite wall revealing a relief map of the estate and the house. “I will give you a reasonable chance and I would be disappointed if the hunt were over in a few hours. I would like it to last several days. So please look at the map and study it. You will see the exit from the east is blocked by a range of mountains. Unless you are all expert rock climbers, I wouldn’t advise you to go that way. I will warn you my Zulus think nothing of scrambling down the mountainside of these dangerous heights and they would quickly catch up with you. Nor would I recommend the exit to the south. As you can see from the map there is a river there, but what isn’t shown is that the approaches to the river is swamp land and infested by crocodiles and some of the most deadly snakes in Natal. The north exit is straightforward. That is the way you came in. However, twenty of my Zulus are always guarding that approach. You didn’t see them as you came in, Mr. Fennel, but they saw you and Mr. Jones and were continually reporting your progress. So I would advise you not to leave that way as although they let you in on my instructions, you may be sure they won’t let you out. So this leaves only the west. It is not easy, but possible. You will find no water there, but there is a good jungle track that leads finally to the main highway to Mainville. It is some hundred and twenty kilometres and you would need to hurry. A Zulu can easily keep pace with a fast moving horse, but you do have a three hour start.” Kahlenberg looked at his watch. “It is past my bed time. Please return to the guest suite and get a little rest. At 04.00 hrs. you will be released. Again I advise you to move as quickly as you can.” He pressed a button on his desk and the doors opened. The four waiting Zulus came in.
“Please go with these men,” Kahlenberg continued. “There is an old African saying which you will all do well to remember. It is that the vulture is a patient bird. Personally I would prefer a vulture to one of my Zulus. Good night.”
Back in the guest suite and when Fennel closed the door, Garry said, “He’s a pathological case. I had a feeling about him the moment I saw him. Do you think he’s bluffing about the Zulus?”
“No.” Gaye suppressed a shiver. “He is a sadistic pervert. That expression on his face when he let the mask drop! Let’s go now, Garry. They think the terrace doors are locked. We might gain seven hours if we leave at once.”
Garry went to the terrace doors and opened them. He paused, then stepped back, closing the doors.
“They are out there already… waiting.”
Gaye joined him and peered through the glass. She could see a half-circle of squatting Zulus, facing her: the moonlight glittered on their spears, their ostrich plumes moved in the slight breeze. Feeling frightened, she moved away from the doors and sat down.
“What are we going to do, Garry?”
“Are you any good on a mountain?” Garry asked, coming to sit by her side.
“I don’t think so… . I’ve never tried.”
“You can cut the mountains out,” Fennel said, wiping his face with the back of his arm. “I’ve no head for heights.”
“We’ll have to consult Ken. We have to start north to pick Themba up. Without him, we’re not going to get out.”
“That’s right,” Fennel said. “Ken says that the guy has a compass in his head. He’ll get us out.”
“Let’s have a drink.” Garry got to his feet and went over to the bar. “What will you have, Gaye?”
“Nothing at this hour.”
“Lew?”
“Scotch.”
As Garry mixed the drinks, he asked, “Has Ken got the Springfield with him?”
“No. We left it with Themba.”
“We could need it.”
“Yeah. We’ll pick up Ken, and then go straight to where we left Themba. He’s not only got the rifle, but extra water and most of the food. If we have to walk all the goddamn way, we could be at it for three or even four days.”
Garry saw Gaye was examining the ring through the glass of the box. He joined her and peered over her shoulder.
“Take it out and wear it,” he said. “That box is awkward to carry and could get smashed. The ring will be a lot safer on your hand than in the box.”
“If anyone’s going to wear it, it’ll be me,” Fennel said, putting down his drink.
“She’s wearing it,” Garry said quietly. “I trust her, but I can’t say I trust you.”
Fennel glared at him, but Garry’s steady stare made him hesitate. Finally, he sat down with bad grace and picking up his glass, he drained it. Okay, you sonofabith, he thought. I’ll fix you,
when I fix her.
Gaye took the ring out of the box.
“The diamonds are lovely, but the ring isn’t very beautiful, is it?” She tried the ring on the third finger of her right hand, but found it much too loose. “Of course, I was forgetting… it’s a man’s ring.” She slid it on her thumb. “This is all right. It’s a little awkward, but it won’t come off.”
Garry looked at his watch. The time was 02.00 hrs.
“Go and lie down, Gaye. I’m going to my room. We want all the rest we can get. We don’t know when we’ll get our next sleep.”
He watched her go to her room, then he went to his, ignoring Fennel.
Fennel stretched out on the settee. He knew he wouldn’t sleep. All his desire and frustration came back to him as he thought of Gaye.
