Kahlenberg addressed himself to Gaye.
“Miss Desmond, although I live in considerable luxury, although I am an exceedingly busy man, there are times when I get very bored with myself. As you see, I am a cripple. I am chained to this chair. One of my ambitions when young was to be a hunter. Nothing would have given me more satisfaction than to go on safari. But being a cripple, this has been impossible and I admit to a certain frustration. Any form of frustration to a man of my power and wealth is intolerable.”
“What the hell is this?” Fennel demanded impatiently. “What are these conditions you are talking about?”
Kahlenberg ignored him.
“Here is the Borgia ring.” He picked up the glass box and handed it to Gaye. “I understand each of you will be paid nine thousand dollars when you hand the ring to Shalik.” He smiled bleakly. “You see, I have an excellent spy system. Nine thousand dollars to you is important money and naturally it will give you incentive to deliver the ring to Shalik.”
“You mean you are giving us the ring?” Fennel demanded.
“Miss Desmond already has it. I am now going to give you a further incentive… a much more important one… to deliver the ring to Shalik. But in spite of these two incentives, you still have to get the ring out of my estate.”
“So that’s it,” Fennel’s eyes narrowed. “Your savages are going to stop us… is that it?”
“If they can they will. I am going to arrange a hunt. You three and Mr. Jones who is waiting for you will be the hunted and my Zulus will be the hunters. You must regard it as exciting a game as I shall. You will have a reasonable chance to escape the hunters because I am going to give you a three hour start. You will leave here at 04.00 hrs. when it will be light enough for you to make good speed and you will need good speed. At 07.00 hrs. my Zulus will come after you. It will be entirely up to your speed and ingenuity to avoid them.”
“Are you serious?” Garry asked.
“Certainly I am very serious as you will discover should you be unfortunate enough to be captured.”
“Suppose we are captured? What happens?”
Kahlenberg inclined his head.
“A sensible question, Mr. Edwards. If you are captured, you will be cruelly put to death. My men are extremely primitive. In the days of Shaka, the famous Zulu chief, when he caught his enemies, he had them impaled. This is done by hammering a sharpened skewer into the lower intestine and leaving the victim to die slowly and in extreme agony.”
Garry’s face tightened.
“And your savages would do that to us if they caught us?” he asked.
“Yes, they would.”
There was a long pause, then Garry said, “So you are staging this hunt to pander to your perverted, sadistic frustration. Is that it?”
Kahlenberg’s face changed: from a courteous, mild spoken man he turned suddenly into a cruel, vicious looking lunatic.
“I am going to teach you not to trespass on my estate,” he said, leaning forward and glaring at Garry. “You have dared to come here with your ridiculous tale and now you will pay for it!” He gained control of himself and sat back, his mouth working and he remained motionless until his rage died down. “It is necessary to get rid of you all since you have seen my museum. It is essential that you don’t escape to talk.”
A little shaken to realize that his idea that Kahlenberg was mentally unbalanced was now confirmed, Garry said, “Then why give us the ring? Why not call your men in and kill us now?”
“The hunt will amuse me. You have the ring because if you do happen to escape, you deserve to keep it… but I assure you, it is unlikely you will escape.”
“Suppose we give you our word not to talk and leave the ring with you?” Garry said. “Would you allow us to use the helicopter and fly out?”
“No, and in case you are hoping to use your helicopter, I will tell you at once that it is under guard. Ten of my Zulus surround it and tomorrow early, one of my pilots will fly it back to the company you hired it from.” He pressed a button on his desk and a panel slid back on the opposite wall revealing a relief map of the estate and the house. “I will give you a reasonable chance and I would be disappointed if the hunt were over in a few hours. I would like it to last several days. So please look at the map and study it. You will see the exit from the east is blocked by a range of mountains. Unless you are all expert rock climbers, I wouldn’t advise you to go that way. I will warn you my Zulus think nothing of scrambling down the mountainside of these dangerous heights and they would quickly catch up with you. Nor would I recommend the exit to the south. As you can see from the map there is a river there, but what isn’t shown is that the approaches to the river is swamp land and infested by crocodiles and some of the most deadly snakes in Natal. The north exit is straightforward. That is the way you came in. However, twenty of my Zulus are always guarding that approach. You didn’t see them as you came in, Mr. Fennel, but they saw you and Mr. Jones and were continually reporting your progress. So I would advise you not to leave that way as although they let you in on my instructions, you may be sure they won’t let you out. So this leaves only the west. It is not easy, but possible. You will find no water there, but there is a good jungle track that leads finally to the main highway to Mainville. It is some hundred and twenty kilometres and you would need to hurry. A Zulu can easily keep pace with a fast moving horse, but you do have a three hour start.” Kahlenberg looked at his watch. “It is past my bed time. Please return to the guest suite and get a little rest. At 04.00 hrs. you will be released. Again I advise you to move as quickly as you can.” He pressed a button on his desk and the doors opened. The four waiting Zulus came in.
“Please go with these men,” Kahlenberg continued. “There is an old African saying which you will all do well to remember. It is that the vulture is a patient bird. Personally I would prefer a vulture to one of my Zulus. Good night.”
Back in the guest suite and when Fennel closed the door, Garry said, “He’s a pathological case. I had a feeling about him the moment I saw him. Do you think he’s bluffing about the Zulus?”
“No.” Gaye suppressed a shiver. “He is a sadistic pervert. That expression on his face when he let the mask drop! Let’s go now, Garry. They think the terrace doors are locked. We might gain seven hours if we leave at once.”
Garry went to the terrace doors and opened them. He paused, then stepped back, closing the doors.
“They are out there already… waiting.”
Gaye joined him and peered through the glass. She could see a half-circle of squatting Zulus, facing her: the moonlight glittered on their spears, their ostrich plumes moved in the slight breeze. Feeling frightened, she moved away from the doors and sat down.
“What are we going to do, Garry?”
“Are you any good on a mountain?” Garry asked, coming to sit by her side.
“I don’t think so… . I’ve never tried.”
“You can cut the mountains out,” Fennel said, wiping his face with the back of his arm. “I’ve no head for heights.”
“We’ll have to consult Ken. We have to start north to pick Themba up. Without him, we’re not going to get out.”
“That’s right,” Fennel said. “Ken says that the guy has a compass in his head. He’ll get us out.”
“Let’s have a drink.” Garry got to his feet and went over to the bar. “What will you have, Gaye?”
“Nothing at this hour.”
“Lew?”
“Scotch.”
As Garry mixed the drinks, he asked, “Has Ken got the Springfield with him?”
“No. We left it with Themba.”
“We could need it.”
“Yeah. We’ll pick up Ken, and then go straight to where we left Themba. He’s not only got the rifle, but extra water and most of the food. If we have to walk all the goddamn way, we could be at it for three or even four days.”