Dark Intent by Brian Reeve

The stress of having to please Shozi in circumstances that were out of his depth was beginning to tell.
    ‘ Have all the men returned?’ asked Shozi.
    ‘Two are still out there. They must have gone further afield.’
    ‘Perhaps,’ said Shozi, his eyes darting daggers. ‘Let the men eat then give them their orders.’ He wished it was full moon. ‘I hold you personally responsible.’
    He went indoors his instinct telling him the gunman wouldn’t give up. He picked up the knife and took it into the lounge, placing it on the cushion next to his gun. Setlaba’s ignorance and inability to perform as required under pressure worried him, especially now when animosity between Xhosa and Zulu was at its most volatile since the legendary kaffir wars of the nineteenth century. He sat on the sofa, switching on his prized sound system and tuning in to the deep chanting of Ipi Tombi.
    The music lulled him into a doze and he woke with a start when the machine automatically cut itself out at the end of the tape. He turned off the power, angered by the uncertainty and scratched his crotch thinking it a while since he had last had a woman. They held his interest for only days and he had contacts in Umbali who kept him informed of the pretty girls, young ones in their late teens, preferably virgins. It was never difficult persuading them to come to the house and he did what he liked with them, frequently humiliating them and resorting to depraved acts until he was sexually drained.
    He went up to his bedroom and languished in the dark next to the window thinking of the two guards, if they had come up with anything. He doubted it.

Chapter 26
     
    Moses Shozi’s house
     
    Krige prepared himself in the shadows of the house, the safety on his pistol showing off. Faint voices from the quarters carried to him and he went to the porch. But before he could go further a man appeared from the yard wide of the house, first visible and then masked by a tree.
    Krige froze, hugging the wall. He laid the pistol on his stomach, lining it to where the guard would emerge. The man reappeared, his knobkerrie resting on his shoulder like a rifle. He kept coming, his bearing relaxed. Then he stopped, taking the stick down so it jutted out like a horn.
    Ahead of him, the guard saw the amorphous shape of Krige obscuring the line of brick.
    He was not sure. He told himself to be cautious and he wanted to call for assistance but the disgrace of a false alarm made him do otherwise and he went on, crackling parched leaves and hoisting the weapon above his head.
    With little separating them Krige came from the wall, landing off-balance. He regained his posture rapidly and raised the gun high to get the best aim. He fired and as the guard received the bullets in his chest he came in low, grabbing the body and controlling its descent. He listened for a moment then took the corpse into longer grass. He moved back and onto the porch where he could see between the curtains. He pressed the board from the glass on the hinge of tape until it touched the fabric. His view covered most of the room, the empty sofa and chairs. He opened the curtains and went in, taping the board loosely on the glass. He considered the stairs and was about to go to them when he heard someone coming through the kitchen. He had just made it behind a chair when Setlaba marched in and called up the stairs.
    Almost immediately Shozi showed , bare to the waist. He prompted Setlaba to speak and began to descend.
    ‘The two men have not returned.’ said Setlaba, putting his heels together to improve his bearing.
    ‘I knew they wouldn’t,’ said Shozi. ‘They’re probably dead. Have you posted the others?’
    ‘Yes, they’re in position now. The house is secure.’ He remembered the rocks and rebuked himself for forgetting them.
    ‘The curtains are not together,’ said Shozi, only half -listening. ‘Anyone can see in here.’ He went to the French doors and took the cloth. With a cry he