The Cuban

by Paul Eksteen

  She had a daughter to raise, and Corlea probably needed a father figure in her upbringing. Just as Danielle needed a mother. One of these days her body was going to go through the changes of becoming a woman, and I was not the perfect person to have that discussion with her.

  Maybe she had already gone through that phase. I really did not know and was too afraid to ask. I noticed that she was wearing a bra lately, but did not know when exactly this had happened.

  Karlien had been married before and, just after Corlea was born, her husband was diagnosed as being a schizophrenic. He was a dentist in Polokwane and suddenly started having hallucinations and eventually developed a serious persecution mania.

  He disappeared from time to time and, in one of his fits, got stranded in Windhoek, after he fled from guys from Nigeria who were apparently following him. He got locked up at the Hosea Kutako airport after he tried to burst through the security gates.

  Karlien had to fly to Namibia to bail him out.

  They went to see their general practitioner who referred them to a psychiatrist who did some tests and prescribed medication. Her husband struggled to concentrate and when he started to gain weight as well, he refused to take his medication.

  A few months after being diagnosed, he stole a Cessna plane from the private airfield in Polokwane and was killed in an attempt to flee somewhere with the aircraft. He crashed the plane as he tried to take off and the plane, with him inside it, burned to ashes.

  I had told Karlien a lot of my life story, but not everything.

  I was almost certain that I was ready for commitment but was not a hundred per cent sure about her.

  And now this Lillynn woman was throwing a spanner in the works. There were just too many things happening at once. Things needed to be sorted out. And fast.

  The fraud case with the government vehicles seemed like a minor issue compared to Lillynn. I would have to get to her soon and see what I could find out.

  There was more to it than just a breach of my security.

  CHAPTER 14

  Rand Airport, Johannesburg — Sunday, 15 March

  It was four in the afternoon when Mario Canossa landed his King Air aircraft at the Rand Airport. Mario and Chicco, his partner, had spent the weekend ‘hunting’ at their game lodge near Ellisras in Limpopo.

  Accompanying them were two of the finest Russian girls from Elite VIP escorts in Sandton. Mario entertained special guests on a regular basis at the game lodge and had found that most of his customers enjoyed the delights from Elite VIP much more than hunting in the bush.

  Their business was doing very well with the assistance of his special excursions to the game lodge. He selected key procurement managers from large companies as well as top government officials to treat at the lodge. Many times, these trips were the deciding factor in a close tender situation.

  Mario enjoyed flying the King Air Model 200SE airplane which he had bought from one of the co-operations in the Northwest Province a few years previously. The plane was fourteen years old, but still in excellent condition.

  He had to convert his licence from the single propeller Cessna 210, which he previously owned, to the twin turbo propelled Piper with EFIS avionics. Luckily for him, his original instructor resided in Klerksdorp where the King Air was stationed for the co-operation from which he bought it.

  Mario would fly to Klerksdorp in his Cessna, do training with the King Air under instruction from his instructor, and then fly back to the Rand Airport in Gauteng where he stored the Cessna.

  It took him six months to do the conversion, and one of the best days of his life was when he could leave the Cessna in Klerksdorp and fly back on his own to Gauteng with the King Air.

  He already had a buyer for the Cessna, and the new buyer would do his training in Klerksdorp as well.

  Mario had had to extend the length of the runway on the company farm to sixteen hundred metres to be able to land a fully loaded King Air on his private airstrip. This he had done whilst doing his conversion from the Cessna to the Piper.

  ***

  A driver from Elite VIP was already waiting on the tarmac when Mario brought the plane to a standstill. Chicco handed the girls their luggage and got back in the plane to taxi to their hangar with Mario.

  As they stopped at the hangar, one of the fuel attendants walked up to the plane with an outstretched hand, holding out an envelope.

  Mario was turning the nose of the plane away from the hangar to enable them to reverse it into the hangar. “See what this cafone wants,” Mario instructed Chicco as he switched first the right and then the left motors off.

