Poacher Read online

  ‘Linda. Even more beautiful than I remembered. I see you have visitors. Shall I come back later?’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous. We have all been waiting for you. It’s just Smitty and my partner. We’re having braai at the pool.’ She took his hand and led him through the house to the patio at the back.

  He wanted to stop her, talk to her, tell her what was happening to him, but then they were out in the sun once more, with people getting up out of chairs and shaking hands.

  ‘Duncan Courie, my partner, and his wife Esther. Smitty you have met.’ It was obvious that Smitty was not jumping for joy. He merely grunted and lifted his glass.

  Sam had never met Courie before, but his liberal reputation was way ahead of him. He was a sharp lawyer, of very left-wing persuasion. ‘Bloody Communist,’ Sam thought as he smiled amiably and shook hands. How the hell a Lebanese lawyer could do so well in the ultra-conservative Lowveld was beyond Sam. Courie, sporting a black goatee, was of slight stature, with a skin so white that he resembled a fresh cadaver. Looking at the man Sam wondered idly if he really was of Lebanese origin.

  ‘Drink?’ Linda asked, flashing him a smile that seemed to melt the fillings in his teeth.

  ‘A cold Castle if you have one, please.’

  ‘Smitty, would you mind fetching our guest a beer from the kitchen please?’

  Sam detected a slight tightening of the corners of the mouth as Smitty heaved himself out of the chair. ‘Sure thing, love.’

  Good sign, Sam thought, sitting down.

  ‘Beautiful place you have here,’ he commented, waving his hand in the general direction of the pool.

  ‘Oh, I just adore the Lowveld. You can just stick anything in the ground, give it food, water and love and it grows.’

  He thought about commenting on that, but let it pass for the time being.

  Smitty returned with the beer and Sam accepted the glass as well, although he preferred his beer straight from the bottle.

  ‘Thanks, doc.’ Again he detected the tightening around the mouth. Stuff you, he thought.

  ‘So,’ Courie said, ‘You are the man with the key to Mozambique,’ referring to the Park gate at Nwanetzi.

  Most of the blacks employed by the Parks Board were from the Shangaan tribe in Mozambique. To facilitate their movement between the two countries a gate was established at Nwanetzi by mutual consent of the two governments. It was always locked, but once a month, when the labourers had a long weekend, Sam opened it and acted as immigration official to the employees on weekend passes. It was actually a farce, as nobody wanted to go home to a war zone. What made things worse were the roving bands of deserters from both armies, raping, killing and looting, and having themselves a great time in the confusion created by the civil war. In both armies the line of command was often non-existent, which contributed to the chaos.

  The labourers only used this concession to take food to their families in Mozambique. The last Thursday of every month found Sam sitting behind a table under a beach umbrella on one side of the border, dishing out sacks of maize meal as rations to the departing labourers, while a horde of their countrymen with AK47 assault rifles were confiscating the stuff on the other side of the fence. Sometimes the Parks employees were fortunate enough to negotiate a deal with the soldiers and deserters, enabling their people to take at least some of the food to their kraals. This made it all worthwhile to them.

  ‘Yeah, but we are fighting a losing battle with the rations,’ Sam said, in reply to the lawyer.

  ‘It would appear so, yes. And with the poachers. And with the illegal immigrants.’

  Linda’s female intuition warned her of the animosity that was lying just beneath the surface between the two men, and she interrupted the conversation before one of them could antagonise the other. ‘Smitty, seeing that you are on duty at two you had better start the fire if you don’t want a hungry shift ahead of you,’ she said.

  This immediately put Sam in a jovial mood. He was going to get close to her. Alone. No Smitty breathing down his neck.

  Courie was also being Mr Nice himself. ‘Let me fetch you another drink, darling,’ he smiled at his wife. ‘Linda, you OK? Sam?’

  ‘It’s all right Duncan, thanks,’ Linda said. ‘Go ahead and help yourself. Sam, I think you can pour me a Pimms, please. Everything is on the counter in the kitchen. And get yourself another beer.’

