Ivory Nation by Andy Maslen (free children's ebooks online txt) 📕

In three days’ time, if you will. Wednesday. Be here at ten hundred hours. Goodbye.’

Gabriel put the phone down.

‘That was easy,’ he said. ‘We need to buy a camera.’

Eli slotted the bolt home in the rifle and laid it on the bed beside her.

‘Come on then, “Alec”,’ she said, getting to her feet. ‘Bags I drive this time.’

The manager of Hi-Tek Electronics began apologising as soon as Gabriel and Eli entered her shop. A slender lady in her late forties, with a sharp gaze behind lemon-yellow glasses, she was immaculately dressed in a pale-grey skirt and white blouse, a string of scarlet beads at her throat.

‘Welcome, Sir, Madam. The air conditioning just broke down. Sorry for the heat.’

‘It’s fine, really,’ Eli said with a smile.

‘How can I help you today?’

They emerged thirty minutes later with a brand-new Canon digital SLR in a white carrier bag emblazoned with the shop’s logo.

Eli laughed.

‘I thought she was never going to let us go!’

‘She was just proud of her shop,’ Gabriel said.

‘I must have looked at ten cameras.’

‘You have to admit, she was a good saleswoman.’

‘Good? She was brilliant. I hope our benefactor doesn’t blink when he sees the receipt.’

‘From what I saw of him, he’d probably find the money down the back of his sofa.’

18

Waiting for the Met Police detective, Gabriel and Eli stood side by side next to the ivory elephant. The arrivals hall vibrated to the mingled sounds of joyous family reunions, excitable children and executives competing with each other to dominate their conversations.

‘There she is,’ Eli said, pointing to a lone white woman dragging a wheeled suitcase across the polished granite floor. ‘Stella!’

Stella turned towards the sound and grinned when she saw Eli, who was striding through the crowds to meet her. Gabriel followed in her wake, eyes flicking left and right, alert to threats.

The two women shook hands, then Eli enveloped Stella in a hug. Stella turned to Gabriel.

‘What’s it to be, a hug or a handshake?’

Gabriel opted for a hug, marvelling, not for the first time at how many badass women he’d met in his life.

We need to get together, Sis. Soon.

‘You’re going to love the hotel,’ Eli said, as she led the trio to the carpark and the Mercedes they’d rented that morning. ‘Fantastic pool, excellent restaurant. And a couple of really cute staff members.’

‘Hey!’ Gabriel said, eyes wide in mock-outrage.

‘Almost as cute as Gabe,’ Eli added, winking at Stella.

‘I can’t wait,’ Stella said, grinning at Eli.

Once they arrived at the hotel, they agreed to let Stella check in and get herself unpacked, then meet at the pool bar for a beer at midday.

Under a rush-roofed cabana, Gabriel, Eli and Stella sipped from bottles of ice-cold St Louis Export lager, the pride of Gaborone’s Kgalagadi Breweries.

Stella frowned, and swiped a hand across her face.

‘Are you all right?’ Eli asked.

‘Just a little jet-lagged. So,’ she said brightly, ‘what’s the plan?’

‘What’s your plan?’ Gabriel asked. ‘Don told us you were out here following up a lead on Princess Alexandra’s killer.’

‘We found a soil trace and an insect mouthpart in the sniper nest. Believe it or not, our forensics guys narrowed it down to here. I’m thinking an Israeli physics teacher would have stood out as much in Gaborone as we do. Somebody might have seen him meeting someone, because one thing I can tell you, he wasn’t acting alone. Someone paid him to do it.’

‘Or forced him,’ Eli said.

‘Or forced him,’ Stella agreed.

‘I just can’t see it,’ Eli said. She spread her hands wide. ‘I mean, even if he was a Mossad agent, why? I mean, what possible reason could the Mossad have for assassinating a member of the British royal family? It doesn’t make any sense.’

‘She’d recently given a speech at an event backed by Hezbollah,’ Stella said. ‘The Palace put out a press statement saying she hadn’t been aware of the connection and was speaking on humanitarian issues, but it was widely reported as a pro-Palestinian speech.’

Eli snorted.

‘Listen, Stella, if the Mossad went around killing every prominent Brit who spoke out in favour of the Palestinians, there’d be piles of corpses in the House of Commons, the media and half the bloody academic world from London to Edinburgh.’

‘Eli’s got a point, Stella,’ Gabriel said. ‘The Mossad go for hard targets. Like we do. Terrorists, gun runners, people financing terror, organisational leadership.’

‘Then give me a motive. Why did Dov Lieberman travel from Israel to London, via Botswana, in order to assassinate a princess?’

‘I don’t know. But I’m going to find out. I know some people who’ll be more than willing to help.’

‘Thanks,’ Stella said. ‘I was hoping you’d say something like that.’

‘You can help us out in return,’ Gabriel said.

‘Sure. How?’

‘We’re going out to the place where the Paras were murdered tomorrow morning. Having a detective along would be really useful.’

They met again in the hotel reception at 7.00 p.m. Beyond the glass doors the hotel’s lights shone out into the darkness, illuminating a few acacias on the far side of the road.

‘Where shall we go to eat?’ Gabriel asked.

‘I’d really like to go somewhere the locals go,’ Stella said. ‘I hate the stuff these hotels serve up. Chicken Kiev, burgers, Caesar salad. You could be anywhere in the world.’

Eli smiled at Stella.

‘I agree. Let’s go and find that barbecue place Phefo mentioned. What was it called?’

‘Koko Loko,’ Gabriel said.

‘How far is it?’

Gabriel checked the distance on his phone.

‘Mile and a half.’

‘Walk or drive?’

‘Let’s walk,’ Stella said. ‘I love getting a feel of a place.’

Koko Loko occupied a corner site in a busy part of town. The restaurant’s fascia blazed across the street, a backlit riot of orange, green and yellow plastic lettering.

From as far as fifty metres away, Gabriel could smell the smoky, spicy aroma of grilling chicken wafting from its wide-open front door. The sound of laughter and good-natured shouting between tables drifted over, along with the cooking smells.

A sound system set up outside behind the rickety aluminium tables blasted out an infectious, melodic music: