important that the lodge owners feel something is being done and the situation is under control.”
“We would like to help you, Mma Michael, but to do that is a waste of our time,” Naledi said.
“But you will be hunting legally. Who knows what you might stumble on while you look for the tau ?”
“Ah, you think we may have to remove some beasts from this area that could be considered a problem? You think by reducing the possible food supply, this bad lion will have to show himself, if, of course he is still here?”
“You never know, with lions,” she said.
The men smiled. They had not hunted in many years. Fresh meat would be a blessing.
“We will help you out in this undertaking for a week, Missus,” Kaleke said. “That should keep that Pako satisfied.” The others nodded in agreement.
Chapter 19
“He’s not here.” Brenda sounded angry. Had the boy actually done something? No, not likely. She added that she didn’t know where he was and didn’t care, either. Of course not.
Leo hung up, put on his jacket, and headed out the door. He patted his jacket pocket where he’d secured Farrah’s documents, neatly folded into thirds. Bobby would be in the restaurant or the bar, more than likely. He’d find him soon enough. But first he had to go to Barclay’s Bank and retrieve the check, spelled cheque , as the message from the desk had it, from the wire transfer he’d arranged with Chicago’s First National. Leo had anticipated the need for a bank to work with in Botswana, especially with the project he had contracted Greshenko to spearhead for him, so he’d opened an account at the large international bank earlier. Transferring the funds had been simple enough.
Farrah had convinced him to change his mind about the dates on the documents and had him leave them blank. Probably just as well. The more he thought on the maneuver he and the boy were about to make, the more he wondered if he shouldn’t slow down, take a step back, and rethink the whole thing. He didn’t like the boy, and he was angry at Travis for playing Brutus, but that didn’t mean he had to destroy them, not yet, anyway. He found his car and driver waiting for him at the hotel’s entrance. He slid into the back seat with a grunt and gave the driver his destination. The Volvo pulled away and headed downtown. As often as he’d visited London and other drive-on-the-left countries, he still had a hard time getting used to it. He settled back in the seat, flinching every time the car turned into what his instincts told him was the wrong lane. He retrieved a cigar from his inside pocket, studied it and put it back. It held no appeal. He was tired. He didn’t sleep well the night before, or anytime for that matter, and he felt old. His workload was killing him. That’s what the quack said. Hell, he probably had it right.
If only…
How many men whose hearts can no longer be relied on and who, therefore, face a possible early and unpredictable end had uttered those words over the years? If only.
His phone vibrated in his pocket. It was not the Blackberry that he required all his employees to use, but one he’d purchased locally and which he used only for communicating with Greshenko.
“It’s about time I heard from you. What have you got for me?”
“Several things you need to think about before we make any more moves.”
“Go ahead, and please don’t tell me we have trouble already. I just wanted you to make some contacts, set up appointments with the people who can make this project happen.”
“No trouble in that department, at least not yet, Mr. Painter. That’s not it.”
“What then?”
“First, I spotted what I think must be a policeman on my tail. He was with me from the time we arrived and ever since. He knows where I’ve been and to whom I’ve spoken. Is that a problem for you? It is for me. Police, any police, make me nervous.”
“I don’t know. Should it be?”
“We need to find out what he’s
“We would like to help you, Mma Michael, but to do that is a waste of our time,” Naledi said.
“But you will be hunting legally. Who knows what you might stumble on while you look for the tau ?”
“Ah, you think we may have to remove some beasts from this area that could be considered a problem? You think by reducing the possible food supply, this bad lion will have to show himself, if, of course he is still here?”
“You never know, with lions,” she said.
The men smiled. They had not hunted in many years. Fresh meat would be a blessing.
“We will help you out in this undertaking for a week, Missus,” Kaleke said. “That should keep that Pako satisfied.” The others nodded in agreement.
Chapter 19
“He’s not here.” Brenda sounded angry. Had the boy actually done something? No, not likely. She added that she didn’t know where he was and didn’t care, either. Of course not.
Leo hung up, put on his jacket, and headed out the door. He patted his jacket pocket where he’d secured Farrah’s documents, neatly folded into thirds. Bobby would be in the restaurant or the bar, more than likely. He’d find him soon enough. But first he had to go to Barclay’s Bank and retrieve the check, spelled cheque , as the message from the desk had it, from the wire transfer he’d arranged with Chicago’s First National. Leo had anticipated the need for a bank to work with in Botswana, especially with the project he had contracted Greshenko to spearhead for him, so he’d opened an account at the large international bank earlier. Transferring the funds had been simple enough.
Farrah had convinced him to change his mind about the dates on the documents and had him leave them blank. Probably just as well. The more he thought on the maneuver he and the boy were about to make, the more he wondered if he shouldn’t slow down, take a step back, and rethink the whole thing. He didn’t like the boy, and he was angry at Travis for playing Brutus, but that didn’t mean he had to destroy them, not yet, anyway. He found his car and driver waiting for him at the hotel’s entrance. He slid into the back seat with a grunt and gave the driver his destination. The Volvo pulled away and headed downtown. As often as he’d visited London and other drive-on-the-left countries, he still had a hard time getting used to it. He settled back in the seat, flinching every time the car turned into what his instincts told him was the wrong lane. He retrieved a cigar from his inside pocket, studied it and put it back. It held no appeal. He was tired. He didn’t sleep well the night before, or anytime for that matter, and he felt old. His workload was killing him. That’s what the quack said. Hell, he probably had it right.
If only…
How many men whose hearts can no longer be relied on and who, therefore, face a possible early and unpredictable end had uttered those words over the years? If only.
His phone vibrated in his pocket. It was not the Blackberry that he required all his employees to use, but one he’d purchased locally and which he used only for communicating with Greshenko.
“It’s about time I heard from you. What have you got for me?”
“Several things you need to think about before we make any more moves.”
“Go ahead, and please don’t tell me we have trouble already. I just wanted you to make some contacts, set up appointments with the people who can make this project happen.”
“No trouble in that department, at least not yet, Mr. Painter. That’s not it.”
“What then?”
“First, I spotted what I think must be a policeman on my tail. He was with me from the time we arrived and ever since. He knows where I’ve been and to whom I’ve spoken. Is that a problem for you? It is for me. Police, any police, make me nervous.”
“I don’t know. Should it be?”
“We need to find out what he’s
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