If he had to follow her back to England, he told himself, he would get even with her. He had hoped to have found a chance of fixing her on the way back to Mainville, but they would have to keep moving if they were to shake off the Zulus. Fennel shifted uneasily. The thought of being hunted by a pack of Zulus dried his mouth.
A little before 04.00 hrs., Gaye was awakened by the sound of the beating of a drum. She sat up, swung her feet to the floor and listened.
Not far away, she could hear the rhythmic sound of the drum like a pulse beat. She looked hastily at her watch and saw it was two minutes to the hour. She snatched up her rucksack and went into the lounge.
Garry and Fennel were standing by the terrace doors.
A giant Zulu came across the terrace and beckoned to them. He was a magnificent specimen of a man in his leopard skin and ostrich plumes.
“Here we go,” Garry said and opened the terrace doors.
The drum beat now was very loud. A row of some thirty Zulus made a wall of glistening black bodies, covered with leopard skins. The ostrich plume head-dresses bobbed as they shuffled and stamped to the drum beat. They carried long narrow shields of buffalo hide and held in their left hands six throwing spears as they bent, straightened, shuffled and stamped. They made a frightening, awe-inspiring sight.
The lone Zulu made a savage gesture, jerking his assigai first at the three and then towards the distant jungle.
The two men slung their rucksacks on their shoulders and with Gaye between them, moved out on to the terrace.
At the sight of them the dancing men uttered a loud, savage growl that set Gaye’s heart racing. The drum beat increased.
They walked quickly across the lawn, looking ahead and not at the Zulus. Gaye had to control herself not to run. They kept on, and in a few minutes, they were in the jungle.
“Nice looking lot,” Garry said. “They are the boys who are coming after us. Where’s Ken?”
Fennel pointed.
“See that balancing rock up there? That’s where he is.” He cupped his hand to his mouth and bawled, “Ken! Come on down, pronto!” Then taking out his flashlight, he turned it on and began waving it. A light signalled back from the rock and they heard Ken shout, “I’m coming. Keep your light on.”
Five minutes later, he joined them.
“Did you get it? I thought you were going to the airfield.”
“We got it!” Fennel said. “We’ve got to get to Themba fast. The chopper’s out. Come on, I’ll tell you as we go.”
Ken peered at him.
“Trouble?”
“I’ll say… get going!”
Ken started off with Fennel, talking, by his side. Garry and Gaye kept together.
When Ken understood the situation, he increased his pace.
“You really think they’re coming after us?”
“Damn sure of it. I won’t worry so much once I’ve got the rifle,” Fennel said. “If they look like overtaking us, we can ambush them, but without the rifle we’re in dead trouble.”
As they hurried along the jungle track, Garry was thinking of the best way to evade the Zulus. If they took the exit from the west which Kahlenberg had said was relatively easy, it would develop into a race between them and the Zulus who could move with the speed of a galloping horse. The east exit was out. None of them had any experience of mountain climbing whereas, according to Kahlenberg, the Zulus had. The north exit was too dangerous. Garry felt sure Kahlenberg had been speaking the truth when he had said he had men already posted there. That left the south exit… swamps and crocodiles and possibly the last exit the Zulus would imagine they would try.
In around forty minutes, they reached the open space where they had left Themba. Twenty minutes less than it had taken Ken and Fennel to reach the balancing rock. They were all a little breathless and all jumpy.
“It’s that tree over there,” Ken said pointing.
“You sure? He’s not there.” Fennel stared across the open space in the dim light of the approaching dawn.
“Themba!” Ken shouted. “Themba!”
The silence that greeted them sent a chill through them. Ken broke into a run. The others followed him.
Reaching the tree, Ken stopped. He knew it was the tree under which they had left Themba. Not only did he recognize the stunted thorn bush he had noticed when he had left with Fennel, but there was a heap of firewood piled by the tree. Under this tree had been their jerry can of water, the bag of food and the Springfield rifle. There was no sign of any of these things. “The bastard’s skipped with our stuff!” Fennel snarled. “He wouldn’t do that. Something’s happened to him.”
It was Garry who spotted the grave away to his right.
“What’s that?”
They looked at the mound of freshly turned earth and moving together, they approached it.
So there should be no mistake as to what lay under the soil, placed on top of it was Themba’s Australian bush hat.
Ken was the first to realize what had happened.
“They killed him, and they’ve taken the food, the water and the rifle,” he said huskily.
For a long moment they all stood staring down at the grave.
Pulling himself together, Garry said, “Well, we now know what to expect. We’ve got to get moving. Look, Ken, Fennel’s told you about the four exits. I’m opting to go south. They’ll expect us to go by the west exit. With luck, by going south and through the swamps, they may not be able to track us. What do you think?”
“It depends how bad the swamps are. They can be sheer hell, and that’s crocodile country.”
