‘It’s Matt, Matt, Matt!’ Joe was yelling, careering in a demented jig round the Land Rover as it slewed to a halt, and swinging a laughing Ella with him. ‘I heard him, I heard him, I heard him . . . ’ and the two of them plunged back into a knot of jubilant students. At sight of Murothi, Constable Lesakon rushed towards him. ‘Sir, you have seen us signal! We hoped you will see us!’ ‘What does Joe mean? Are they found?’ ‘Ah, no! Just Matt,’ emphatically the constable shook his head. ‘The helicopter, just now, it sees him. He lies on the ground. Now the helicopter will lift him up, and they will go to the hospital.’ ‘The others?’ ‘No, Sir. No one else.’ Murothi breathed deep, relief and disappointment warring in equal measure. He climbed out of the vehicle. ‘And what does Joe mean – this I heard him?’ The constable waggled his head and looked at Samuel for help. ‘The boy thinks he heard Matt play the pipe.’ Samuel sighed. ‘Inspector, it cannot be so.