  ‘I’ll also have another Castle please, Sam,’ Smitty said, busying himself with the glowing charcoal.

  ‘Coming up. You want it on the rocks, Linda?’

  ‘Please, Sam.’ Accompanied by a smile that shook his foundations once more.

  When he passed her her drink their fingers touched briefly and they exchanged glances. ‘This woman is unreal,’ he thought. ‘This can’t be happening. I shouldn’t even be here.’

  The underlying tensions amongst the three men gradually abated and the conversation drifted into trivialities. Sam was infatuated. Totally smitten, he couldn’t keep his eyes off Linda, a fact that didn’t escape the others, especially Smitty.

  ‘Long drive back tonight, Sam,’ he commented hopefully.

  ‘Actually I was planning on taking Linda to dinner tonight and staying in the hotel till tomorrow. It is a bit risky driving through the Park at night. If that is all right with you?’ he asked Linda.

  ‘Sounds super,’ she replied.

  ‘Gotcha, you superior bastard,’ he thought while smiling at Smitty.

  The steaks were excellent, as were the salads.

  After the meal Smitty reluctantly excused himself, and the Couries left not long afterwards. Seeing them off in the driveway Sam couldn’t resist a parting shot. ‘Duncan. Someday when you are really interested to see for yourself why we are fighting a losing battle, come and visit me for a couple of days, and I’ll show you things you won’t believe. Maybe you can make a useful contribution. Like not trying to get the poachers off the hook every time.’

  ‘I just might take you up on that. Be seeing you.’ With that he gunned the Jaguar out of the driveway and Sam gazed at the disappearing car with a slight frown. For a civilian, Courie knew a hell of a lot about what was happening on the eastern border. The gate at Nwanetzi was definitely not public knowledge.

  ‘Never mind him, Sam, he tends to be a bit outspoken at times.’ She took his hand and they walked to the front door. He imagined an electric current passing from her hand, shooting up his arm and blowing a couple of million synapses in his brain.

  The moment they were in the foyer she was in his arms and he was kissing her. When he wondered about it later he could not remember how it happened. He crushed her to him and time stopped. He was acutely aware of her smooth skin under his right hand and her lithe body moulded to him. He slid both hands down her back to her buttocks and pulled his head back slightly, looking into her eyes. ‘What are you doing to me, woman?’ With her thighs pressed tightly against his she must have been fully aware of what she was doing to him, for she put her hands on his chest and pushed him away gently. ‘No, Sam, you are engaged. You are getting married next year. This isn’t going to work out.’

  ‘Who told you that?’

  ‘Never mind. Let’s go for a swim.’

  He couldn’t think of anything snappy to come up with and sheepishly let it ride.

  ‘Get your things from the car, and you can get dressed in the guest room. Second door to your left down the passage.’

  He left his suitcase in the trunk, just taking his bathing costume and a towel. She was behind a closed door at the end of the passage, and on his way through the kitchen he got her another Pimms and a beer for himself.

  He was sitting on the top step in the pool, pipe clenched between his teeth and the beer in his hand when she came walking through the French doors. His pipe dropped into the water and his eyes bulged. ‘Holy sh--!’

  She had on a shocking bright yellow bikini bottom, and that was it. The tan on her high, firm breasts made it clear that this was her regular a
ttire.

  She sat down next to him in the water and leaned across him, reaching for her drink, her nipple brushing his arm lightly. Sam was awestricken and was absentmindedly patting the bottom of the pool, searching for his pipe.

  She looked at him and smiled.

  ‘What’s the matter, Sam. Don’t you approve?’

  ‘Of course I approve. You are the most magnificent woman I have ever set eyes on. It’s just that you caught me off sides there for a while.’ He had difficulty looking her in the eyes as he was talking.

  ‘What about the neighbours?’ he asked, scrutinising the hibiscus hedge surrounding the property.

  With his conservative Afrikaner background this was all new to him.

  ‘Stuff the neighbours,’ she said, shaking him to his foundations once more.

  He was now completely rattled and busied himself with the drying of his pipe.

  ‘Who told you I’m getting married?’ He had to get some sort of conversation going.