“All the same, I think it’s our best bet. Have you a compass?”
Ken produced a small compass from his pocket.
“I’m a qualified navigator,” Garry went on. “Do you want me to lead the way or will you do it?”
“You do it. I’ve always relied on Themba.”
“Then we go south.” Garry steadied the compass and got a bearing. “Let’s go.”
He started along a track with Gaye at his heels. Fennel and Ken followed behind.
None of them said anything. Themba’s death had shocked them all. The danger that was threatening them had been sharply brought home to them.
They moved at a fast pace. The time was now 04.50 hrs. In a little more than two hours the Zulus would be after them.
They had been walking for some twenty minutes when Garry stopped and checked the compass.
“This track’s beginning to curve to the west,” he said as the other two came up. “We’ll have to leave it and cut through the jungle.”
They looked at the high tangled grass and the thorny shrubs and the trees.
“That’s going to slow us up like hell,” Fennel complained.
“Can’t be helped. We’ve got to go south and that’s the way to the south.”
“I don’t want to scare you,” Ken said quietly, “but this is snake country. Keep your eyes skinned.”
Gaye clutched hold of Garry’s arm.
“Don’t worry,” he said, forcing a grin. “I’ll look after you. Let’s go.”
They began to toil through the thick matted grass, zig zagging around the trees, aware of the chattering monkeys overhead.
Garry kept checking the compass. While Kahlenberg had been talking, Garry had been studying the wall map. He had realized that the river could be their salvation for he remembered as he flew over the estate, seeing the river in the distance and also seeing a small town to the south of it. The river was now vitally important to them as they had no water with them.
But he was also aware that since entering the jungle, their pace had slackened and he felt pretty sure the Zulus would have much less difficulty in covering this kind of ground than they were having.
After some three kilometres, they came out on to another jungle track which headed due south.
“How are you making out?” Garry asked, as he quickened his pace, catching hold of Gaye’s hand and pulling her along with him.
“I’m all right, but I wish we knew how far we have to go.”
“I don’t think it’s too far… around twenty kilometres before we get off the estate. I studied that wall map. This is the nearest exit to Kahlenberg’s boundary.”
Plodding along behind, Fennel was being handicapped by the weight of his tool bag.
“I’ll carry it for a bit,” Ken said, seeing Fennel was tiring. Fennel stopped and regarded the bag angrily.
“No, you won’t! I’ve had enough of this bloody thing. We’ll never get anywhere if we go on carrying it. So okay, it cost me money, but if we get out of here I can buy a new kit. If we don’t get out, then I won’t need one. To hell with it.” He heaved the tool bag far into the jungle.
“I would have carried it,” Ken said.
Fennel grinned crookedly at him.
“I know and thanks. I’m glad to be rid of it.”
They stepped out and soon caught up with the other two. Then suddenly the track petered out into a large puddle of oozing mud.
“This is where the swamp starts,” Ken said. “With the rain we’ve had, it could be bad.”
They left the track and moved into the jungle. The ground felt soft under their feet, but they pushed on. Later, the ground began to squelch under their weight and the going became harder.
By now the sun was up and they could feel the steamy heat. Garry kept checking the compass. When the ground got too sodden, they had to find a way around it and then get back on the compass bearing. The smell of rotting humus, the steamy heat that steadily increased as the sun climbed above the trees, the slippery boggy ground made progress slow and unpleasant.
They kept moving, their eyes searching the ground for snakes.
Ken said suddenly, “They’re on their way.”
Garry looked at his watch. The time was exactly 07.00 hrs. They all increased their pace with a feeling of slight panic, but the increase didn’t last long: the going was too hard.
Ken said suddenly, “I can smell water. The river’s not far off.”
Ten minutes later, they came out of the shade of the trees to a broad, slippery bank leading down to a brownish stream, not more than twenty metres wide.
“That’s our direction if we can get across,” Garry said. “Think it’s deep?”
“Could be.” Ken joined him and surveyed the water. “It’s no distance… just the curse of getting wet in that foul water. I’ll see.” He took off his shoes and shirt, padded across the oozing mud and grabbing hold of a branch of a tree, he lowered himself into the stagnant water while he groped to find bottom with his foot.
“It’s deep. We’ll have to swim.” He let himself go, then started across the stream to the other side of the bank with a strong, overarm stroke.
It happened so quickly none of the other three watching him believed what they were seeing. There was a sudden rush from the thick jungle grass on the opposite bank. Something that looked like a green and brown tree trunk flashed into the water near Ken. An evil looking scaly snout revealed itself for a brief moment. Ken screamed and threw up his arms.
Then he and the crocodile vanished under the water which became agitated and rapidly turned into a foaming vortex of stinking brown water, horribly tinged with red.