Michael Ridpath - See No Evil

‘I don’t know. Maybe she’s looking for a quiet airfield somewhere a long way from here where she can land and disappear. Has she much flying experience?’

‘Oh, yes,’ said Cornelius. ‘She’s flown all over the country.’

‘Let’s follow her and see where she lands. Then at least we can tell the police. Here, pass me that.’ Calder pointed to a map on the coaming in front of Cornelius. He handed it over.

Calder glanced at it. South Africa was a huge country, covered in small landing strips. She could be going anywhere.

‘I’ll see if we can get some help,’ he said, pressing the mic button on his radio. He had no idea of the local channels: the radio was tuned to 119.0. ‘Mayday Mayday Mayday. This is...’ He glanced at the aircraft registration taped to the instrument panel ‘... Zulu Sierra Romeo Tango Oscar.’

‘Mayday, Zulu Sierra Romeo Tango Oscar, Lowveld Information, go ahead.’

‘Lowveld Information, I’m a Cessna 172 about fifteen miles west of the Kupugani game reserve. I’m pursuing a Piper Warrior about five miles ahead of me. The pilot was involved in an attempted murder at Kupugani. The local police have been informed. My intention is to track her and watch where she lands.’

There was a brief silence as the controller digested what must have been a very odd radio call.

‘Tango Oscar, squawk two-one-zero-seven for identification. We’ll contact the police now.’

Calder twiddled the knob on his transponder to 2107. The transponder would send out a signal that Lowveld Information could monitor to find his position.

‘Tango Oscar, we have you identified.’

‘Can you see the aircraft in front of me?’ Calder asked.

‘Negative, we have secondary radar only.’ That meant they wouldn’t pick up a signal from Zan’s aircraft unless her own transponder was switched on, which was highly unlikely.

‘Have you contacted the police yet?’

‘Tango Oscar, stand by.’

‘She’s changing direction!’ Cornelius was pointing up towards Zan’s Warrior. It had indeed altered course about thirty degrees to the north.

‘She must have heard our radio transmission,’ Calder said. ‘She’s looking for us.’

While they were directly astern and below Zan, it was impossible for her to see them, and they had been able to catch her on full power setting. Now they were no longer gaining as Zan, too, put on full power.

‘Damn. She’s heading for that cloud!’ They were climbing past 6,000 feet, the level of the white puffs of cloud. Zan’s aircraft was heading for the largest of these. Within a minute it had plunged inside. Calder throttled back and stayed beneath the cloud, craning his neck from side to side. No sign of Zan. They passed the length of the cloud, but the Warrior hadn’t emerged.

‘She must be circling in there,’ said Calder.

‘There she is!’ said Cornelius.

She was now heading south-west, climbing towards a larger cloud bank that was forming just above the Drakensberg escarpment. Calder turned tightly to follow her. Once again she entered the cloud. The mountains were too close below, so Calder climbed to try to get above the layer. A thousand feet higher he set up a wide circle pattern.

He couldn’t see her.

She’d got away.

‘Tango Oscar, this is Lowveld Information. We’ve spoken to the police and they have confirmed your story. Do you still have visual with the Warrior?’

‘Negative,’ said Calder. ‘I’m still looking but we lost her in cloud. She was heading south-west on two-three-zero, but God knows where she is now.’

‘I’ll see if Hoedspruit can help,’ said the controller.

‘Hoedspruit?’

‘It’s an air-force base with primary radar. Stand by.’

Thirty seconds’ more circling and then the radio crackled into life. ‘Tango Oscar, Hoedspruit has identified the other aircraft on their radar. It’s heading zero-four-zero about fifteen miles away from you, descending.’

‘Zero-four-zero!’ said Calder, examining the map. ‘That’s, towards Zimbabwe.’

‘Affirm,’ said the controller.

‘We’re going after her,’ Calder said, and turned his aircraft to the north-east. ‘Can you scramble a jet or something to intercept her?’

‘I’ll see what I can do,’ said the controller. ‘But scrambling fighters is a big deal.’

They were once more over the low bush, miles and miles of it stretching forward as far as the horizon. Although they couldn’t see Zan’s aircraft, the controller gave them bearings. She had descended to 300 feet, which would make her more difficult to spot, but it did slow her down. Calder stayed at 2,000, where the air was that little bit thinner, hence providing less resistance and better fuel consumption. The Cessna and the Piper had broadly similar cruising speeds, but they had a weight disadvantage in the shape of Cornelius, two hundred and something pounds of him.

Calder pulled back on the throttle a little. Maximum power meant maximum fuel usage. They could continue to follow Zan only if they had enough fuel to keep them up in the sky. Of course, Calder had no idea how much Zan had left.

‘You know, it’s a terrible day when you realize your daughter’s a monster,’ Cornelius said.

‘Don’t blame yourself,’ Calder said. Cornelius might not have been the perfect father, but he hadn’t deserved what his daughter had visited on him.

‘She had me completely fooled,’ Cornelius said bitterly. ‘I thought she loathed apartheid. I never realized she was manipulating me; they were manipulating me. And I thought all these years she was angry with me for not supporting the struggle.’

‘She was certainly angry,’ Calder said.

‘You know, I’m sure the Laagerbond did kill Hennie, despite what she says,’ Cornelius said. ‘They just didn’t tell her they’d done it because they knew she was so fond of him.’

‘Too many people have died, one way or another.’

‘I’m sorry about your sister, Alex. After all you have done for us.’

‘Don’t worry,’ Calder said through gritted teeth. ‘Zan will pay. I’ll make sure of that.’

‘I think she’s lost touch with reality,’ Cornelius said. ‘The way she was talking back there. The idea that I would go with her.’

‘You could have humoured her on that one.’

‘I didn’t think she was going to try to kill us!’

‘She’s desperate and she’s dangerous,’ said Calder. ‘At this stage I don’t think she cares who she kills.’

They continued northwards, passing over a river, the Olifants according to Calder’s map. The landscape beneath them changed, the trees became sparser and their trunks became thicker, squat baobabs. Between them were the black specks of game: elephant, antelope, wildebeest and the odd giraffe, recognizable even from that height.

Then Calder saw a shadow skimming the grass in the distance. Next to it was a white speck.

‘Lowveld Information, we have visual contact,’ he said.

‘Good,’ replied the controller. ‘She’s flying too low; Hoedspruit are losing radar coverage. She’ll reach the Zimbabwe border in ten minutes. There is a police helicopter on its way to intercept her, but it won’t make it before then.’

‘Can you get us clearance to enter Zimbabwean airspace?’ Calder asked.

‘I can try, but I don’t hold out much hope. Stand by.’

Minutes ticked by. The fuel gauges were low. The trouble with any light aircraft’s fuel tank is that there is no way of being sure exactly how much fuel is left in it. The gauges are only a rough indicator. The calculation is usually made by considering time flown and hourly rate of fuel consumption. But since Calder had no idea how long the Cessna had been in the air during its flight to Kupugani, that wasn’t a calculation he could do with any accuracy. He ran through some figures in his head. Assuming the aircraft was half full when they took off and assuming a high level of fuel consumption at maximum power for the flight so far, they might have a couple of hours’ flying time, give or take half an hour. They had been in the air for an hour and forty minutes.