Free Frederick Ramsay_Botswana Mystery 02 by Reapers

in that mess. That’s got to mean something to somebody if they tumble to us.”
    “Park off, Harvey, you worry too much.”
    “Okay, let’s say we get under the Russian mob’s radar or maybe they aren’t coming or don’t care, like you said. How can we be sure we can deliver it? I mean we dump it in the…what? The park, the river? Then, what if the stuff disappears?”
    “Easy-peasy, Jack. All we need to do is keep track of where we drop it, and it won’t be the river.”
    “How? It’s a hell of a big jungle out there.”
    “Not a jungle, it’s called the bush. See, we drop it here and there and then log in coordinates on a GPS tracking device. Our clients will buy a list of the locations, see? Maybe we don’t put all the locations on the same list. It’ll depend on who we round up to sell to. They get out their GPS things, tap in the coordinates, and go pick up the goods, and if they’re satisfied they return the thing and maybe buy another list. Maybe they buy the whole lot including the device. All sorts of possibilities here.”
    “And if they’re caught?”
    “If they are caught…well, we still have the locations on the master and can look for another client. Got it? And don’t forget, they can pick them up at their leisure. The officials have no reason to stop them, they’re all local. And if there are too many coppers in the field, they just wait for another day. I tell you, it’s brill.”
    “And what’s to keep someone else from coming along and picking them up or moving them?”
    “Lions, crocodiles, hyenas, leopards, you name it. Who’s going to risk wandering around the Chobe National Game Park? The only people in there, besides our mob, will be ­tourists with cameras on game drives and what are they told never to do? Never leave your vehicle.”
    “But they might.”
    “They might. To take a picture maybe. But it’s against the law to even pick up a feather or a bone, maybe even a pretty rock, so who’s going to go for this ugly shite? No way.”
    “I hope you’re right.”
    “Bloody cupcake is what this is, Jack.”
    ***
    Modise listened to Sanderson’s explanation of what had happened at the murder scene. She was careful to not be critical of Superintendent Mwambe’s apparent intention to keep it a suicide if he could. Modise said he would look into that end, and she shouldn’t worry herself over it. The business of the fence opening bothered him though.
    “The only reason anyone would create such an opening is to avoid being recorded in the park. It’s not as if the park was difficult to enter, or for that matter terribly expensive. Anyone who had any business in the area could arrange for passes, and all sorts of other quite legitimate means of gaining access. No, it is clear that the fence has been breached specifically to enable the wrong sort of persons into the park. The question is who?”
    “I am thinking you will need to determine why.” Sanderson said, and poured him a cup of tea. “Would you prefer coffee?”
    “Tea is fine, thank you, Sanderson. I think we are knowing why. People who wish to exchange contraband, smugglers, all sorts of things, they wish not to see the light of day.”
    “But why in the park. Wouldn’t it be easier to meet in an alley, a warehouse, somewhere easily gotten to?”
    “It would, but that would risk someone witnessing the exchange, possibly. Also, in the park there is a secondary level of security, you could say.”
    “I don’t understand.”
    “If you are situated in the game park you will be surrounded by the animals.”
    “Perhaps. It is a big park and there is much open space with no animals in it. They move about, you know.”
    “They do, I am sure. You would certainly know that, but do the men from the cities know it and even if they do, how will they know if this is an area where it is safe? As you say, the animals move about.”
    Sanderson wasn’t so sure but she let it go. Modise was right about one thing;