  Chicco got out of the plane and walked to the attendant. “It is addressed to you, Mario,” Chicco said.

  “Where does it come from?” he asked the attendant.

  “Some guy gave it to me, to give to you, sir,” the attendant remarked.

  Chicco opened the doors to the hangar and drove his 600S Mercedes, which was parked inside, out onto the tarmac. He left the envelope in the car and, with the assistance of Mario and the fuel attendant, they winched the plane into the hangar.

  “Load the luggage, Chicco,” Mario instructed as he opened the passenger door to the Mercedes and slid into the soft leather seat. He opened the envelope and felt his face getting hot.

  Inside were a one-page letter and four glossy pictures of him, Chicco and the two escort ladies climbing into the King Air. The photos had the time and date stamped onto the bottom right of the pictures. It was taken on Friday when they left for the farm.

  On the loose sheet of paper, it stated a name, a bank account number and an amount.

  The bank account was from a bank in Switzerland.

  The name: Steven Smith.

  And the amount: two hundred thousand rand.

  Mario could not believe his eyes. Who would send him these pictures? Him, Mario Canossa. Did this person know who he was?

  As Chicco got into the car, Mario burst out, “Chicco, see this here shakedown. This guy is a goner. Chepeccato. He sends me photos of the comare. The facia bruta!”

  Chicco took the photos from Mario. He felt a chill down his spine. He was not worried about the photos. He was more worried about what was going to happen to the guy who sent them.

  One does not screw around with Mario. Mario was the capo in the East Rand. Clearly this person was a jamook, an idiot, a loser. Mario would definitely not pay any bribe money.

  Mario had contacts. Bad people who wait for opportunities like this.

  He shook his head and handed the photos back to Mario.

  “This is a mistake, Mario. This jamook is dead. He just doesn’t know it yet. Buon’ anima, rest his soul.”

  Mario was slumped back in his seat. He too was shaking his head. “Do we have a cugine to do a contract? I do not want to bother Vinnie with a mezza morta job like this.”

  Vincent (Vinnie) Cardinella, also known as Vinnie The Butcher, was the hit man used by Mario and the rest of the clan in the East Rand. Before Mario could give him a contract, the rest of the clan should be informed, and a decision would then be made by administration.

  If he used a cugine, or soldier not yet made, he could do it without consulting the rest of the clan. And something like this happening to him, Mario Canossa, was egg on his face. The clan must not find out about it. He must resolve it silently and fast.

  “I will contact Dino Lupo tomorrow, Mario. He has been waiting for an opportunity like this for a long time now. He is a stand-up guy and will keep this in the outfit.”

  “You contact Dino tonight, Chicco. I want this pucchiacha whacked. I want him whacked tomorrow!”

  ***

  Coetzee Family Farm, Vivo

  It was eleven o’clock on Sunday night and Hendrik and Retha Botha were struggling to fall asleep. Their habit was to have an early supper and then watch the eight o’clock Sunday night movie together. But tonight, they both struggled to follow the plot.

  The murder of Jan was bothering both — the
murder of a neighbour and close friend was something that would take them a long time to get used to.

  They were just beginning to slumber in when they were woken by a hammering on the kitchen door. “Baas Hendrik, Baas Hendrik. Miesies! Kom help!”

  They recognised the voice of Petrus, one of the tractor drivers who also lived on the farm.

  Hendrik grabbed his double-barrelled shotgun which was lying on the floor next to his bed. “Stay inside, Retha. I will try and find out what is going on. It might be a trap.” Retha grabbed her .38 Special revolver from the bedside table and started looking for her dressing gown.

  Hendrik cautiously moved to the kitchen in the dark. “Wat is dit, Petrus?” he enquired from behind the closed door.

  “Daar is slang by kamer van Selina, Baas,” Petrus replied.

  Hendrik took a Maglite torch from the bracket next to the back door and followed Petrus to the servants’ quarters. According to him there was a snake in Selina’s room. Well, that could be serious and even deadly. Depends on what type of snake it was.

