Deadly Harvest A Detective Kubu Mystery - By Michael Stanley Page 0,9
become president of Botswana. We have to take this seriously.”
Kubu nodded. “I’m going to follow up with Zanele once she’s had a chance to look through what they collected. And we’ll go door-to-door around the area to see if anyone saw anything. And the dog’s a mongrel. No hope of tracing it unless someone comes up with the rest of the body.”
“Well, keep on it.”
Kubu climbed to his feet, but Mabaku had a question on a different topic.
“Have you spent any time with Detective Khama? I suggested she chat with you to get some guidance.”
“Yes, actually I spoke to her this morning. She’s on the lost-girl case from Mochudi. A bit much for a novice, I’d say.”
“Maybe you can keep an eye on her. Mentor her a bit. Give her some tips.”
“I haven’t really got the time to mentor a new detective, and I’m not sure she’ll listen.”
Mabaku paused. “Is that how she came across? It can’t be easy for her settling in here as the only woman detective. She’s very persuasive and talked me into letting her take on that case, but I know some people wouldn’t mind seeing her in trouble with it. Give her a chance, Kubu.”
Kubu said he’d see what he could do. He hesitated and then turned to another matter.
“Mr. Director,” he said. “Is it true that Deputy Commissioner Gobey is retiring?”
Mabaku stared at him for a few moments. “Yes. As of the beginning of June, I’m told.”
“Will you be the new deputy commissioner?”
“It’s impossible to know what the commissioner will do. There’ll be others in the running, too. I’m not sure I really want the job, in any case.”
“You’re the best man for the job, Director. I’ll be very disappointed if you don’t get it. You deserve it.”
“Thank you, Kubu. If I get it, it may open an opportunity for you, too.”
Kubu looked at the sea of paperwork threatening to drown the director’s desk. “Thank you, Jacob, but I’m happy with my role as detective.”
Kubu checked his watch and left in a hurry. It was already a quarter to three.
AS HE DROVE, KUBU thought about Seloi, the young woman whose funeral he was about to attend. She was the older sister of one of Joy’s charges at the day-care center and hardly more than a child herself. They were orphans; their parents had already succumbed to the same killer. Kubu fumed. How had this been allowed to happen? Why had Seloi not been on a stable regimen of antiretroviral drugs? Why had she been allowed to waste away before their eyes? What crack had opened in Botswana society for these unfortunate people to fall through? Now Seloi’s little sister Nono—also HIV positive from birth—had lost the last of her family and was alone in a frightening world.
Joy and Tumi were waiting when Kubu arrived. He kissed Joy, and picked up Tumi to receive a big kiss and a huge hug around his neck. This, Joy would say with amusement, was the only part of Kubu’s anatomy that the three-year-old could reach around. Kubu would just laugh.
Once Tumi was settled in the car seat, they headed to the cemetery. The traditional and religious parts of the funeral had already taken place; only the actual burial remained.
“What did you do today, Daddy?”
“I was at work, darling.” Kubu didn’t think Tumi would want to hear about a severed dog’s head.
There was a moment of silence, and Joy took her opportunity.
“Did you think about what we discussed, Kubu? About Nono? There’s no one to look after her, now her sister’s dead. She’s with a distant relative now, but they don’t want her. They’re very poor, and there’s no room, and they can’t afford another mouth to feed. They say she has to leave.”
“I didn’t have much time today, darling, with all the fuss about Marumo.” He hesitated. “The social services—”
“Will just dump her somewhere. She’ll lose her friends and the people at day care—the only people who still care about her. That’s all she has left, Kubu. She’s only four. If we can just look after her for a few weeks, a month at the most, we can find her a proper home. And Tumi loves her.”
“Please, Daddy. Please can Nono visit us for a while?”
So Joy had enlisted Tumi in this plan, too. Well, he couldn’t deny that the child desperately needed help, and who else could she turn to?
“I suppose we could do that,” he said at last. Joy leaned over and hugged him, and Tumi