Kidnapped

Next morning I got a lie in until 6.00 am. Having packed our basic essentials into the mini-buses we took one final game drive around the Maasai Mara before heading back the way we had come to Lake Naivasha for a re-union with Isobel and Julius, the third member of the crew that looked after us.

You may have noticed that up to this point Wainwright has not featured in my tales. This is because he suffered his own version of deep vein thrombosis during the flight from London to Nairobi. When he emerged from my backpack he was in three pieces!

Our return to Lake Naivasha in the late afternoon afforded me time to wash a few items and then attend to Wainwright. I dug out his first aid kit and set to work. Having to work in the field and not in my garage my surgery was not as precise as previously, but Wainwright looked very good after it.

Not wishing to fill my tent with super glue fumes I put Wainwright outside to recover. Big mistake in a volatile place like Africa.

Shortly afterwards we experienced the worst deluge of the trip. Returning to my tent quickly to zip it up tight my heart skipped a beat. Wainwright was gone.

We took shelter in a covered area where Leo lit his charcoal fire and began to prepare the evening meal. Beyond the shelter was Isobel and I saw that Wainwright was safe. He had somehow managed to get himself into Isobel's cab and was now standing on her dashboard, prominent in his black and amber football strip.

I relaxed and enjoyed another of Leo's wonderful meals, washed down by a bottle of Tusker, the local brew.

The meal ended and the rain abated. But when I glanced across at Isobel, Wainwright was no longer standing in her cab.

I wasn't too concerned at first, but then I found the above note attached to my locker.

Like Poirot, or possibly Inspector Clouseau, I set about discovering the perpetrators of this dreadful crime. I had a list of 18 suspects - the 3 crew members and the other 15 in our party. It couldn't be John and Carol, they were far too nice and seemed genuinely concerned about Wainwright. Two of our younger members, Alex and Helen were equally ruled out as being too pleasant to be involved in crime. Besides, I'd never seen them drinking Tusker. The other younger member, Susie came under immediate suspicion. She had a cheeky way about her and when I turned my searching gaze on her I could see a hint of guilt. The sisters, Jacki and Jenni also came under suspicion as I couldn't see this being a single handed job, it had to be a gang, probably three of them judging by the demand. Jacki and Jenni were travelling with a friend, the delightful Dimnah. I couldn't see Dimnah being caught up in this unless it was under duress, but the numbers added up. However, when I gave Jacki and Jenni my knowing stare I got a sharp 'What are you looking at?' back in response. My detection technique was clearly mistaken for some sort of pervyness. Too serious. I ruled them off the list.

Going back to the note something puzzled me. There was no indication of where or at what time the drop was to be made. Clearly, I was dealing with amateurs.

Then a further clue appeared. Ally, a lone traveller, who had not as yet figured in my suspicions told me she had found a camera with a nasty picture on its digital display. She showed me the picture. What I saw was poor Wainwright, pinned to the ground and with a very large knife at his throat.

Naturally, I wanted to seize the camera as evidence (it was a decent one, definately worth a few quid on ebay), but Ally resisted. Very odd.

Next day there was still no sign of Wainwright but I know he is a tough cookie and would come through his ordeal safe and sound. Luckily there was a nature walk that morning that took my mind off this unpleasant turn of events.

I welcomed the walk as it was the only opportunity for exercise since we had arrived in Africa. There weren't any water buffaloes to disturb us this time but we did see lots of giraffe, warthogs, zebra, impala and gazelle. There was also a good sighting of a black chested buzzard eagle. At least that's what our guide said it was. But he also claimed that the gestation period of a zebra was 24 months. That's longer than an elephant! I think he was just making stuff up on the spot myself.

When we returned to camp all the tents were packed away and after a bite of lunch we headed north, to Lake Nakuru where the kidnappers would finally be unveiled.