  “Selina, come out of the room,” he yelled as he got to the door of her chambers.

  It was dead quiet inside.

  “What is going on?” he asked Petrus.

  “She was bitten by a snake and now is too scared to move,” Petrus said.

  “Well, what do you want me to do?” he enquired from Petrus. “If she comes out, I can take her to the clinic. But I am not going in there.”

  Petrus started talking to Selina in Sotho, her native language.

  Hendrik could hear Selina’s mumbling reply but even though he was fluent in the native language, he could decipher what she was saying.

  “She is too afraid to move,” Petrus remarked.

  “Open the door, Petrus,” Hendrik instructed.

  “I tried earlier already to open the door, Baas. It is locked from the inside. That’s why I went to the house for help.”

  “Get an axe and break the door down, Petrus. I am going to fetch a lantern.”

  When Hendrik returned with the Coleman lantern, Petrus was waiting at Selina’s door. The door lock was smashed, and the door slightly ajar.

  “I hear nothing from her,” Petrus exclaimed. Hendrik pushed the door open and stepped back. Nothing.

  He told Petrus to get a long dropper to hold the lantern with. He could see Selina lying on the bed in her nightclothes. Her bed cover was lying in a heap against the wall. Next to the bed cover, a three-metre-long black mamba was lying; its head a foot from the ground, moving from side to side.

  Hendrik shot the mamba and told Petrus to help him get Selina in the car. She seemed to be in a trance or semi-coma already.

  By the time they got to the clinic in Vivo, she was already dead.

  ***

  The black mamba, or Dendroaspis polulepis, is the second longest venomous snake species, exceeded in length only by the king cobra. Its venom is primarily composed of potent neurotoxins which are extremely toxic.

  The black mamba is graceful but skittish and often unpredictable. They seldom tolerate humans approaching closer than about forty metres. Under threat, any sudden movement by the intruder may provoke the mamba into a series of rapid strikes. It is probably the fastest snake on earth, moving at speeds exceeding twenty kilometres per hour.

  ***

  The next morning, a sangoma near Mara was found dead in his hut by his wives. It seemed that one of the snakes which he used for rituals had bitten him the previous night in his sleep. No one knew how the snake got out of the glass fish tank in which it was kept.

  CHAPTER 15

  Italian Club, Nigel — Wednesday, 18 March

  Mario Canossa stopped his red Ferrari in his spot next to the flagpole at the Italian club. He was happy that no one even considered parking there.

  The happenings of Sunday were still fresh in his mind, and because of that, he had been impossible to live with the past three days.

  Even Chicco disappeared for two days after meeting with Mario on Monday morning at the office. Mario was in a foul mood and wanted the problem resolved, pronto.

  Mario saw Chicco’s Porsche in his own parking spot. Chicco was clever to face him in front of the clan. He didn’t have the guts to face Mario alone for a second time in the same week.

  He just hoped that Chicco had got hold of Dino Lupo. Dino was a stand-up guy and would jump to please Mario, when offered an opportunity like this.

  As he walked into the restaurant, Vito was ready waiting to welcome him. Mario had to keep his cool not to shove Vito away. “Steady, Mario,” he said to himself. “Be considerate. Chicco is here and he is not going anywhere.”

  He greeted Vito and Stefani and then joined his friends at their usual table in the smoking section of the restaurant.

  Before Mario could take his seat, Chicco got up from the table and walked towards him. “Let’s go outside, Mario,” he suggested.

  “Hi fellas,” Mario greeted the clan members. “Sorry, I need to go outside for a few minutes. See you now-now.”

  Guiseppe Roselli was looking up from his little black book. “You can go, Mario. It will make Mickey very happy. He lost again this week!” Guiseppe laughed out loud.

  Mario followed Chicco through a glass sliding door to the verandah. They were scarcely through the door and out of earshot from the table when he enquired, “Did you get hold of Dino, Chicco?’

