“Very well.” He held up his hand when Avery attempted to speak again. “Hold your peace, sir. I am passing sentence. I fine all the first-time offenders ten rupees each. Mr. Ngigi will face thirty days’ imprisonment.” He waved his hand in dismissal. “Take those men out, Officer, but leave this boy, Jelani.”
The officer in charge directed the African constables to take charge of the men while he waited behind to see to Jelani. Jade saw Jelani’s gaze follow the men, and wondered if he knew them well. She thought she recognized one of the constables herself, but didn’t get a second look.
“Now,” said the magistrate, “about this second charge, inciting a riot.” He folded his hands together and leaned forward, as though expecting a tale of some sort.
The officer in charge explained. “All of the men had been reported as missing without leave by their employer. We located them at their village and were proceeding to take them into custody when this … this boy came out of a hut and told the runaways that they should refuse to go back and demand the right to quit their jobs. He even told the native
askaris
making the arrest that they should stand by their brothers and refuse to arrest them.”
Jade exchanged a sidelong look with Avery.
Our boy’s
becoming a leader earlier than I expected.
The magistrate leaned over farther and addressed Jelani. “It sounds as if you have been listening to Harry Thuku.”
At the name of the outspoken African leader, Jelani squared his shoulders.
“Well, answer me, boy.”
“You did not ask me a question,” said Jelani.
Jade heard Avery draw in his breath. She looked back at the magistrate to ascertain his reaction. He did not appear amused.
“These people,” he said, indicating Avery and Jade with a hand wave, “are present on your behalf. They have asked to hear your side of the story. If you do not explain your actions, you will do them a great dishonor, especially as I understand that the lady has taught you to read.”
“I will not dishonor Memsahib Simba Jike or Bwana Dunbury, but I will not say anything about the man called Harry Thuku. I said these things to my tribesmen because they are true. One man returned home because his father was very ill. He said he would go back to work for his bwana. Why wouldn’t the bwana wait? Should this man tell his father not to be sick now? Wait until my servitude is over? Do they need a white man’s permission to walk in their own country?”
Jade’s pulse raced at the words. She admired the strength of a youth who was willing to become a man and risk everything for his people. Surely the magistrate had to be equally affected, but his face was impossible to read, so well had he trained himself to school it in front of the assemblies.
Jelani continued to list the reasons the men had left their employers. One bore the marks of the
kiboko
, or hippo-hide lash, on his back. Another was frightened of what he thought was white man’s sorcery. “He said the bwana changed an animal from one kind to another and back again. Another man felt ill and wanted to consult the mundu-mugo for medicine. The last man wanted to visit his wife.”
“I see,” said the magistrate. “While I am certain each of these men felt his reason was important, it still remains that they broke their promise. They agreed to work for their bwanas for a certain amount of time. In return they would be paid so that they could pay their taxes and have money left to buy things.”
“There is nothing they want to buy,” said Jelani. “They do not care for lanterns and metal pots. It is the white man that wants them to buy these things, so he has to work. That is why they have to pay the tax. It is so they will work.”
“You don’t think work is important? Men should not work?”
“Yes, but they should do their
own
work.” Jelani took a step forward but the constable stopped him. With a quick glance at the officer, Jelani continued. “Who takes care of the village
shambas
or protects the goats now?”
The magistrate placed his hands palm down on his desk and took a deep breath. “You
have
been listening to Thuku. I recognize his words. But you’re just a boy and do not fully understand the importance of these laws. The hut tax is not an excuse to make men work. It pays for soldiers to protect the villages. It takes care of the roads that go from village to town.”
“Roads we are not allowed to walk on without travel permits,” said Jelani.
The magistrate stood. “Enough! I don’t intend to explain the law to a boy. In light of my earlier decision regarding your age, I declare you to be too young to pay the penalty for such activities. Instead, I release you to these people, whom you seem to respect. They will see that you return to your village after you are properly fingerprinted. You will be expected to work starting next month. Case dismissed.” He waved them out of the room and waited for the next case.
Jelani walked without a word toward Jade and Avery, who escorted him out of the courtroom and into the street. Jade struggled the entire way with what to say to him. But everything she came up with sounded patronizing. What did one say to a fallen warrior?