  ‘Sam, I liked you from the very beginning. It is my business to know things that are liable to affect me.’

  He took her face in his hands and kissed her lightly. ‘I love you,’ he blurted, unable to stop himself.

  ‘Don’t say that.’ She once again pushed him away gently. ‘Go fetch us another drink.’

  Building her drink he looked at her through the kitchen window. ‘Jenkins you’re in deep shit,’ he mumbled to himself. He felt like a bumbling amateur, completely out of control, and he had no idea where they were headed. He had the fatalistic sensation of going downhill in a large truck with a full load and no brakes. And to make things worse, he was on a completely unfamiliar stretch of road. Nothing to do but roll with the punches, he decided.

  He lowered himself into the pool next to her again, trying to ignore the two accusatory nipples that had hardened slightly in the cool water.

  ‘So what about Smitty,’ he wanted to know. ‘Anything serious?’

  ‘Like the song says, we’re just friends.’

  ‘Not bloody likely,’ he thought, but refrained from commenting.

  He floated out to the middle of the pool and turned around, facing her, ‘You are a witch,’ he said, wading towards her. He was serious and was looking into her eyes with an intensity that made her apprehensive. ‘You have cast a spell over me that makes me do things I should not even be dreaming of.’

  He drifted over her legs where she was sitting on the top step, and she lowered her knees to accommodate him. His hands were around her and he was kissing her breasts. Her hand was in his hair and she pulled his face towards hers. ‘Sam, oh Sam, what’s happening to us?’

  The snake coiled again, and he crushed it beneath his heel without even thinking about it.

  He took her hand and led her into the house.

  They did not make love. They copulated furiously like two rutting animals. As she screamed and scratched, he drove into her relentlessly. He could not get enough of her. He wanted to lose himself in her, be part of her forever.

  Having spent themselves, the world took a long time righting itself and returning to normal. He traced his fingers across her flat muscular belly that was slick with sweat. ‘I love you,’ he said without opening his eyes. She was looking at him with post-coital dilated pupils. ‘Don’t say that, Sam. It will only cause heartbreak. We found each other too late.’

  ‘Like hell,’ he said sitting up morosely. He was at a loss for words. He was feeling guilty as hell but he knew that if he could turn back time he would do it all over again.

  He got up and sauntered to the fridge. ‘Pimms?’ he asked.

  ‘I need one.’

  They never got to the restaurant. Instead she made them smoked oysters on toast, and they spent the evening discovering each other mentally and physically.

  ‘We have to get some sleep,’ she murmured at one stage. ‘You have to leave early tomorrow.’

  ‘I am not leaving you,’ he said, folding his arms around her once more.

  Once again the slight stiffening. She pulled her head back and looked at him. ‘I am sorry, Sam, but I have a date that I cannot cancel. I am not in the habit of going back on my word.’

  ‘“Is it bloody Smitty again?’ he asked heatedly.

  ‘You are being unfair and you know it. You also know that this is infatuation and there is no future in it.’

  ‘Is that all this means to you? Infatuation? Of course there is a future in it,’ he said, overriding his screaming conscience and barging along the unknown road leading to God knows where.

  Having barely slept at all he left the next morning at seven.

  ‘When do I see you again?’ he asked, pressing her back against the car with his body. Her hands were clasped behind his neck and she smiled up at him, looking as if she had had eight hours beauty sleep. ‘Any time, Sam just call,’ and she pressed her body against him.

  Driving off, he was even more confused than before. The events of the past twenty-four hours were like pieces of two entirely different jigsaw puzzles. Did she love him or was she playing with him?

  Was he, for that matter, in love with her, or was she right in saying that it was merely infatuation?

  ‘Boy,’ he mumbled to himself, ‘if last night was infatuation I could live off it forever.’

  It was still fairly early when he entered the Park. He had no inclination to spend the Sunday alone at his house trying to study. It would be a waste of time, anyway. He had too much else on his mind.

  Instead of carrying on straight past Satara towards Nwantezi, he turned north. Louis was stationed at an outpost halfway between Olifants and Letaba rest camps, another hundred-odd kilometres away.

