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Tell him to back off.”
    “Too late. This Robinson woman is writing an article – backing
off won’t help. I’ve changed my mind. You’ll have to go to Tsabong.
Tomorrow. Make sure that Lerako is on top of everything. That it’s
all upfront and transparent. Keep me informed.”
    But Kubu wasn’t going to leave it at that. He wanted Mabaku on
side. “Director, do you remember the Maauwe and Motswetla
case?”
    “Of course I remember it. It was a disaster for the whole
country. Going to trial without the two Bushmen having any idea of
what was going on. Outrageous. Convicted of a capital crime with no
adequate defence. Embarrassing. Made us look like racists.”
    Mabaku paused in his tirade. Kubu said nothing.
    “You think it could happen again?” Mabaku stared at Kubu.
    “I don’t know what to think, Director. Lerako is solid but
unimaginative. If he’s satisfied with the evidence he’s got, he
won’t look any further. But why would my friend Khumanego come to
me after all this time unless he was very concerned? Let me help
Lerako. You can remind him of the Maauwe and Motswetla case and say
you are making sure everything is in order. We can’t take the
chance of this blowing up in our faces.”
    Mabaku stood up and gazed out of the window at Kgale Hill, which
formed the backdrop to the Millennium Park office complex where the
CID was housed. None of its resident baboons was visible. Neither
man said anything for several minutes.
    “All right,” Mabaku said, pointing his finger at Kubu. “But it’s
still Lerako’s case. You are his backup, checking all the facts.
I’ll tell him that it’s nothing personal, but the government can’t
afford another scandal. I’ll make sure he knows he’s still in
charge.”
    “Thank you, Director. I should only be away a few days. None of
my cases here are so urgent they can’t wait.”
    Mabaku wagged his finger at Kubu. “Make sure you don’t stir
things up. Check back with me before you say or do anything that
runs against Lerako. And don’t talk to that reporter woman.”
    Kubu nodded and left with a mixture of emotions. He felt
Khumanego had let him down, and he knew Joy would be upset that
he’d be away. And Lerako was a tough man, hard to deal with. But
Kubu was intrigued. If the Bushmen were innocent – as Khumanego
averred – then who was behind the killing? Lerako wouldn’t have
missed obvious clues, so it was a puzzle. And Kubu loved
puzzles.

∨ The Death of the Mantis ∧
Five
    J oy had reacted very
badly to the news that Kubu would be away for several days, and the
atmosphere was still strained the next morning.
    Breakfast was rudimentary. Joy again had not slept well, and
Tumi was very demanding. Joy sat breastfeeding the infant as Kubu
helped himself to two bananas and a cup of tea. Joy accepted tea,
but didn’t want to eat. Kubu made himself four sandwiches; two were
savoury, with cold meat and mustard, two were sweet – for dessert –
with strawberry jam.
    He filled a thermos with water and ice, collected several cans
of ginger beer, packing it all in a cooler, and took his luggage to
the police pool car. He’d tested the air-conditioner the day
before, so he was confident he’d have a comfortable journey.
    Preparations finished, he went inside to say goodbye to Joy and
Tumi.
    “I have to go, dear,” he said brightly.
    Joy turned round, tears running down her face.
    “Darling, what’s wrong?” Kubu sat down next to her and put his
arm around her shoulders. Tumi sucked contentedly at her nipple.
Joy just shook her head.
    Kubu pulled her closer, but she resisted.
    “You’ve got to go,” she mumbled. “I’ll be all right.”
    “I’ll phone you every evening, and I’ll be back in no time at
all.”
    He leant over to kiss her, but she turned her head. Kubu was
gripped with uncertainty. He’d never felt so isolated from Joy. Not
once since he’d met her.
    “Go!” she said. “Drive carefully.”
    Kubu turned and walked out to