Deadly Harvest A Detective Kubu Mystery - By Michael Stanley Page 0,29

for his appointment, but his uncle’s personal assistant showed him in immediately. Tebogo was behind his desk working but rose at once and accepted and reciprocated Joshua’s respectful greeting. But there was a touch of reservation in his welcome; too many favors had been requested and granted for Tebogo to be really warm. He was fond of his late brother’s ambitious son, but he was uncomfortable with their relationship within the police. At least Joshua was competent, although not brilliant. Tebogo wondered what had brought him to his office this time.

Joshua closed the office door and chose a chair while Tebogo returned to his seat behind the desk.

“How are you, Uncle?” The voice seemed to indicate real concern. Tebogo frowned. His mind went back to his last visit to the doctors and their useless advice.

“As well as can be expected. They say the emphysema is getting worse. That I must cut out smoking.” He shrugged to indicate his reaction to that proposal. “I’ve cut down. And I have some herbal medicines from a man I know who is a great healer. I’m sure that will help.”

“Are you looking forward to your retirement?”

Tebogo smiled. Of course, this was his nephew’s interest. “I’m not sure. Maria says I mustn’t get in her way at home!” They both laughed.

“I was wondering—” Joshua began, but Tebogo interrupted.

“If I’ve spoken to the commissioner about my successor?”

“Well, yes.”

Tebogo nodded. “He was receptive to the idea of considering you. He has some other possibilities, of course.”

“The grapevine says he favors Jacob Mabaku.”

Tebogo hesitated. Joshua was well informed. Indeed, the CID director was probably the front-runner. At last Tebogo said, “He’s made no decision as yet.”

Joshua, too, hesitated. “It’s too uncertain,” he said at last. “I think we must explore other ways.”

“Other ways?” Tebogo frowned, unhappy with Joshua’s use of “we.”

Joshua leaned back and folded his arms. “Uncle, you’re a man of the world, and a very successful one.” He leaned forward. “All entirely on merit of course. No fair person would suggest otherwise. But in rising so high, you must have protected yourself from other men. Men intent on bringing you down and replacing you. Men who used improper ways of advancing their own ends.”

Tebogo said nothing, wondering how much his nephew knew and where this was going.

“Mabaku now. He’s a decent detective, good administrator. But vision, leadership?” Joshua shook his head. “How do you think he came to the commissioner’s notice? By solving a murder here or there? There has to be more to it than that.”

“More to it?” Tebogo tried to sound puzzled.

“Of course. He’s had help. Like you’ve had help with your lungs. I’m sure you’ll have a long, healthy retirement, Uncle. Maria is sure of it.” So that’s it, Tebogo thought. He’s been talking to my wife. Nothing stops the wagging of her tongue.

“What are you asking?”

“I just want to meet the person you use, Uncle. The one who gives you the ‘herbal’ medicine. So that I can also have some help. Help to ward off what the other candidates are doing. Just so the commissioner can see clearly that your recommendation is the best one.” Joshua nodded slowly. “That I’m the best person to succeed you as deputy commissioner. On merit.”

So, thought Tebogo. This is the price. In addition to all the pula these witch doctors and healers have sucked from me, I am now sending my brother’s son into their clutches—the brother who would never forgive me if he knew. His skin crawled, and his heart sank.

“I’ll see if it is possible. I don’t know. He can be busy. Or difficult. And expensive. Very expensive.”

Joshua nodded again. He had what he wanted. He thanked his uncle and rose to take his leave.

JOSHUA PULLED HIS BMW 323i up on the shoulder of the dirt track and switched on his interior light to check his uncle’s directions. He was in the middle of a poor area, houses little better than shacks dotted over a few acres of stony dust. It wasn’t the kind of place he expected to meet a powerful witch doctor. But the hand-drawn map was quite specific, showing the shack on the corner of the track he was on and the one intersecting from the right. He reversed slightly so that his headlights picked out the building. There was no sign of life, and no car was visible. He switched off the headlights and the engine and waited. He’d been told to wait until he saw a light come on