Deadly Harvest A Detective Kubu Mystery - By Michael Stanley Page 0,15
road Tombi would have used to walk home. There was no sign of her. No sign of anything. Even though it was late, he banged on the doors of several houses. Nobody had seen her.
“Don’t worry. She’ll be back,” they all said. “Our kids often stay out with friends.”
“She’s not like that,” he snapped. “She’s a good girl.”
When Witness eventually returned home, any remaining hope was dashed. Tombi was still not back. He took a beer from the fridge and sat down at the kitchen table. What could he do? He popped open the can and drained it without taking it from his lips. He liked the cold fizzing as the liquid slipped down his throat almost as much as he liked the taste. He grabbed another.
It was too late to go and search the neighborhood. But he couldn’t just sit and do nothing. What could he do?
He drained the second can.
I’ll organize a search party in the morning, he decided. Get all my friends to help. He decided he’d better call them right away even though it was late; otherwise he might miss them in the morning.
He started with the parents of Tombi’s friends.
“I’m sorry to call so late. But Tombi still isn’t back. I need help looking in the fields along the road. Anywhere she may have walked. Can you meet me at the school at eight tomorrow morning? Please come and help. And bring as many other people as you can. And long sticks to poke under bushes. Please help me.”
Then he called all his friends and acquaintances and even some of his colleagues at work. Most said they would come.
When he finished calling, he collapsed on the sofa with another beer. How was he going to get through the night? He’d never sleep.
He put his head in his hands. His body shook, and tears dripped from his eyes. He was desperately afraid.
SEVEN
WITNESS TOSSED AND TURNED all night. His mind played out the worst of scenarios, and the pain in his belly intensified. When the first streaks of light crept through the torn curtains, he climbed out of bed and pulled on his clothes. It was time to renew his search for Tombi.
He had nearly two hours before meeting his helpers at the school. In the meantime he’d go out on his own. He made himself a cup of strong tea, added milk and lots of sugar, and cut himself a thick slice of bread.
He was terrified. Over the past few years, several young girls had disappeared without a trace. Some said the girls were kidnapped for sex, but most whispered that it was for muti. Witness shuddered. The thought of his little girl being cut up . . . He cried out in anguish. What sort of man could do that to an innocent girl?
And what would he do if he lost her? What had he done to deserve this? First his wife, and now his beautiful daughter.
“No!” he shouted. “No, no!” He wasn’t going to give up. He was going to find her.
WITNESS WALKED TOMBI’S LIKELY route to the school. He looked for any hint of what had happened, but to no avail. The sandy shoulder had many tire tracks and many more footprints. There was no way he could know which were Tombi’s—if, in fact, she had been there. Then he walked back on the other side of the road with the same futile results.
When he reached his house, he called the police station to ask if they had any information.
“No, rra,” was the reply. “But I’ll send a constable over this afternoon to take a detailed statement. As we told you last night, we’ll only start searching tomorrow if we have enough men. It will probably have to wait until Monday.”
“But she may be dead by then!” he shouted. “You need to start looking today!”
“Sorry, rra. That’s impossible. I suggest you phone the hospitals in case she’s had an accident that hasn’t been reported to us. Goodbye, rra.” The line went dead.
Witness felt like throwing his phone at the wall.
He still had nearly an hour before the search party was going to gather at the school, so he decided to drive to the Princess Marina Hospital. The nurse at Admissions checked the records, but no one matching Tombi’s description had been admitted. She suggested that he call the two private hospitals in Gaborone and gave him their numbers. He called both, but neither had any information.