The Treasures of Monomotapa (eBook)

An SA Police Series Suspense Story, Book 5

Gerrie Radlof, Pieter Haasbroek (Autoren)

Pieter Haasbroek (Herausgeber)

eBook Download: EPUB

2025 | 1. Auflage
107 Seiten
Pieter Haasbroek (Verlag)
9780001021600 (ISBN)

Infos

They sent him to find a killer.

What he found was a secret worth dying for.

And he might be next.

In the sun-scorched wilderness of the Northern Transvaal, Detective Sergeant Kobus Roode arrives to investigate the brutal murder of a fellow officer. But this is no simple crime. He soon discovers the dig site of a world-renowned professor who has vanished without a trace, leaving behind whispers of a legendary treasure.

The professor's ruthless assistants, led by the cunning fugitive Rocco del Siva, are hiding a dark secret. They've found the fabled Treasures of Monomotapa. They've already killed to protect their discovery, and now Roode is in their crosshairs. Trapped and cut off, Roode must outwit a cold-blooded mastermind who believes murder is just another tool of the trade.

When the fiery and independent farm owner, Lettie Botha, is dragged into the deadly game, the stakes become brutally personal. Now, Roode isn't just fighting for justice, he's fighting for her life in a desperate chase where every shadow could hide a killer and every decision could be his last.

This high-octane classic action thriller blends gripping mystery with the rugged adventure of a bygone era. Perfect for fans of Wilbur Smith, Alistair MacLean, and pulse-pounding pulp fiction.

Gold, danger, and a legacy untold. The Treasures of Monomotapa delivers an electrifying fifth chapter in the SA Police Series, packed with more pulp, action, and mystery than ever before. If you're ready for high-stakes discovery, the hunt starts today.

Textauszug

5. THE TREASURES OF MONOMOTAPA

Chapter 1

MURDER AT THE DRIFT

“If Jarvis pokes his head out of that hole,” the slender, sallow man said in a hushed voice, “and he informs us that he has found something down there, he will have to die.”

His companion glanced at him quickly. There was an uncertain look in his eyes, as if he did not know whether he should immediately concur with this intention. He was large and burly, with broad shoulders and a massive chest. The sunburnt forearms protruding from the short sleeves of his open-necked shirt were thick and hairy. His eyes were set close together beneath his low forehead, and the expression in them was vacant and servile as he looked at the other man.

“You say he must die, Rocco?” he enquired hesitantly.

“Of course.” The word was soft and sibilant. His eyes, now narrowed above his high cheekbones, flickered with a gleam that was cold and terrifying. It made his features seem even sharper than they already were. “We have discussed it enough, after all. If he finds anything of value, he must be eliminated, and we shall claim it for ourselves. And listen, Kraster, if you call me Rocco again, I’ll beat that flat face of yours even flatter! My name is Rodrique! Remember that, please.”

“But we are alone now, Roc… Rodrique.”

“Even so, it makes no difference. Every bush, every stone, could have ears. Rocco del Siva is practically a household name. The whole world is looking for me. I…”

“But you are safe here, Rodrique,” Kraster Krynauw interrupted him. “No one will come looking for you in the wilderness of the Northern Transvaal. You were last seen in Lourenco Marques.”

“I know that!” Rocco retorted. “And I suppose you’ll now also want to tell me that you gave me the opportunity to hide here while the hunt for me subsides a little. You are supposedly the one appointed by Prof. Jarvis to manage his safari, as he calls it, and you graciously offered me the position of your assistant.”

“But that is all true, Rodrique,” Kraster answered indignantly. “They were hot on your heels in Lourenco Marques. Prof. Jarvis wanted to conduct excavations in these parts and was eager to keep his movements secret. It is a wonderful opportunity…”

“A good opportunity,” Rocco cut in, “to lie low and, at the same time, capitalize on it. I have no intention of letting anyone thwart my plans. I came to your aid twice in Johannesburg. I am the one who got you across the border into Portuguese East Africa. You are therefore more indebted to me than I am to you. In the meantime, you will take orders from me.”

“But of course, Rodrique,” Kraster assured him hastily. “I am in complete agreement with your decision.”

“Good.” Rocco del Siva turned his gaze back to the dark hole in the ground a short distance ahead of them. “If Jarvis finds something down there, we will have to neutralize him.”

“Is it necessary to kill him, Rodrique?”

“Why not?” Rocco replied quite calmly. “But perhaps we will let him live. One never knows how or when one might need him.”

They heard loose gravel and pebbles rolling in the bottom of the hole. They stopped talking.

The sun beat down sharply, shortly after noon. The earth was dry, and there were cracks between the low bushes whose leaves rustled like stiff, brown paper whenever a small bird or a field mouse tried to seek shelter from the fierce sunrays within or beneath them.

Beside the hole, stones were piled up, roughly hewn years, centuries ago. All around the two men lay signs of a stone city built in bygone years here among the rocky ridges. A little way from them, brown dust rose languidly where powerfully built black men with gleaming, sweating skins were breaking up the hard clay with pickaxes.

