Elephant Song - Smith Wilbur - Страница 48

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Before he reached the machine Chawe exclaimed and went down on one knee to scoop up a handful of spilled tea that Daniel had overlooked.

Quickly he followed the trail of tea to the broached case on the fork-lift.  Lift the case, Chawe!  Chetti Singh ordered and Chawe climbed behind the controls of the fork-lift and raised the case high.

A trickle of black tea leaves dribbled from under it.  Chawc jumped down and thrust his arm into the hole that Daniel had gouged out of the plywood.  You are a jolly clever fellow.  Chetti Singh shook his head at Daniel in mock admiration.  Just like Sherlock Holmes, no less.

But sometimes it is not wise to be too clever, my dear sir.  Looking into the Sikh's eyes, Daniel discounted the man's stilted clownish speech.

Those eyes were deadly.  This was no clown.  Chawe, where did the white man leave his truck?  he asked without moving the aim of the shotgun from the pit of Daniel's belly.  He came without lights, but I heard the truck on the south side.  I think he parked in the open land there. They were speaking in Angoni believing that Daniel could not understand it, but his knowledge of Zulu and Ndebele allowed him to make sense of it.

Go!  Fetch the truck, Chetti Singh ordered.

After Chawe had gone, Daniel and Chetti Singh confronted each other in silence.  Daniel was looking for some sign of weakness or indecision. The Sikh was calm and contained, the shotgun steady in his hands.

My arm is badly hurt, Daniel said at last.  My sincere commiseration, my dear Doctor.  There is danger of infection.  No.  Chetti Singh smiled.

You will be dead before infection can manifest itself.  You intend killing me?  That is an amazingly facetious question, Doctor.  What alternative do I have?  You have been clever enough to discover my little secret.  As I have often concluded, too much knowledge is a terminal disease.  Ha, ha!  If I'm going to die, why don't you satisfy my curiosity and tell me about Chiwewe?  Who proposed the raid, you or Ning Cheng Gong?  Alas, dear sir.  I know nothing of Chiwewe or this other fellow.  Besides I do not feel in a talkative frame of mind.  You have nothing to lose by telling me.  Who owns the Lucky Dragon Investment Company?  I am afraid, Doctor, that you will have to take your curiosity to the grave with you.

They heard the Landcruiser coming and Chetti Singh stirred.  That did not take Chawe long.  You could not have been at many pains to conceal your vehicle.  Let us go to the main door to greet him.  Will you lead the way, please, Doctor, and bear in mind that Mr.  Purdey's excellent firearm is only a foot from your spinal column.  Still nursing his injured arm Daniel set off towards the warehouse doors.  As they emerged from the aisle between the rows of packing-cases he saw a green Cadillac parked beside the empty railway truck.

Probably Chetti Singh had remained safely in the Cadillac until the leopard had returned to its cage.  Daniel remembered the shed at the back of the building, and the foul animal smell that he-had noticed earlier.

He was piecing it all together, working out where the leopard was kept and how it was controlled.  Even so, it was clear that neither Chetti Singh nor his henchman trusted the animal.  On the contrary they had been extremely nervous when the leopard was loose.

When they reached the main doors, Chetti Singh motioned Daniel to a standstill.  Then abruptly the heavy door began to roll aside, revealing Daniel's Toyota parked facing the entrance with its headlights burning.

Chawe was standing at the external control box of the electrically operated door.  When the door was- fully opened, he withdrew his key-card from the lock of the control box.  It was on a short key-chain and he dropped it into his hip pocket.

Everything is ready, he told Chetti Singh.  You know what to do, Chetti Singh replied.  I don't want any birds to fly back to settle on my roof.

Make sure you leave no sign.  It must be an accident, a nice simple accident on the mountain road.  You understand that?  They were speaking Angoni again, secure in the belief that Daniel could not understand.

There will be an accident, Chawe agreed.  And perhaps a little fire.

Chetti Singh turned his attention back to Daniel.  Now, dear sir.

Kindly mount to the controls of your automobile.  Chawe will tell you where to go.  Please obey him most faithfully.  He shoots very well with the shotgun.  Obediently Daniel climbed up into the cab of the Landcruiser and, at a word from Chetti Singh, Chawe took the seat directly behind him.  Once they were settled, Chetti Singh passed the shotgun to the big Angoni.  It was done as quickly and as neatly as an expert loader serving his gun in a Scottish grouse butt.

Before Daniel could take any advantage, the double barrel was pressed firmly into the back of his neck, held there by Chawe.

Chetti Singh stepped back to the open window beside Daniel.  Chawe's English is absolutely atrocious, never mind, he said jovially, and then switched to the lingua franca of Africa.  Wena kuluma Fanika-lo, you speak like this?  Yes, Daniel agreed in the same language.  Good, then you and Chawe will have no difficulty understanding each other.  just do as he orders, Doctor.  At that range the shotgun will make a most unsightly mess of your coiffure, no doubt.  Chetti Singh stepped back, and at Chawe's command Daniel reversed the Landcruiser, swung it in a Uturn and drove out through the main gates into the public road.

In the rear-view mirror he saw Chetti Singh walk back to the green Cadillac and open the driver's door.  Then the angle changed and Daniel could no longer see into the warehouse.

From the back seat Chawe gave curt directions, emphasising each with a jab of the shotgun muzzle into the back of Daniel's neck.  They drove through the silent and deserted streets of the sleeping town, heading east towards the lake and the mountains.

Once they were out into the country Chawe urged him to increase speed.

The road was good, and the Landcruiser buzzed along merrily.  By now Daniel's wounded arm was stiff and painful.  He nursed it on his lap, driving with one hand .

trying to ignore the pain.

Within an hour the gradient changed and the road began a series of hairpins as it climbed the first slopes of the mountain.

On each side the forest was denser and darker, pressing in upon the highway and the Landcruiser's speed bled off as she climbed.

The dawn came on stealthily, and beyond the shafts of the headlights Daniel saw the shapes of the forest trees emerging from the gloom.

Soon he could see their high tops defined against the dawn sky.  He turned his wrist and glanced at his watch.  His sleeve was stiff with dried blood, but it was light enough now to read the dial clearly.

Seven minutes past six.

He had had plenty of time to consider his predicament and to assess the man who held the gun to his head.  He judged him to be a tough opponent.

There was not the least doubt that he would kill without hesitation or compunction, and he handled the shotgun with a disheartening competence.

On the other hand it was an awkward weapon to use in the confines of the Landcruiser's cab.

Daniel considered his alternatives.  He quickly discarded the idea of attacking Chawe in the truck.  He would have his head blown off before he could turn to face him.

He might kick open the side door and throw himself out of the cab, but that meant that he would have to reduce the Landcruiser's speed below fifty to avoid serious injury when he hit the ground.  Gradually he lifted his-foot from the accelerator.

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