Free The Last Leopard by Lauren St. John Page B

table. Martine took no notice. She waited until Sadie paused for breath and said, “Why are you being blackmailed?”
    Sadie’s fork paused on the way to her mouth. Her fingers lost coordination and she dropped it with a clatter.
    “Martine!” her grandmother said angrily. “Have you taken complete leave of your senses? What on earth are you talking about? Apologize to Sadie at once.”
    Sadie was staring at Martine. “What did you say?”
    “It is blackmail, isn’t it?” Martine demanded, risking her grandmother’s wrath. “Whose blood money don’t you want? Who are you trying to hold on to? Is it Ngwenya?”
    Gwyn Thomas jumped to her feet. “This is outrageous. I’ve heard more than enough. Martine, go to bed at once and we’ll talk about this in the morning. I’m so sorry, Sadie. I’ve no idea what’s got into her.”
    Sadie stopped her. “Sit down, Gwyn,” she ordered. “You too, Martine. You’ve done nothing wrong. Quite the reverse. Ever since I telephoned you at Sawubona and asked you to come here, I’ve been wracked with guilt. I felt I was deceiving you all by not telling you what you might be letting yourself in for. But I was desperate. When I broke my leg, I had no one else to turn to. No one else I trusted enough to ask, at any rate. Ngwenya has been wonderful, but he has a family to go home to at night. I guess I was afraid.”
    Gwyn Thomas seemed unsure whether to be curious or furious. “But who are you afraid of? Are there bandits around here? Poachers?”
    “No,” responded Sadie. “At least, yes, of course there are, but it’s not them that I’m afraid of. I’m not really afraid of anyone. I’m afraid for someone . . . Well, not someone as such . . .”
    Gwyn Thomas sat back in her chair. “Now I’m really confused.”
    Sadie sighed. “Let’s make some strong coffee,” she said. “I think I need to explain from the beginning.”

    It all started when Sadie’s father, Colonel Scott, agreed to rehabilitate a young leopard into the wild on Black Eagle land on behalf of a famous Bulawayo wildlife orphanage, Chipangali. The project was an instant success. The leopard, a male named Khan after the Indian doctor who’d found him as a week-old cub, orphaned by a bushfire, took to the Matobo Hills as if he’d been in the wilderness all his life.
    “You told us that you’d only seen him once,” Martine reminded Sadie. “It must have been more often than that if your father was rehabilitating him.”
    Sadie gave a small smile. “No, I was telling you the truth about that. I saw Khan the day he came to Black Eagle, but the following day I had to leave for South Africa for a hotel management course I was taking. When I returned, Khan had already made his home in the bush and was as elusive as any other leopard.
    “At the time of my father’s death a little over a year ago, our main feeling regarding the leopard was pride, I suppose. Animals belong in the wild, not behind bars like prisoners, and we were proud that we’d been able to give Khan his freedom. Our problems started when I began to get reports of his immense size from the few people who glimpsed him. Male leopards have a territory of up to twenty-three square miles. I’d hear tales of his magnificence from far and wide. Once he was grown, he no longer stayed exclusively on Black Eagle property.
    “Four months ago, I was approached by Rex Ratcliffe. He offered me several thousand dollars in foreign currency if I would sell him Khan for use in one of his ‘safaris.’ I was sure that he really wanted him for canned hunting, but in any case I said that Khan was not mine to sell. He was free and that was the way he was going to stay. I told Ratcliffe that if I ever caught him or any of his hunters near my land, I’d shoot him myself.”
    Martine was on the edge of her seat. “Go on,” she encouraged as Sadie stoked the fire with the tip of one of her crutches.
    “Khan was only ever seen in two areas—Black