SAM HADN’T FELT this rotten or this good since the Armistice. He remembered that day clearly; he’d been drawn, wasted, and wounded. His right leg, gone from the shin down, still taunted him with phantom pains, especially at night. But knowing the war was over, and that he’d soon be released from the German camp to go home, overrode the pain and loneliness he’d felt for those last five months.
And so it was today. His body struggled to move after suffering through fevers, deliriums, and a diet of thin oatmeal. But Jade was alive! His pulse quickened as he thought of her. No doubt about it, she was definitely top drawer. It didn’t hurt that his plane wasn’t too badly damaged either, and that Jade had saved his job by finding the rhino calf. Yep! Things were looking up.
I’ll report to Mr. Perkins. Then I’ll pick up some Irish linen and a sewing kit to fix the wing.
He mentally added to the list as he reviewed what else Jade had told him.
Wrench set, clean rags, as many of those
two
and
three-gallon
cans of fuel as I can find.
Suddenly his good mood shifted. Somebody had deliberately fouled his engine. Not only that, but they’d done it so as to ensure he’d crash. The fact that they had nearly killed his girl by mistake only made it worse.
Low-down,stump-sucking,dung-brained, maggot-ridden
son of a mule’s backside. When I find out who did this, I’ll kick his face in so hard he’ll have to chew through his rear.
But who? And why? Someone had wanted him to take the blame for Stokes’ murder. That was why Finch had hauled him in, because someone had said he’d struck Stokes hard. But he’d found out that Stokes was a blackmailer, drawing motive away from himself. Did the real killer hope that his death would end Finch’s investigation? That he’d just assume the murderer had died and close the books? Or had Sam seen or overheard something incriminating and not known it?
A driver honked his horn at Sam, who hit the brakes before they collided in the intersection.
Pay attention.
It wouldn’t help matters to wreck Avery’s new Hupmobile. He shifted back into first and crept forward, then into second gear as he sought the side street that would take him to the old warehouses.
Okay, he could believe someone needed him to be the fall guy here. But was there some other reason for wanting him out of the way? As soon as Sam turned the corner, he saw Perkins talking with Cutter and Anderson.
Anderson!
Now there was a man who didn’t like him. Anderson wanted Jade for himself and the former doughboy resented Sam for being a pilot.
And crashing would certainly make me look bad!
Trouble was, thought Sam as he set the hand brake, he had no proof. He kept an eye on the men’s faces for any reaction to seeing him.
“Mr. Featherstone,” said Perkins, “we’d just about given up on you.”
“Mr. Perkins,” Sam said as he shook his hand, “my apologies for being late. I had some difficulties.”
He watched the other two men as he spoke but saw no sign of surprise or anger. Cutter listened with the air of a man ready to get to work. Anderson’s lips twitched in a slight sneer.
“Difficulties,” repeated Perkins, as Daley joined them. “Nothing serious, I hope.” He frowned. “You look like hell.”
“He looks like he’s been crapped out of the south end of a north-facing bull,” said Cutter.
Sam nodded. “Feel that way, too.” Seeing that they all expected more, he elaborated. “There was a problem with the airplane’s engine. Some fouling forced a landing.” He didn’t bother to tell them that he wasn’t the one who had put down in the bush. Again, he kept his eyes on all the men, especially Anderson. “However, you do have a rhino calf waiting for you. An orphan. It’s in a Maasai village right now.”
All four men grinned and whooped at the news, which surprised Sam. He expected Daley and Perkins to be happy, but he’d have bet money that both Anderson and Cutter would see retrieving the rhino as more hard work.
“This is great news, Mr. Featherstone,” said Perkins. “Not only did you find us a calf, but we don’t have to contend with its mother. You’ve earned your pay for sure. We’ll all get a hefty bonus if we can bring this animal back safely.”
That explained their exuberance. It also made Sam question Anderson’s role in fouling the engine. If he wanted this bonus that much, he’d ally himself with the devil before he did anything to muck it up.
“How far is this village?” asked Daley.
Sam explained the location, drawing a map for them. “If you leave by noon, you can get to the village by sunset.”
