Thabethe asked more probing questions around what the twins had
told Mkhize about the ambush on Sunday and the grandmother’s experience with the
three men that afternoon. Then he remembered something specific that Mkhize had
said to him earlier.
‘Spikes. I want to ask you one
thing.’
‘Is what, Skhura? What one thing?’
‘You say to me just now. You say to
me that when these guys are talking to your mother, they say to her what is the
name of the detective who the girls talked to. You were saying that your mother
she is telling you that these guys they want the information about this
detective.’
‘Is correct, Skhura. That is just
what she says to me.’
‘And she give you the answer, bra ? She tell you if she told those guys
who was that detective?’
‘ Hayi ,
Skhura, she doesn’t tell me the name of the detective. She just tells me they
ask his name. I’m not knowing if she tells them his name. I can find out if she
tells them, if you like.’
‘See if you find out, Spikes. You
tell me if the old gogo she told
those guys, OK?’
‘OK, Skhura. I call her and find out.
But not tonight, hey bra ? That old
woman she’s mad. She’s not talking to me tonight. Is too late for her. I phone
her tomorrow. Then I phone you and tell you. Is OK?’
‘Is OK. You phone me tomorrow. Tell
me if she told those guys the name of that detective.’
‘ Yebo,
bra . I do that. I phone tomorrow and tell you.’
‘ Sharp ,
Spikes. I must go now.’
They took leave of each other,
nodding and punching fists and laughing at a few of Spikes’s customary lewd
comments. Thabethe checked through the windows to see that the street was
functioning exactly as it should on a weeknight after dark. Then he left,
wondering how he might use some of the information he had picked up.
He wondered specifically how he might
find out the name of this detective that was investigating the case. If that
detective was looking for the three men who hid in the bush at Blythedale, then
he would be looking for the three pistols, and if he found the men, he would
find two of the pistols. He would then start looking for the third pistol.
That detective would then come
looking for Skhura Thabethe.
He paused as this thought struck him.
He had not yet got to the street. Mkhize, who stood in his doorway, some twenty
paces back, watching him, called out.
‘Is OK, Skhura?’
Thabethe turned and walked back to
him.
‘I’m thinking, Spikes.’
‘ Yebo ,
Skhura. You thinking what?’
‘I’m thinking, you saying you gotta
1974 Ford?’
‘Is a good car, Skhura, I’m telling
you. Twenty-five thousand rands only for you, bra .’
‘No thanks, Spikes. I’m not wanting
to buy ‘nother car. But you rent to me? You know I like to rent and not buy.
How much for one week?’
‘No problem, bra . For you, Skhura, special price. You want now? Tonight? I got
there at the back. Take five minutes, bra .
I get the papers and we do it right now.’
21.25
The three thugs made their way back
to Themba’s shack in KwaMashu M with only one scary moment. This was just as
they left the R102 for the M25 when police sirens arrived out of nowhere and
suddenly blue lights appeared in their rearview mirror. Their first reaction as
Themba pulled over onto the verge was that they had been caught, with no escape
possible.
Macks thought they might have been
followed since leaving the shebeen just north of Greyville, where Mavuso had
surprised him and Themba by suddenly pulling out cash they never knew he had,
and buying all the booze. Seeing
them carrying a large box laden with bottles of gin, whisky, brandy, vodka and
beer to the car, perhaps someone had got suspicious and called the cops.
Themba thought that maybe the police
had somehow traced the false number plates. That detective who was looking for
them: maybe him. He’d thought that somehow the detective had managed to trace
them. This Jiminy Rider guy. Jimmy Rider. Whoever he was. Themba was
told Mkhize about the ambush on Sunday and the grandmother’s experience with the
three men that afternoon. Then he remembered something specific that Mkhize had
said to him earlier.
‘Spikes. I want to ask you one
thing.’
‘Is what, Skhura? What one thing?’
‘You say to me just now. You say to
me that when these guys are talking to your mother, they say to her what is the
name of the detective who the girls talked to. You were saying that your mother
she is telling you that these guys they want the information about this
detective.’
‘Is correct, Skhura. That is just
what she says to me.’
‘And she give you the answer, bra ? She tell you if she told those guys
who was that detective?’
‘ Hayi ,
Skhura, she doesn’t tell me the name of the detective. She just tells me they
ask his name. I’m not knowing if she tells them his name. I can find out if she
tells them, if you like.’
‘See if you find out, Spikes. You
tell me if the old gogo she told
those guys, OK?’
‘OK, Skhura. I call her and find out.
But not tonight, hey bra ? That old
woman she’s mad. She’s not talking to me tonight. Is too late for her. I phone
her tomorrow. Then I phone you and tell you. Is OK?’
‘Is OK. You phone me tomorrow. Tell
me if she told those guys the name of that detective.’
‘ Yebo,
bra . I do that. I phone tomorrow and tell you.’
‘ Sharp ,
Spikes. I must go now.’
They took leave of each other,
nodding and punching fists and laughing at a few of Spikes’s customary lewd
comments. Thabethe checked through the windows to see that the street was
functioning exactly as it should on a weeknight after dark. Then he left,
wondering how he might use some of the information he had picked up.
He wondered specifically how he might
find out the name of this detective that was investigating the case. If that
detective was looking for the three men who hid in the bush at Blythedale, then
he would be looking for the three pistols, and if he found the men, he would
find two of the pistols. He would then start looking for the third pistol.
That detective would then come
looking for Skhura Thabethe.
He paused as this thought struck him.
He had not yet got to the street. Mkhize, who stood in his doorway, some twenty
paces back, watching him, called out.
‘Is OK, Skhura?’
Thabethe turned and walked back to
him.
‘I’m thinking, Spikes.’
‘ Yebo ,
Skhura. You thinking what?’
‘I’m thinking, you saying you gotta
1974 Ford?’
‘Is a good car, Skhura, I’m telling
you. Twenty-five thousand rands only for you, bra .’
‘No thanks, Spikes. I’m not wanting
to buy ‘nother car. But you rent to me? You know I like to rent and not buy.
How much for one week?’
‘No problem, bra . For you, Skhura, special price. You want now? Tonight? I got
there at the back. Take five minutes, bra .
I get the papers and we do it right now.’
21.25
The three thugs made their way back
to Themba’s shack in KwaMashu M with only one scary moment. This was just as
they left the R102 for the M25 when police sirens arrived out of nowhere and
suddenly blue lights appeared in their rearview mirror. Their first reaction as
Themba pulled over onto the verge was that they had been caught, with no escape
possible.
Macks thought they might have been
followed since leaving the shebeen just north of Greyville, where Mavuso had
surprised him and Themba by suddenly pulling out cash they never knew he had,
and buying all the booze. Seeing
them carrying a large box laden with bottles of gin, whisky, brandy, vodka and
beer to the car, perhaps someone had got suspicious and called the cops.
Themba thought that maybe the police
had somehow traced the false number plates. That detective who was looking for
them: maybe him. He’d thought that somehow the detective had managed to trace
them. This Jiminy Rider guy. Jimmy Rider. Whoever he was. Themba was
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