Free Death in Kenya by M. M. Kaye

upon mile of native shambas, bright against the red-ochre clay, and interspersed with plantations of eucalyptus. But Victoria had no eyes for the scenery. Even the sunlight had ceased to feel warm and gay, and she felt cold and a little sick. ‘A sighting shot…’
    She turned sharply to look at her companion, and spoke a little breathlessly: ‘Is it the end? Or——’
    She found that she could not finish the sentence, but Mr Stratton appeared to have no difficulty in translating her confused utterance. He said:
    â€˜I imagine it’s that thought that is getting Em down. Ever since it started it’s been a case of “What next?” Now I should say it’s “Who’s next?”’
    â€˜Eden!’ said Victoria in a whisper, unaware that she had spoken aloud.
    Drew gave her a cold glance and said curtly: ‘Why do you think that?’
    â€˜Who else would it be? Unless – unless it were Aunt Em herself.’
    â€˜Oh, I don’t know,’ said Drew with deliberate brutality. ‘Anyone she liked – or who was useful to her. Or to Flamingo. ’
    â€˜I don’t believe it!’ said Victoria suddenly and flatly. ‘Things like that don’t really happen. Not to real people.’
    â€˜They’ve happened this time,’ said Drew dryly.
    â€˜Oh, I don’t mean that Eden’s wife hasn’t been killed. That must be true. But the other things. There must be some quite ordinary explanation. After all, things get broken in everyone’s houses. And the dog might have picked up poison that was meant for rats – or, something.’
    â€˜Have it your own way,’ said Drew.
    â€˜But don’t you think it could have been that?’
    â€˜No, I don’t. I think someone was getting at your aunt. And very successfully, at that! This isn’t merely a question of getting rid of a settler. Even the Mau Mau dupes didn’t take long to drive up to the fact that if they killed one white settler another one – and not his Kikuyu servants! – would take over. If Em died tomorrow, and Eden the day after, another white settler would take over Flamingo. ’
    â€˜I should,’ said Victoria.
    Drew’s blond eyebrows twitched together in a sudden startled frown and he said slowly: ‘Yes, I suppose so. I’d forgotten that you’d be the next-of-kin. Well, there you are, you see. That’s why I don’t believe that this poltergeist business was aimed at frightening a large landowner into doing a scuttle. In any case, anyone who knew the least thing about Em would know it wouldn’t work; and whoever is at the back of this knows a great deal about her, and just how to hit her where it hurts most. Which is what makes me interested in this “General Africa” theory. The average African gets no pleasure out of just shooting an enemy. He prefers to kill him slowly, and watch him suffer.’
    It can’t be true! thought Victoria. And yet worse things had happened in this country; far worse things. And he was carrying a gun. He didn’t look the sort of person who would carry a gun without a good reason for doing so. She said abruptly: ‘What about the police? Surely they’ll be able to find out who did it?’
    â€˜Smashed Em’s bric-à-brac?’ enquired Drew.
    â€˜No. Who killed Mrs DeBrett. People don’t get away with murder!’
    â€˜You’d be surprised what they get away with in this country!’ said Drew cynically.
    â€˜But didn’t anyone hear anything? Surely she would have screamed?’
    â€˜I expect she did, poor girl. But as luck would have it your aunt was playing the piano, and so no one in the house would have heard her. I should never have left her.’
    â€˜You?’ said Victoria. ‘Were you there?’
    â€˜Yes,’ said Drew bitterly. ‘In fact I was the last person, bar the murderer, who saw her