Page 63 of Lie for a Million

“You won’t need it. In fact, I don’t want you there, Charlie. I know that this hunt is staged. But I want it to be as real as possible. That means me against the elephant with no backup. I’m an old man. If I lose, I lose. There are worse ways to die.”

“I understand,” Charlie said. “But I can’t risk the bad press if a client get hurt—or worse.”

“This isn’t about bad press. I paid to hunt and kill that elephant. For twenty thousand dollars, I should be allowed to do it alone, without a damned babysitter.”

“All right. If you insist,” Charlie lied. He would keep his distance, but there was no way he’d allow Hubert to face a deadly animal without backup. “But you’d better be prepared to kill that beast with a single shot, or we’ll have a wounded elephant on our hands.”

Hubert didn’t appear to be listening. He was staring up toward the porch where Sam had just stepped into sight. “I didn’t know you had company,” he said.

Charlie shot Sam a look of pure hatred. “I believe my visitor was about to leave,” he said.

“Actually, I’ve changed my mind,” Sam said. “I’ve never seen one of your hunts, Charlie. I’m looking forward to some excitement.” He came down the steps and approached the client.

“Sam Rafferty,” he said, extending his hand.

With an awkward expression, the man accepted his handshake. “Hubert Greenway,” he said. “I wasn’t aware that we were going to have an audience.”

“Neither did Charlie. Don’t worry, I’ll stay out of the way. You won’t even know I’m here.” Sam could feel the hostility radiating from Charlie like heat from a blast furnace. But as he’d expected, Charlie wouldn’t make a scene in front of a paying client.

A gibbous moon, just rising in the east, cast its pale light over the landscape. Mounting the steps again, Sam stood at the railing and watched Charlie usher his guest toward the fire and offered him a camp chair. With the gun case laid open on a folding table, they removed and inspected the heavy-duty weapon. As they were loading the ammunition, Sam heard a sound from somewhere beyond the firelight—a sound that chilled his blood. Ringing through the darkness, it was the trumpeting cry of the doomed elephant.

The creature was probably chained somewhere out in the brush. When the man with the giant gun was ready, she would be released and prodded forward into the open. Sam could only hope the ending would be swift and merciful.

There was nothing he could do to save her. But if he got some clear photos and posted them where they’d be seen, maybe the poor old lady wouldn’t have lost her life for nothing.

Unsettled, perhaps, by the unearthly cry, Greenway dropped a high-powered shell into the dust at his feet. He scooped it up and, without cleaning it, crammed it into the breech. Hefting the weapon to his shoulder, he peered through the scope, which probably wouldn’t be needed. The elephant would be too close for that.

Greenway took his place. Charlie stood a dozen yards behind him with his own rifle. Sam recognized it as a 577 Nitro Express, the traditional gun used for big game hunting. Sam had heard Charlie tell his client that he wouldn’t be standing backup. Either he’d lied or changed his mind. Greenway appeared not to notice. To Sam, he appeared nervous as he braced for the elephant’s charge.

The risen moon hung above the horizon, lending enough light to see clearly now. Greenway chambered a shell in readiness. Charlie did the same, then took a flare pistol from his belt and fired a signal into the air.

The flare whined upward and burst against the dark sky. As the sparks fell and faded, the beaters in the brush began their clatter, pounding on drums and pans, shouting and chanting. The elephant’s scream shattered the night as the huge animal, driven by the beaters, crashed through the scrub.

Sam could make out the elephant now, a hulking shape lumbering through the brush, maybe fifty yards distant. Greenway raised his rifle, aimed carefully, and squeezed the trigger.

The gun didn’t fire.

From where he stood, Sam couldn’t hear the ominous click, but he could imagine the sound of it, followed by more clicks as Greenway pulled the trigger again and again. Shrieking a curse, he flung his rifle to the ground.

Charlie charged forward, the 577 Nitro Express raised to his shoulder. With a shout of “No!” Greenway snatched the rifle away from him and swung it into position. The elephant was less than forty yards away now, lumbering head-on, trumpeting in fury, or maybe fear, as Greenway aimed.

That was when the unthinkable happened. A dark, bulky shape barreled across the elephant’s path, followed by another, and another. Feral hogs, spooked by the commotion, were racing around in panic, grunting and squealing.

Startled and scared, the elephant bellowed, swung to the right, and charged off at an angle, moving away from the shooter The workmen tried to turn her with their pointed sticks, but they were clearly afraid of being trampled. Nothing was going to stop the giant animal from going her own way.

Greenway, who had Charlie’s 577 now, swung the weapon to follow her, but now he could aim only for her side and rear. Any bullet that hit her would only deliver a wound, driving her mad with pain and rendering her deadly dangerous. Still, it appeared that Greenway was determined to get his quarry.

Sam sprinted down the steps and launched himself into the melee of milling hogs and yelling men. If he could keep Greenway from shooting the elephant, there might be a chance of saving her. But he couldn’t get close enough, and even if he could, his Glock would be useless. He was helpless to stop what was happening. He could only watch with his heart in his throat.

Unarmed now, Charlie flung himself at his client. “Don’t shoot, you fool!” he shouted. “Give me the gun.”

But Greenway, like a man obsessed, was intent on finishing what he’d come to do. He swung the barrel hard, hitting Charlie with a blow that knocked him backward to sprawl in the dust. Charlie struggled to stand, but the fall had injured him. One leg buckled beneath him. He collapsed to his knees, blocking Greenway’s line of fire.

“Don’t shoot, Hubert!” Charlie yelled. “You don’t want to wound her! We can try again later!”

At the sound of that hated voice, the elephant stopped in her tracks. With a scream of rage, she swung back in Charlie’s direction. Her raised trunk gave Greenway the perfect target for a heart shot.

“For God’s sake, man, shoot!” Charlie was in her path, struggling to get to his feet.

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