Gun Dealing (The Ryder Quartet Book 2) (27 page)

By none other than a man called
Skhura Thabethe.

11.55.

Thabethe and Mkhize were ecstatic.
They had much more than trebled their money on the sales. Mkhize’s network of
kids and teenagers had worked their magic and within a very short time they had
shifted almost the entire load.

Mkhize had asked Thabethe if he could
sit in the Ford with him so that they could watch at a distance, have a beer or
two, and observe his boys in action.

Because their routine was so slick,
it was almost as if the young boys - for they were no more than that - didn’t
care if they might be seen by anyone. A car passes down the road, slowing right
down as a ten-year old saunters across. A few words pass, the driver passes
over a small packet or envelope and moves down to a specific spot where, on a
whistle from the first kid, a second kid appears out of nowhere. This kid
whistles a different kind of sound. The driver then moves on down the road some
thirty
metres
. Another much older kid emerges, walks
over to the driver, greets him as if they were old friends, the driver shakes
hands or high-fives him, and the teenager leaves a small packet in the driver’s
hands as he walks on. Laughter and salutations. The driver moves on down the
road. The team gets ready for the next customer.

Thabethe was pleased with Mkhize’s
operation. They just sat there drinking beer while the first kid walked back
and forth handing them cash. Fifty thousand rands rapidly turned into one
hundred and fifty.

They started planning how they might
grow their business with
umlungu
. The
Big Red Rooster. After a few minutes Thabethe paused and looked at Mkhize.

‘What,
bra
Skhura? What you looking at?’

‘Spikes,
bra
. I’m now thinking.’

‘What you thinking,
bra
?’

‘Spikes, we partners now, huh?’

‘
Eh-heh
,
mfowethu
. We are big partners.’

‘Partners, they need a good bank.’

‘What you saying?’

‘Come. I show you.’

Mkhize was intrigued. Thabethe turned
on the ignition, and they started drifting slowly down the road, at little more
than idling speed. Thabethe was in no hurry. His destination was less than a
hundred paces down the road from Nomivi’s and around the corner.

12.05.
  

The excitement in Nyawula’s office
settled into a more controlled discussion. Pillay initially led the
conversation, aimed at providing Nadine with some of the information all of the
detectives were already party to.

‘The same day Freckles was skewered I
found out quite a bit from the old women in the
neighbourhood
around Nomivi’s Tavern, Nadine. The single most important topic of conversation
for them was how the youngsters in the community were getting hooked on
whoonga
. They had very strong opinions
about it, and it became clear to us that Thabethe had been a key supplier
around there for a couple of years.’

‘Except for the time he spent in jail
for the assault on the banker,’ added Ryder.

‘That’s right, and we think it was
just over a week after he was released that he was back in the game, and
Freckles immediately got hold of him. Something then went wrong between the two
of them and the Afrikaner ended up getting the spoke.’

‘So,’ interjected Nyawula, ‘from
 
what we’ve heard via KoeksnDips, it
sounds as if the
nyaope
trade that
Thabethe and Freckles were involved in wasn’t just
centred
on Nomivi’s, but also had a bit of a history down in Umlazi.’

‘And Thabethe’s reputation as a
supplier,’ Pillay responded, ‘was probably growing rapidly until he was taken
out of circulation for the assault on the banker.’

Nyawula interrupted the ensuing
hubbub.

‘OK, everyone. That brings us full
circle. It feels like only yesterday that I was saying this, but let me say it
again. I want Thabethe, and I want him badly. I want him in front of me. Like
I’ve wanted him for the last year and more. We have to take down this little
bastard. If Trewhella was with us I might even add
dead or alive
to what I’ve just said, not just to please Ed but to
ratchet up the chances of success. But I need some ideas, and I need some
action. Jeremy?’

‘I think Navi and I can get to him,
Captain. We know a good friend of his. We tried him before, but we hadn’t
realised
how slimy he was. We’ll have another go at him.’

‘That
oke
Spikes Mkhize, Jeremy?’

‘The same, Dipps.’

‘Slimy’s the word. Let me know if I
can help. I’d like to take him down.’

‘Thanks, Dipps. I’ll definitely call
on you and Koeks for some help. But without going into all the details,
Captain, let me just say that Navi and I think we can
centre
our activities on Mkhize and use him as bait to nail Thabethe. This is how we
think it might be played out...’

12.25.

Thabethe and Mkhize crouched down
together behind the tree, six or seven paces from the Ford now parked against
the verge. Mkhize was even more intrigued. Thabethe was digging a small hole at
the base of the tree, using a small digging trowel he retrieved from the
adjacent bush. Thabethe spoke as he moved the soil.

‘You remember this place, what
happened here, Spikes?’

‘I remember, Skhura. That Freckles
boy he got the spoke right here, under this tree.’

‘S’right,
bra
. That
skelm
he was
crossing me. He tried to trick me. You know what I do to someone who tries to
trick me? He gets the spoke right here. You know what I keep here?’

‘
Hau
,
Skhura. You keep your money right here? Right near Nomivi? And I’m not knowing
all this time. How many years, now?’

‘Long time. Long time, Spikes. This
here is the Bank of Skhura.’

Thabethe had removed enough soil to
reveal the tin and he reached in and pulled it out. They both laughed as he did
so. Thabethe opened the tin and they both sat opposite it. Mkhize might have
been expecting Captain Morgan’s treasure, but when Thabethe opened the tin he
was disappointed.

It was empty.

‘This bank is empty now, Spikes. Two
weeks ago I was having twenty-four thousand rands here in this tin. Then twelve
thousand. Now I’m needing to make a new deposit. But you and me, we are
partners, now. We can fill this bank, now, and only you and me,
nè?
 
