difficulty?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” snapped Sadie. “How can I be jealous of a man whose business is murdering animals? And besides, if Black Eagle is in difficulty it’s because Mr. Rat has driven away all my customers. It’s him you should be arresting, not me, and certainly not my friend who has done absolutely nothing.”
“Sadie,” cried Gwyn Thomas, “not another word! Do you want them to lock us up and throw away the key? Officer, can you read us our rights?”
The young constable looked surprised at being asked to do his job. Behind the wall, Ngwenya and the children were struggling to take in this bizarre turn of events. “You have the right to remain silent,” the constable parroted dutifully. “Anything you say can and will be held against you—”
“Wait,” said the other policeman. “Where is the man who usually works with you? Ngwenya, is it? Also, Mr. Ratcliffe mentioned some children.”
Fear flitted across Gwyn Thomas’s face.
“How did he . . . ?” Sadie began. “Never mind. Yes, you are quite correct, Mrs. Thomas’s granddaughter and a boy, Ben, were here, but you know how children are these days—in constant need of entertainment. They were bored in the bush with nothing to do. They missed television or video games or something. I had Ngwenya take them to Bulawayo to stay with some friends of mine for three or four days. He had some business in the city. He was going to spend time there and bring them back toward the end of the week.”
“Kids, they are very expensive,” agreed the young constable. “All the time my son is wanting new shoes, new clothes, new CDs, new books for school. And he is always eating. I tell him—”
“Shut up, Shepherd,” said the surly policeman. “You talk too much. Let’s take these women down to the station.”
The officers were marching their unlikely prisoners to the car when Magnus flew down from the trees and landed on the wall. He hopped along the chestnut bricks until he was close to Martine, then cocked his head and opened his beak as if he was about to start chatting to her.
From her crouching position, Martine tried to wave him away before he drew attention to them. Ngwenya even prodded him with a stick. But the hornbill just hopped out of range.
“What is that funny bird doing?” inquired the policeman, locking Gwyn Thomas in the back of the car and striding in their direction.
Through a hole in the wall, Martine saw it dawn on Sadie why Magnus was behaving so oddly. “I wouldn’t go too near if I were you,” she cautioned the policeman. “You’ve heard about the deadly bird flu that kills human beings within twenty-four hours? Well, it’s been proven that hornbills are particularly likely to get it. That hornbill has been sneezing for days.”
Magnus chose that very second to swoop off the wall and make a lunge for the keys that dangled, gleaming, from the policeman’s belt.
The policeman screamed like a girl. “Get away, sick bird,” he squawked, flapping his arms. “Get away!” He dived into the car and turned on the ignition.
Sadie took advantage of the distraction to say loudly, “I’m really glad that the children aren’t here, because if they were they’d be worried about us and there’s really no reason to be. This is a ridiculous misunderstanding. We’ll be back by lunchtime, I’m sure. But whatever happens, it’s nice to know that they’ll be safe with Ngwenya. He’ll take care of them.”
“Why are you shouting when I am right here?” snapped the constable. He bundled her into the backseat, tossing her crutches in after her. “Get a move on. You are making us late.”
The police car departed in a crunch of gravel. The engine faded and the blanketing silence descended once more.
Martine felt ill. Usually it was her grandmother who worried about her. Now it was the other way around.
“What do we do now?” Ben said.
Ngwenya’s face was grim. “We make a plan.”
12
“ D
“Don’t be ridiculous,” snapped Sadie. “How can I be jealous of a man whose business is murdering animals? And besides, if Black Eagle is in difficulty it’s because Mr. Rat has driven away all my customers. It’s him you should be arresting, not me, and certainly not my friend who has done absolutely nothing.”
“Sadie,” cried Gwyn Thomas, “not another word! Do you want them to lock us up and throw away the key? Officer, can you read us our rights?”
The young constable looked surprised at being asked to do his job. Behind the wall, Ngwenya and the children were struggling to take in this bizarre turn of events. “You have the right to remain silent,” the constable parroted dutifully. “Anything you say can and will be held against you—”
“Wait,” said the other policeman. “Where is the man who usually works with you? Ngwenya, is it? Also, Mr. Ratcliffe mentioned some children.”
Fear flitted across Gwyn Thomas’s face.
“How did he . . . ?” Sadie began. “Never mind. Yes, you are quite correct, Mrs. Thomas’s granddaughter and a boy, Ben, were here, but you know how children are these days—in constant need of entertainment. They were bored in the bush with nothing to do. They missed television or video games or something. I had Ngwenya take them to Bulawayo to stay with some friends of mine for three or four days. He had some business in the city. He was going to spend time there and bring them back toward the end of the week.”
“Kids, they are very expensive,” agreed the young constable. “All the time my son is wanting new shoes, new clothes, new CDs, new books for school. And he is always eating. I tell him—”
“Shut up, Shepherd,” said the surly policeman. “You talk too much. Let’s take these women down to the station.”
The officers were marching their unlikely prisoners to the car when Magnus flew down from the trees and landed on the wall. He hopped along the chestnut bricks until he was close to Martine, then cocked his head and opened his beak as if he was about to start chatting to her.
From her crouching position, Martine tried to wave him away before he drew attention to them. Ngwenya even prodded him with a stick. But the hornbill just hopped out of range.
“What is that funny bird doing?” inquired the policeman, locking Gwyn Thomas in the back of the car and striding in their direction.
Through a hole in the wall, Martine saw it dawn on Sadie why Magnus was behaving so oddly. “I wouldn’t go too near if I were you,” she cautioned the policeman. “You’ve heard about the deadly bird flu that kills human beings within twenty-four hours? Well, it’s been proven that hornbills are particularly likely to get it. That hornbill has been sneezing for days.”
Magnus chose that very second to swoop off the wall and make a lunge for the keys that dangled, gleaming, from the policeman’s belt.
The policeman screamed like a girl. “Get away, sick bird,” he squawked, flapping his arms. “Get away!” He dived into the car and turned on the ignition.
Sadie took advantage of the distraction to say loudly, “I’m really glad that the children aren’t here, because if they were they’d be worried about us and there’s really no reason to be. This is a ridiculous misunderstanding. We’ll be back by lunchtime, I’m sure. But whatever happens, it’s nice to know that they’ll be safe with Ngwenya. He’ll take care of them.”
“Why are you shouting when I am right here?” snapped the constable. He bundled her into the backseat, tossing her crutches in after her. “Get a move on. You are making us late.”
The police car departed in a crunch of gravel. The engine faded and the blanketing silence descended once more.
Martine felt ill. Usually it was her grandmother who worried about her. Now it was the other way around.
“What do we do now?” Ben said.
Ngwenya’s face was grim. “We make a plan.”
12
“ D
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