“Camp out in a truck with a bunch of killer natives around us?” said Cutter. “Hell, why not stay at the Naivasha Hotel tonight and get an early start tomorrow? Not
too
early, though.”
Daley agreed. “I’d like Jade to join us to take pictures. Ought to be some zingers with those Maasai warriors in there. Would you tell her for us?”
Sam saw Anderson’s face erupt in a big grin that Sam wanted to smear in the dirt. Instead he made a counterproposal. “I need Jade to help fix my plane. She’s a top-notch mechanic, you know. How about I take her out there today? We’ll camp and work on the plane at first light. You pick up Jade later on your way to the village. Then, after you’ve loaded up the rhino and Jade has the pictures, leave her with me on the return trip so she can help me finish up.”
Mr. Daley looked at his partner and shrugged. “Suits me. I’ll pay you the rest of your fee on our return trip, once we’ve caged the rhino.”
They shook on it, and Sam watched Anderson’s face fall. Perkins and Daley headed into their office, leaving Sam alone with the two Americans.
“Well, flyboy, you’re a real smarty-pants, aren’t you?” said Anderson. “Bet that pilot crap works on all the skirts, doesn’t it?”
Sam could put up with a lot of things, including insults to pilots, but calling Jade “a skirt” wasn’t one of them. He stepped closer to Anderson until they were only inches apart.
“I don’t appreciate your talking about Jade that way,” Sam said, his gravelly voice a low rumble.
Anderson didn’t move, but Cutter put a hand between them. “Break it up. Wayne, you know the rules on fighting.” He turned to Sam. “I don’t think he meant any disrespect to Jade—did you, Wayne?” When his friend didn’t reply, he shot him a look. “Did you, Wayne?”
“No insult meant for Jade,” Anderson said, inferring there was one meant for Sam.
“Well, then,” continued Cutter, “that’s that. If you’ll excuse us, we got work to do.”
Sam nodded and let Cutter lead Anderson away. He wondered at how quickly Cutter had stepped in. Almost as if he’d been afraid for his friend. Had he been the one who saw Sam’s argument with Stokes?
“You’re lucky, Anderson,” Sam said, calling after him.
“Oh?” asked Anderson, turning. “And how’s that?”
“You’re lucky
Jade
didn’t hear you call her a skirt. That lady throws a mean right.”
AVERY AND JADE took Jelani to be fingerprinted and documented before they brought him back to Avery’s home. The three rode in a bicycle-propelled rickshaw, which Avery hired. Jelani hadn’t spoken much throughout it all, but Jade placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder in case he worried that he was in trouble with them as well as with the Bureau of Native Affairs. They arrived home at the same time Sam did.
Beverly’s delight at seeing Jelani turned immediately to worry when she heard of his arrest. “You poor dear,” she said, “did they hurt you? Avery, please find the boy something to eat. Oh, I’ve got to hire some staff.”
“I am well, Memsahib Dunbury.” Jelani remained standing in the fancy parlor.
Jade noted that he’d switched from the more colloquial term “memsabu” to the more formal “memsahib” since their last meeting. “Jelani, please sit down. I want to talk with you, but as long as you are standing, I feel as if I’m interrogating you.”
Jelani lowered himself to the polished parquet wooden floor next to a zebra-skin rug. Jade sighed. He gripped his
kipande
in his right fist, refusing to wear it.
“I will not treat you as a boy, Jelani. Not after what I saw and heard today. Tell me, as your friend, what has happened.”
She saw Jelani take a deep breath and bite his lower lip as the frightened boy inside struggled to stay hidden behind the developing leader. She knew then that he longed for a comforting embrace or a sympathetic smile, but was forcing it back. A soft gasp from Beverly told Jade that her friend saw it, too, and wanted to give in to her growing maternal instincts. Jade held up her hand to stop her.
Avery returned with a tray containing a chicken quarter, a banana, and two pawpaws. He set the tray with a glass of water on the floor next to Jelani and went to stand behind his wife. Sam leaned forward in an armchair, his forearms resting on his thighs and his hands clasped. Jade wished Biscuit was there. His presence would go far toward easing the lad’s troubled mind. She tried another tactic.