  It was just past eleven when he opened Louis’s gate to be greeted by the two magnificent Staffordshire Terriers. He drove into the yard and closed the gate behind him, taking care to latch it, so as not to give the dogs a chance to get out.

  Of all the employees in the Park, only the game rangers were allowed to keep dogs. The life expectancy of a dog in the Park was not very good. Many a young dog had been lost to raptors within a few yards of their masters. Martial eagles had been known to take fully grown fox terriers, so small dogs were out. Any dog outside the fence had practically no chance of survival, unless he was well trained and accompanied by his master.

  A dog that had survived to maturity was therefore considered a valuable asset, and was well looked after.

  During his nine years in the Park, Sam had lost eighteen dogs of which two had died of natural causes.

  His most recent loss was still fresh in his memory. Brutus, a cross between a Rottweiler and a Doberman, had been accompanying him on a foot patrol along the Shikellengane spruit when they came across a troop of baboons. The troop fled across the shallow stream, jumping from rock to rock and screaming all the way. Brutus was halfway across when Sam called him back, knowing that the troop would turn on him the moment they were out of sight.

  Mercifully it had happened so quickly that Brutus never knew what hit him. The three-metre crocodile exploded out of the water like a cruise missile and swept him off the rock in one great splash. With the great jaws closing on him with a clearly audible crunch, Brutus was most probably dead before he was wet.

  Sam sighed and walked towards the house. Louis was just coming out the back door. ‘Will you look at the outfit! Casanova on the hunt?’

  It struck Sam that he had clean forgotten about the flashy clothes he was wearing. He grinned self-consciously. ‘Try as I may, the inbred culture still floats to the surface occasionally. Sorry if I’m embarrassing you.’

  ‘Sammy boy, how are things?’ It was clear that Louis was not just thankful to be saved from his books, but was also genuinely pleased at seeing his best friend. Although both of them had university degrees in Nature Conservation, they were studying for a diploma in game management. But it was tough going.

  ‘In a state of disorder, my man. Get us a Castle while I take a leak.’

  ‘Righ
t. Come to the front stoep when you’re through.’

  When they were comfortably settled with a pipe and a beer each, Louis said, ‘Want to tell me what’s the idea, pitching up here on a Sunday dressed like a gigolo? I was under the impression all that was behind you. What’s happened to the old routine “I’m gonna settle down now and quit this buggering around and get married and start a family and Hannah Hannah Hannah”?’

  Louis was grinning, but when Sam lowered his gaze dejectedly and said, ‘My friend, I’m in deep shit,’ the grin changed to a frown.

  ‘What do you mean? Trouble with Estelle?’

  ‘No. But it could be heading that way.’

  ‘Pray tell.’

  After Sam had spilled the whole story both were quiet for a while.

  ‘You can’t do this to Estelle,’ Louis said, ‘you hurt that woman and I’ll never talk to you again. Get this floozy out of your system while you still can.’

  ‘Problem is I can’t. And she is no floozy.’

  ‘Bullshit, man. You are thinking with your knackers. Use your head, you can’t seriously be considering swapping Estelle for this woman. For any woman, for that matter.’

  ‘I suppose you’re right, but hell . . .’

  Silence descended once again.

  ‘Did you leave before radio session yesterday?’

  ‘Yeah, why?’

  ‘I won’t bother to ask you if you had time to watch the news or read a paper. While you were buggering around things have been happening around here. Joao killed a policeman, set the poachers free, and jumped the wire with them.’

  Sam looked at him with disbelief. ‘What have you been smoking?’

  ‘I’m serious.’

  ‘Bullshit, man. Impossible.’

  ‘The guy in the hospital talked. The main poacher, Rui dos Santos, is Joao’s kid brother. It’s been an inside job all along. Joao knew the wounded guy was going to talk, so he sprung his brother and headed for the border. Late on Friday afternoon he had eighteen thousand rand transferred from a Johannesburg bank and he cleaned out the account.’

  Sam was totally thunderstruck. ‘I don’t believe it – we were friends.’