Mackenzie Ford - The Clouds Beneath the Sun

Despite Sandys’s warnings, and his attempts at reassurance, Hilary Hall had got under her skin. His insinuations about her sexual behavior had made her seem loose, easy prey, the center of a swamp of passions in Kihara, which was just so far from the truth as to be comical if it wasn’t so hurtful and damaging. And that her father should have been there to be exposed to it all …

Not the least of her anguish arose from the fact that she had lied in court, had perjured herself. It was the first big lie she had ever told and it sat uneasily—very uneasily—with her. Part of her, she realized, was still very naive. Some people, she supposed, told lies of that magnitude every day of their lives, other people thought nothing of lying in court. But not her. It had been a lie she had to tell but it had exacted a price. It was one of the reasons she was drained and exhausted.

And she had fallen fast asleep, dropping off immediately.

The shouting grew louder but she couldn’t make out what was being said.

She got up and moved to the window. Her room was at the back of the hotel and looked out on to a small square with straggly trees, and at the far side a wide avenue stretched south, towards the sun. Two blocks further on she could make out a parade, placards, people dancing, shouting, singing. She still couldn’t hear what the noise was all about. Were they celebrating the independence conference in far-off London? Had something happened that she didn’t know about?

There was a rap on the door to her room. “Natalie! Natalie, open up!”

She looked at her watch, twenty to three. Too early for Jack and in any case it wasn’t Jack’s voice.

She opened the door and then stood back as Max, Eleanor, Daniel, and her father streamed in.

“What—? What’s happened? Why aren’t you in court?”

“The trial’s over. Tudor dismissed the charges.” Max undid his tie, a first. “He agreed with Hilary Hall, there’s no case to answer.” Sandys took his tie and stuffed it into his pocket. He shook his head. “Can you believe it? All the evidence the prosecution tendered, he said, was circumstantial. Ndekei never got a chance to mount his defense, to admit he killed Sutton; instead he’s been freed.” Sandys went to the window of her room. “That’s the shouting you can hear—he’s being carried on high through the streets, like a victorious warrior returning home.”

Natalie stared at the others one by one. “So … so, all the preparation, all the unpleasantness, all the threats from Richard Sutton Senior, all the energy and worry and sleepless nights … have been for nothing?” She slumped on to the bed. “How could that happen?”

Sandys wearily rubbed his hand over his face. “I don’t know. It’s a very, very strict interpretation of the law. Our evidence was circumstantial, in that, had someone wanted to impersonate Ndekei, and done so, the evidence would have been much as we presented it. But we all knew, or thought that we knew, that Ndekei would admit the killing and claim Maasai custom as his defense. And we took our eye off the ball. Ndekei, Marongo, and maybe Tshone—Hall’s Maasai assistant—tricked us to do less work, less research, than we should have done. The trial didn’t get that far. Tudor has been different lately but not that different. Today, however, I must say, he has interpreted the law strictly but, I am afraid, not incorrectly.”

Natalie felt as if she had been punched in the stomach. She was breathing heavily, and sweating. She leaned over and took a glass of water by the side of the bed. She looked at Max. “After I left the court, Richard Sutton came up to me and asked if I’d really had sex with his son. He hoped I had, he said, because Richard Junior had confessed to being a homosexual.”

Max stared back at her. “So maybe there was more to the murder than tribal custom …” He shook his head. “We’ll never know.”

Natalie rubbed her eyes with her hands. “What happens now? How has Marongo reacted?”

“We don’t know,” replied Eleanor, also taking a glass of water from the side of Natalie’s bed. “It’s too early, though I don’t expect he’ll wait long until he begins to make political capital out of this.” She turned to Natalie’s father. “Why don’t you go and pack, Owen, and check out of the hotel? Be ready to fly to the gorge this afternoon. Christopher’s staying on in Nairobi, so there’ll be room in Jack’s plane for you.”

Owen nodded and made to leave the room. As he went through the doorway, however, he almost collided with Jack.

“I heard what happened,” he said, coming over to Natalie. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. Shocked but fine.” She nodded and gave him a weak smile.

“A change of plan, Jack,” said Eleanor briskly. “We’re all flying back to the gorge this afternoon, now. Owen Nelson will take Christopher’s place.”

“Two changes of plan,” said Jack. “I’ve got to go back to this committee meeting. The news out of London is more interesting than we thought, but complicated. They started with education and science, so this committee I’m on has to consider the Kenya response to the British proposals. It may even affect us in paleontology—I’ll give you the details in the gorge when I know more. But it means I have to stay.” He turned. “Max, can you take my place and fly my mother and the others to the gorge? The trial’s ended early, so you can’t have a lot planned. You can fly yourself back tomorrow.”

Max looked flustered. “Well, yes, I suppose I can. It’s important to get Natalie out of Nairobi. The demonstrators might turn on the hotel if they find out where she is.”

“Good, that’s settled then.” Jack handed Max some keys. “All the instruments are working fine, Christopher has a lesson at the airport and will have filled the tanks.” He turned to Natalie. “Max flies higher than me, don’t forget, so your father won’t get much of a view this time. But you’ll get to the gorge quicker.”

“How long will your committee last?” Eleanor finished her water. “Perhaps we should wait?”

“No, no.” Jack shook his head. “It could go on for hours—the conference in London has turned a touch acrimonious, there are a lot of demonstrations, and we have a lot to get through. You need to get to Kihara well before dark—go with Max.”

He ushered them out of Natalie’s room. “You’ll all have to check out, and that will take time, so get moving. Max, is your car handy?”

“Right outside. We can stop off at my house on the way to the airport, and I can pick up one or two bits and pieces.”

Natalie was emptying the one drawer in her room, where she had placed some underwear. She looked at Jack as he came back in. “Shall I stay here with you? In Nairobi, I mean?”

He shook his head.

“Don’t you want me to stay?” She smiled and touched his cheek with her fingers.

“You heard what Max said, it’s best for you to leave. And there would be no point, anyway—the committee might go on and on, late. And the British proposals are interesting, a real chance for us all to have an effect on the future.” He kissed her cheek. “You and I will have all the time in the world in the gorge, now the ordeal is over. At least we will until Marongo does his worst.”

He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. “In any case, I want you to have a clear head tonight, so you can make up your mind, one way or the other, about the big question I asked you the other day. Now is the time to bite the bullet, Dr. Nelson. Has Marongo and his brand of politics put you off Africa forever, or …?” He smiled. “Or …?” He raised his own hand. “Don’t tell me now. Tell me tomorrow.” He turned to the door, but swiveled back. “You must get to the airport as soon as possible, but I’ll have time tomorrow morning to buy some whiskey. You must need it after what you’ve been through.”