it. He listened to the report grim-faced,
and slammed it down again. ‘It was him, all right. And he has
gotten clean away. They found the boyfriend of the dead girl tied
to his car near the tarred road. Apparently he is in a state of
shock, and they have taken him the local doctor. As you heard, I
have instructed them not to sedate the man before we get there.
Let’s move. You can change clothes at the airport.’
It was just getting light when they boarded
the yellow Jetranger with the police logo on the sides and took
off. They headed due east, passing over the southern part of
Nelspruit, the street lights blinking pinpoints in an early morning
ground mist.
The colonel’s distorted voice was giving the
pilot instructions over the earphones. ‘Their local medic lives
about two kilometres out of town on the Swaziland road. There will
be a police van marking the turnoff. Get this bird moving.’
‘Yessir!’
There was no further conversation as the
yellow machine sped eastwards into the rising sun. They followed
the winding course of the Crocodile River through the gorge, the
mountains rising majestically on either side. Sam was looking
through the Perspex at the country he loved so passionately. The
first rays of the sun were striking chips of flashing light off the
wet, seeping rocks on the high slopes. Ribbons of mist undulated
through the black trunks of the myriad indigenous trees growing on
the steep slopes, while the densely wooded ravines, sanctuary of
the leopard and the greater kudu, were still shrouded in darkness.
He could imagine the silence prevailing in those woods, only the
song of awakening birds and the occasional bark of a baboon
reverberating off the krantzes.
The mountain fell behind, to be replaced by
flat fields of sugar cane stretching as far as the eye could see.
This used to be mainly tomato and tobacco country, until the sugar
mill was built fifteen years ago. Since then most of the bigger
farmers in the area had become overnight millionaires.
The chopper banked where the Swaziland road
turned off, and they started losing height, scanning the road for a
yellow van. They found the farm within minutes and the pilot set
the helicopter down expertly on the doctor’s front lawn, much to
the chagrin of the two lion-like boerboels, baring their vicious
teeth and growling at the strange machine invading their territory.
The doctor’s wife was on the front stoep, two young boys hanging on
her hands, pointing at the helicopter excitedly.
As they ducked from under the still whipping
blades, Dr. Hamilton approached and introduced himself. He led the
way towards his study, admonishing them about the patient. ‘He must
be sedated and hospitalised immediately. He is in a serious state
of shock. Please try not to upset him further.’
The man was sitting on an examination couch,
gripping the rubber sheet on either side of his knees. Dr. Hamilton
introduced him as Hannes Meyer.
‘Mr Meyer, we know this must be very
distressing, but please tell us as accurately as possible what
happened. As soon as we’re through we will fly you to the
hospital.’
The dazed expression remained. Meyer lifted
his eyes slowly towards Sam. ‘Jenkins, did you say? Are you the
ranger that was wounded? He talked about you. Said for me to tell
you never to stop looking over your shoulder. He’s coming back to
kill you. Better watch out. I think he means it.’ He started
babbling incoherently and the doctor intervened, gently pushing him
onto his back on the couch.
‘That’s enough now. I’m going to give you
something to make you sleep. Just relax and everything will be
okay.’
The colonel put his hands on the man’s arms
reassuringly. ‘Do as the doctor says, Mr Meyer. We are just going
to visit the scene, and then we will pick you up on our way back to
Nelspruit.’
It was a short flight to the fence. Following
the instructions of the police on the ground, the pilot put the
helicopter down in a clearing.
and slammed it down again. ‘It was him, all right. And he has
gotten clean away. They found the boyfriend of the dead girl tied
to his car near the tarred road. Apparently he is in a state of
shock, and they have taken him the local doctor. As you heard, I
have instructed them not to sedate the man before we get there.
Let’s move. You can change clothes at the airport.’
It was just getting light when they boarded
the yellow Jetranger with the police logo on the sides and took
off. They headed due east, passing over the southern part of
Nelspruit, the street lights blinking pinpoints in an early morning
ground mist.
The colonel’s distorted voice was giving the
pilot instructions over the earphones. ‘Their local medic lives
about two kilometres out of town on the Swaziland road. There will
be a police van marking the turnoff. Get this bird moving.’
‘Yessir!’
There was no further conversation as the
yellow machine sped eastwards into the rising sun. They followed
the winding course of the Crocodile River through the gorge, the
mountains rising majestically on either side. Sam was looking
through the Perspex at the country he loved so passionately. The
first rays of the sun were striking chips of flashing light off the
wet, seeping rocks on the high slopes. Ribbons of mist undulated
through the black trunks of the myriad indigenous trees growing on
the steep slopes, while the densely wooded ravines, sanctuary of
the leopard and the greater kudu, were still shrouded in darkness.
He could imagine the silence prevailing in those woods, only the
song of awakening birds and the occasional bark of a baboon
reverberating off the krantzes.
The mountain fell behind, to be replaced by
flat fields of sugar cane stretching as far as the eye could see.
This used to be mainly tomato and tobacco country, until the sugar
mill was built fifteen years ago. Since then most of the bigger
farmers in the area had become overnight millionaires.
The chopper banked where the Swaziland road
turned off, and they started losing height, scanning the road for a
yellow van. They found the farm within minutes and the pilot set
the helicopter down expertly on the doctor’s front lawn, much to
the chagrin of the two lion-like boerboels, baring their vicious
teeth and growling at the strange machine invading their territory.
The doctor’s wife was on the front stoep, two young boys hanging on
her hands, pointing at the helicopter excitedly.
As they ducked from under the still whipping
blades, Dr. Hamilton approached and introduced himself. He led the
way towards his study, admonishing them about the patient. ‘He must
be sedated and hospitalised immediately. He is in a serious state
of shock. Please try not to upset him further.’
The man was sitting on an examination couch,
gripping the rubber sheet on either side of his knees. Dr. Hamilton
introduced him as Hannes Meyer.
‘Mr Meyer, we know this must be very
distressing, but please tell us as accurately as possible what
happened. As soon as we’re through we will fly you to the
hospital.’
The dazed expression remained. Meyer lifted
his eyes slowly towards Sam. ‘Jenkins, did you say? Are you the
ranger that was wounded? He talked about you. Said for me to tell
you never to stop looking over your shoulder. He’s coming back to
kill you. Better watch out. I think he means it.’ He started
babbling incoherently and the doctor intervened, gently pushing him
onto his back on the couch.
‘That’s enough now. I’m going to give you
something to make you sleep. Just relax and everything will be
okay.’
The colonel put his hands on the man’s arms
reassuringly. ‘Do as the doctor says, Mr Meyer. We are just going
to visit the scene, and then we will pick you up on our way back to
Nelspruit.’
It was a short flight to the fence. Following
the instructions of the police on the ground, the pilot put the
helicopter down in a clearing.
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