We start our business, you and me, and we keep the money here. You
remember when I’m giving you the money for that first car I’m renting from you?
And then the money for the Honda? And then the Ford? All from here. From Skhura
Bank. Skhura - how you say - incorporated bank.’

They both giggled. Mkhize shook his
head in disbelief.

‘I’m thinking all those times,
Skhura. I’m thinking where you keep your money? Hey, is good, and when you
selling the
whoonga
every time, I’m
thinking where is Skhura taking the money?
Hau
.
Now I know.’

‘You OK, Spikes, if we put the money
from today in this tin?’

Mkhize was entirely happy. He thought
it infinitely safer than his various dubious hiding places
 
in the room behind Nomivi’s.

After ten minutes they left the
scene, having buried one hundred thousand rands in the tin. The remaining fifty
thousand would be for Thabethe to purchase the next package from
umlungu
Red Rooster, tomorrow.

They went back to Nomivi’s, to
celebrate their new partnership.

15.10.
  

Nadine and Mavis were at the Cato
Manor hijacking scene. As they walked carefully around the area, comparing it
with photos and drawings, and noting the remnants of the tapes and markers that
had been put down by Thursday’s first responders - tapes and markers that by
now had been torn by wind and wear and were serving little purpose -
 
Nadine seemed to Mavis to be much more
excited than she had been in the morning meeting in the Captain’s office.

They had had an enjoyable lunch
together: a sandwich and orange juice in Nadine’s office, while discussing
various photographs and drawings pinned on every wall. Nadine had pointed
randomly at different photos and drawings, describing in broad outline various
cases she had worked on, how the bullets matched to both ballistics and blood
spatter, describing facts and fictions about firearm marks, footprints,
tool-marks, and the difference between fingerprints and
finger-marks
.
Mavis was both transfixed and excited.

Then Nadine’s assistant had come in,
breathlessly, carrying a large manila envelope in one hand and a multi-page
report in the other, and asked Nadine to step outside for a moment. They
whispered animatedly together, and Nadine snatched the document from her
assistant. She then scanned the front page of what looked to Mavis, peering
through the gap in the door, to be a lengthy report. Then Nadine put her hand
softly against the cheek of her assistant, and whispered something urgent to
her. The assistant nodded excitedly, then left. Nadine then returned to Mavis.

‘Sorry about that, Mavis. Just got
some really interesting information. I’ll tell you about some of it a little
later. Can we go?’

Mavis saw a complete change of
demeanour
in Nadine as they walked rapidly out to the
latter’s car. The animated conversation over lunch was replaced by a
significantly more thoughtful Nadine as they drove out to Cato Manor. Nadine
handed Mavis a few pages from the report. They included a photo of the dead
man, and a report on where the bullets had entered the body. Nadine let her
read in silence as she drove. It was only when they parked the car and stepped
out to view the hijacking scene that Nadine again appeared animated and
excited.

Within seconds she was bending low
over the soil, looking back and forth from what she saw there to what was
depicted in the photographs.

‘See here, Mavis?’

She pointed to three or four French
fries, covered in soil, and drew Mavis in for a closer look.

‘What do you see, Mavis?’

‘Chips, Miss Nadine. Chips.’

‘And here?’

‘Bullet-hole, Miss Nadine, and
blood?’

‘That’s right, Mavis.’

‘The bullet is there in the ground?’

‘No, Mavis. The first people who
looked at the scene dug around a bit and took the bullets away, and most of the
chips. It’s been four days since the - since the event. So that’s quite a long
time. We aren’t here to do a detailed crime scene investigation. That’s been
done already. I’m just looking at it to see what I can put together. Shall I
tell you something, Mavis?’

‘Please, yes, Miss Nadine.’

‘Nadine, please, Mavis.’

‘Yes, Miss - yes, I mean, Nadine.’

‘What do you think happened here?’

‘Hijack?’

‘That’s what they think at Cato
Manor. And tell me the signs you see of the hijacking.’

Nadine was then hugely impressed with
what she heard. Mavis described it as she saw it. She painted a detailed
picture of a likely hijacking. Someone pulled over on the side of the road,
eating their lunch. Either McDonalds or Wimpy or KFC. But most likely KFC
because of the photo that someone had taken and that Nadine had showed her. The
wrappings seemed to be KFC. The remnants of the chips were similar to those she
recognised
from her own experience of KFC. She then
described a likely scenario, looking at both the photos and the marks on the
ground, and referring back to the document she had read in the car. Hijacker
sneaks up from the bush. Catches the driver while he is eating. Forces him out
of the car. Makes him kneel down in front of him. Shoots him in the shoulders,
one bullet each. When he falls back, he stands over him and shoots him four
times in the face. Gets in the car and drives away.

‘Excellent, Mavis. But what else do
you see in the report?’

‘Something funny, Miss - I mean,
Nadine.’

‘What’s funny. Mavis?’

‘The dead man has a wallet with
money. The hijacker takes the car but not the money.’

‘Brilliant, Mavis. I think I need you
on my team.’

‘Thank you Miss Nadine.’

‘Nadine.’

‘Thank you.’

‘But you made one mistake, Mavis. A
big mistake.’

In response to Mavis’s crestfallen
look, Nadine quickly reassured her.

‘Don’t worry, Mavis. Most of the
people looking at this incident made the same mistake. Perfectly
understandable.’

‘What mistake, Nadine?’

‘Have a look at the photos again,
Mavis, and the ground, too. But the ground is not so reliable now, after four
days. People have been walking all over it. CSI people, police, maybe since
then a few spectators and dogs, too. But, still, have a look at the ground in
relation to the photos. What do you see?’