Ivory Ghosts by Caitlin O'Connell Read Free Book Online

smiled.
    Remembering Baggs’s recommendation, I turned around and smiled. “What qualifies it as a ‘lady’s’ rump?”
    “Eight ounces instead of twelve. Excellent quality here in the Caprivi.”
    “Thanks, I just might stop by,” I said, knowing that would be the last thing I’d want to do over the weekend. But given my one opportunity to call Craig, I knew I’d make an appearance there eventually—maybe after my reconnaissance flight first thing in the morning, since there wasn’t anything urgent I could report from the crime scene, other than what Gidean had told me about the witch doctor’s potential involvement. That and the fact that I may have some samples for genetic analysis, pending Baggs’s approval.
    Outside, across the small sandy mall parking lot, was a giant, almost empty warehouse called the Dollar Store. As I entered I was greeted by what looked like several generations of a Chinese family. They were busily stacking shelves with merchandise of all kinds.
    Plastic trinkets of dubious quality lined the vast shelving. Craig had told me that Chinese merchants were sprouting up successful businesses everywhere you turned in Africa and asked me to keep an eye on the Dollar Store shop owner. Although clearly profiling, Craig told me that the Namibian Major Crimes Directorate, or what he called the MCD, were suspicious of all Chinese shop owners and exporters, but they didn’t have any evidence of ivory smuggling to act on yet.
    After poking around the rather uninteresting aisles, I decided I wasn’t likely to stumble upon anything of note at that moment. I needed to get to the hardware store for a bag of nails so I could hang things in my barracks. Nothing fancy like expanding screws or hooks, given the condition of the walls. Nails would be enough to hang my mugs to deter the cockroaches and keep my wet towel off the floor.
    As I prepared to leave, I couldn’t help noticing Alvares standing at the back of the store talking to a Chinese man next to a door marked “Manager’s Office.” My eye was drawn to the heated exchange. The Chinese man was shaking a finger at Alvares. They both appeared very angry, but the Chinese man seemed to have the upper hand.
    I casually sauntered down one of the side aisles, slowly approaching the office in the hope of catching the gist of their conversation. But just as I got close enough to hear, the two were interrupted by a worker. They went inside the office and closed the door. I ended up buying a straw hat and quickly leaving, heading to the hardware store.
    At the hardware store, a cheery salesman reported that nails had been on back order for over a month. He suggested checking back in two weeks, when the next delivery truck was scheduled to arrive from Johannesburg. I made do with some screw hooks, hoping the rotting vinyl-covered pressboard would tolerate the three turns on the hooks. If so, they would be better than nails anyway.
    When I left the building, I passed a lumberyard where a bustling assembly line was hard at work. The banging and clapping of nails into pine filled the air. I looked closer and got a chill when I realized that the assembly line was making coffins—many, many simple pine coffins of all sizes. Hence the run on nails. I couldn’t help wondering why so many coffins would be made all at once like this. Surely only one or a few coffins would be needed at any one time.
    I checked my watch as I got back into my car. It was still early enough to stop by the airport on the way back to the ranger station. I wanted to check out the WIA airplane that was supposed to have arrived that morning. I had flown plenty of Cessna 182s but I wanted to see what condition it was in. And I was eager to see the area from the air the following day. I didn’t like to fly a census without doing a reconnaissance first.

Chapter 6
    After an uneventful night and morning, I went to Mpacha airstrip and did a preflight inspection on the WIA Cessna. I walked