Deon Meyer - Blood Safari

‘What are you going to do?’ Still that manic tone.

‘I’m going to tie you up, Jacobus, because you have more tricks than a monkey. And then we’re going to talk. That’s all. If our discussion goes well, I’ll let you go and I’ll leave and I won’t breathe a word about you to anyone. But if you don’t cooperate, I’m taking you to the police. It’s your choice.’

He didn’t reply. He just lay there gasping.

Septimus came out very warily. He had a length of electric cord which he carried in front of him with outstretched arms like a peace offering.

‘Bring it to me, Septimus, and go and lie down on your stomach again with your arms behind your back.’

He did as I commanded with great obedience and concentration. I waited until he was lying down, picked up the cord with my left hand and pushed the Glock into my belt.

That was what Cobie was waiting for. He moved suddenly, trying to roll away and hit at me in one movement. I was expecting it. My patience with him had run out. I grabbed his hand, twisted it behind his back and pushed his wrist up towards his neck, expecting to hear the pop of his shoulder dislocating. He was tough, but not tough enough to ignore the awful pain. He went limp.

‘Mad and stupid is a bad combination, Jacobus,’ I said as I thumped both my knees into his back with my full weight behind them. I heard the wind explode out of him again, grabbed one hand, forced it against the other, reached for the cord and began tying up his wrists. I got off him only when I was dead sure that his hands wouldn’t come loose.

‘Seppie, I need more cord.’

‘I haven’t got any more,’ he said in a small voice.

‘What have you got?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Go and look in Cobie’s house.’

‘OK.’

‘And hurry up, Septimus, or I will shoot Cobie. First in the left leg, and then in the right.’

‘OK.’ He sprang up and ran to the cottage with the yellow curtains, jerked open the door and switched on the light. He came back with an electric cord still attached to a bedside lamp.

‘Break the lamp off, Seppie.’

He did that.

‘Now, lie down.’

He knew the position well enough. I took my knees off Cobie, took the new cord, sat on Septimus and began to tie his wrists.

Cobie de Villiers jumped up.

‘Jacobus!’ I shouted to no avail. He ran away down the hill with his arms behind his back.

‘I’ll shoot your friend, Cobie.’ It didn’t seem to be much of a friendship, because Cobie disappeared into the dark.

‘Fuck,’ I screamed in frustration. What now? First, I had to immobilise Septimus. I worked quickly, winding the cord around Squinty Sep’s ankles and making a hasty knot. ‘Don’t do anything stupid,’ I told him. Then I kicked him lightly in the ribs, pulled the Glock from my belt and set off after Cobie.

What was driving the man?

39

The dark gave him the advantage. He knew the terrain, too. Luckily a man with his hands bound doesn’t have good balance.

I couldn’t see him, but I heard him fall somewhere to the right, a hundred metres or more away. Branches cracked, I heard a dull thud and I ran in the direction of the noise.

If he lay still, he had a chance, but Cobie was bent on getting away. When he staggered upright, I heard his footsteps and saw him as a dark shape against the grey of the long grass, crouched over and stumbling. I set after him and caught up. With every breath he made a noise of desperation. I tackled him from behind and he crashed down. With no hands to break the fall his face ploughed into the grass.

I jumped on him and sat on his back, stuck the Glock in his neck and hissed breathlessly, ‘Jissis , Jacobus, what the fuck is wrong with you?’

‘Shoot me.’ The hoarse whisper was almost inaudible, while he tried to jerk his body in a senseless attempt to get free.

‘What?’ I willed air back into my lungs.

‘Shoot me.’

‘You’re crazy.’

‘No.’

‘You are, Jacobus.’

‘Shoot me. Please.’

‘Why?’

‘It’s better.’

‘Why better?’

‘For everyone.’

‘Why?’

‘Because.’

‘Wrong answer. I’m not going to sit here and shoot the breeze with you, Jacobus. We have to see how Septimus is.’ I got up, but I kept hold of his wrists where the cord was tied. ‘Come.’ I dragged him up, keeping his arms high enough so it hurt if he didn’t cooperate.

‘Shoot me.’ A scream in the night, demonic and full of fear, and he jerked again, ignoring the pain he must have felt in his shoulders. That’s when I realised that my plan wasn’t going to work and I hit him as hard as I could on the head with the Glock.

At last the Honey Badger sank to the ground, out like a light.

I carried Cobie de Villiers over my shoulder to where Septimus meekly lay, just in time to see the light of a vehicle coming up the road from the gate.

‘Who’s that?’ I asked Seppie while I laid Cobie down next to him.

‘I think it’s Stef.’

My troubles multiplied. I could handle these two clowns. But one more?

It was the same Toyota pick-up that Stef Moller and Donnie Branca had been driving earlier. The tyres crunched over the gravelled yard and he stopped in front of the homestead and got out. He would see the lights at the labourer’s cottages. The question was, what would he do about it?

I felt the fatigue rising through my body. Long day. Long night. I knelt beside Cobie and shoved the barrel against his neck.

‘Cobie?’ Moller’s voice in the dark. I heard footsteps approaching over the gravel. Then I saw him on the edge of the beam of light. He had nothing in his hands.

‘No, Stef. It’s Lemmer.’

He saw us and stopped.

‘Come, Stef, come and sit with us.’

He hesitated, looking very concerned. His eyes blinked frantically.

‘What have you done?’ He came closer.

‘His lights are out, but only for the time being. Come and sit down, Stef, so we can talk about your lies.’

He sat beside Jacobus and stretched a trembling hand out to the still figure.

‘I didn’t have a choice,’ he said, and softly stroked Cobie’s hair.

‘You lied.’

‘I promised him. I gave him my word.’

‘He’s a murderer, Stef.’

‘He’s like a son to me. And …’

‘What?’

‘Something happened to him.’

‘What?’

‘I don’t know, but it must have been terrible.’

‘How do you know?’

‘I know.’

Cobie stirred. He tried to turn over, but with his hands tied it was a struggle.

‘Easy, Cobie,’ Moller soothed him.

‘He’ll have to talk, Stef. He’s the one with the answers.’

‘He won’t talk.’

Cobie de Villiers moaned and tried to roll over. His eyes opened and he saw Stef Moller.

‘I’m here, Cobie.’

Cobie saw me. He jerked. Moller held a firm hand on Jacobus’s shoulder. ‘No, Cobie, don’t. He won’t do you any harm.’

Cobie didn’t believe him. His eyes flicked between us, well on his way to madness again.

‘Easy, Cobie, easy. I’m here; you’re safe. Easy now.’

I could see Moller had done this before, the soothing, coaxing him back from the abyss. Cobie stared at Stef, then he seemed to believe him, because he sighed deeply and his body relaxed. I caught a glimpse of their history, their relationship. Also of Moller as a person. It commanded respect, but it didn’t help me. Behind a locked door in Cobie de Villiers’ head there was information that I needed. Moller held the key, if there was a key.

Squint Seppie was quiet, following events with one eye.

‘Stef, let me explain my problem,’ I said in a conversational tone, like a parent that didn’t want to upset a child, my words intended for Cobie’s ears. ‘I am looking for the people that hurt Emma le Roux. That’s all. I’m going to hunt them down and make them pay. I’m not interested in what Cobie or anyone else has done. I don’t want to involve the police. To be honest, I can’t afford to. All I want is a name. Or a place where I can find Emma’s attackers. Just that. Then I will leave. You will never hear from me again. I will tell no one what happened. That’s the promise I am making.’