Rocco and Kraster experienced sensations that were partly the same and partly different when a middle-aged man poked his head out of the hole just in front of them. His broad forehead was wet with sweat, his hair already slightly grey, but his eyes sparkled with a depth of feeling that can only arise when a true researcher has achieved his goal after years of toil and sweat.

“At last!” Professor Jarvis exclaimed with delight. “At last we are within reach of something that, until this moment, was for me nothing more than a theory.” He shook the dust from his clothes. There was sand and cobwebs in his hair, on his forearms, and on his trousers. His hands, his knees, his shoes were covered with slimy mud that seemed out of place in the aridity surrounding the hole.

He smiled. He looked kindly at the two men before him. Kraster stared at him with open-mouthed astonishment. Rocco’s features had suddenly fallen, and the intelligence had vanished from his eyes. Of the two, it appeared at this moment as if Kraster was decidedly the leader.

“But of course you wouldn’t understand,” Jarvis continued. “I have told you very little of my doings so far.” He smiled again, apologetically. “It is perhaps because I was uncertain of my facts. So many of my friends mocked me and assured me that I was wasting my time, that I was reluctant to let it be known what my real purpose in this country was. Now, however, I stand on the threshold of success. Come!” he called out cheerfully. “Come and have a drink with me at my tent, and there I shall tell you everything.”

He walked on ahead. Rocco had been covertly observing the two flat stones with the peculiar markings on them, which Jarvis was handling so carefully. At first glance, it was clear to him that they were the direct cause of Jarvis’s elation, yet he deliberately showed no interest in them and did not ask a single question.

Beneath the large canvas sheet stretched out next to the tent, they took their places around a simple table on riempie chairs. The supplies and tools had been transported by hired trucks to a neighbouring farm deep in this desolate wilderness, a few kilometres south of the Limpopo. From there, it had been carried by the black men, and the camps had been set up here.

Jarvis washed his face and hands and joined them. He placed the two flat stones on the table before him, and it was as if he could not take his eyes off them.

“These markings,” he began without further ado, “are an Arabic script. They correspond perfectly with those on certain documents I discovered during excavations in Arabia. But as I just said,” and there was now a glow of victory in his eyes, “historians and archaeologists rejected my theories. Fortunately, I am in a position to finance myself and was able to undertake this journey at my own expense. I just let them talk, and since I landed in Lourenco Marques, I have kept my plans secret, but you know that yourselves. Now, however, I shall proclaim my discovery to the world. It is the solution to a very old legend, one of the oldest in Africa, the treasures of Monomotapa!

“In the days of the Voortrekkers, there were many young fortune-seekers who had heard the legends of the mighty king Monomotapa. They searched in vain for the hidden treasures. Even today, the old legends resurface from time to time. In any case, to begin at the beginning. According to the documents I discovered in Arabia, years ago there was an extremely profitable ivory trade with the native tribes in these regions. Among others, there was the Naraleti tribe, which is frequently mentioned. The king of the Naraleti was one Montapi. From what I could gather, he was a rather eccentric native. His great obsession in life was the collection of everything that gleamed, that glittered, and that sounded like little bells and glass and hard metals. At first, the Arabs succeeded in striking bargains with him. Loads of ivory were carried away from Montapi’s kraal at ridiculous prices.

“But unfortunately for them, in those days, just as now, there was competition among the traders. One offered Montapi greater gifts than the other, and in time, the cunning native realised what was truly valuable in the eyes of the traders. The result was that within a few years, he had amassed a fortune of precious stones and gold and silver ornaments. Apparently, he hoarded it in his treasure chambers and could sit for hours on end, looking at it and playing with it. It had no other value for him.

“From knowledge he gained from the Arabs, however, he built this stone city. There were even sewers and ‘streets’ between the huts. For sewers, they dug ditches in the ground and placed flat stones slanted against each other over them, like a roof.

“I determined the location of the kraal from the Arabic documents. I made deductions and decided that the name Monomotapa truly originated from Montapi. I immediately made preparations to search for this kraal and to conduct excavations. As I have already said, however, I merely pretended to be a prospector because I did not want to draw attention to myself until I had achieved a reasonable degree of certainty.” He lightly touched the stones on the table. He smiled cheerfully. “Although it will take a while to decipher this script, there is a map drawn on one of the stones indicating the location of a few cellars just like the one we discovered this morning. The treasures will most likely be found therein.”

He sighed with satisfaction. He leaned back against one of the poles over which the canvas was stretched.

“So you are saying,” Kraster began conversationally, “that the treasures will most likely consist of precious stones and ornaments of gold and silver?” He was unaware of the swift and annoyed glance Rocco cast in his direction.

“I think so, Kraster,” Jarvis answered, pleased....

Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 18.9.2025
• Übersetzer: Pieter Haasbroek, Ai
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Krimi / Thriller / Horror
• ISBN-13: 9780001021600 / 9780001021600