  “I did, Mario. I did. I phoned him Sunday night. I phoned him again this morning. I’ve been busy, Mario. We will have this pucchiacha sorted soon.”

  “You got a name and you got a bank account number. What else do you need?”

  “We only need some time, Mario. You know the name is false. We must get the information from Switzerland. No problem. But we need some time. As soon as I’ve got the info, I will meet with Dino.”

  Mario could see how nervous Chicco was. He was rough on him on Monday morning. To Chicco, his partner. It was not Chicco’s fault that this cafone was trying to blackmail him.

  Mario hugged Chicco. “Thanks, Chicco. I know you are doing your best. I am happy. You just sort it. Now let’s go eat.”

  He turned around and walked inside with outstretched arms. He had a wry grin on his face. “Stefani, where is my Bellini,” he shouted as he lit one of his small black cigars.

  ***

  Polokwane

  It was just getting dark when I joined Karlien at the school play after work. Danielle was performing in the lead role and was very excited about having me in the audience. Karlien was assisting with the costumes and make-up and went to the school right after work.

  Kwinzee and his wife, Lebogang, visited me and Danielle on Sunday morning for breakfast. Whilst Danielle and Lebo prepared the bacon and eggs, Kwinzee and I had a chat in my studio.

  He informed me about his visit to Selina, and I updated him about the breach of security at the SSA and my suspicions about Lillynn.

  He nodded a lot and smiled very secretively.

  “We have to stop this thing. And fast, DC. You must go back to Dullstroom next weekend and get hold of this bitch. I will clean up on this side so long.”

  Before we could discuss any more details, we were called for breakfast by the girls.

  I saw Kwinzee only fleetingly during the week at the office, we were both busy with our own individual tasks, but agreed to get together and consult on Thursday morning.

  Danielle went back to the hostel to meet with friends after the show, while I decided to take Karlien to a new restaurant a few blocks away. Karlien decided to drive me, and we left my bakkie in the school parking lot.

  We had a magic dinner and two bottles of wine. I decided to stay the night at Karlien’s town house as Corlea was staying over at friends.

  Karlien said that she knew it was going to be a late night and had arranged Corlea’s sleeping out in advance. And my sleeping in for that matter.

  We had to make up for lost time, and the wine helped a lot with that. We had reached what I f
elt was the point of no return during our last date. Things were scratchy, as I was preoccupied and did not give enough attention to Karlien.

  “If you don’t mind my saying so, you are a difficult person to fall in love with,” she said.

  At that stage I couldn’t keep it in any longer. “If I’m such a waste of time, why are you still bothering with me?”

  “I never said you were a waste of time.” She turned and gave me a kiss full on the lips. “I never said that.”

  And that was the final icebreaker. From there on, we were like two teenagers.

  We were enjoying each other’s company, so much so that we overslept the following morning.

  We woke with a start, realising that we had overslept. There was only time for one of us to take a quick shower, and as I was my own boss, it was decided that I would drop Karlien off at work and drive out to my farm with her car to shave and shower.

  Once at home, I decided to take it easy and make myself a proper breakfast before going into the office to meet with Kwinzee.

  As I came out of the shower, my phone started ringing. Kwinzee. He was looking for the bakkie — a buyer rocked up early in the morning and they waited for me to show up. I told Kwinzee where the bakkie was parked and told him to use the bakkie’s spare keys which were in a safe at the office to collect the bakkie from the school. I would drive to Papillon in Karlien’s car and meet him there.

  I was just finishing my breakfast when my phone rang again.

  It was Danielle’s principal. “Tom, you’d better get here as soon as possible. Your bakkie got wrecked ten minutes ago.”

  I jumped in Karlien’s Jetta and put my foot down.

  On my way to the school, I could hear the sirens going mad. I drove into the parking area and almost stalled the Jetta when I saw the bakkie.

  The driver’s side was burned completely black and was still smoking. The cab was torn open like a tin of sardines and there were glass fragments everywhere. The bakkie was surrounded by ER24 workers, fire trucks, tow trucks, and policemen who tried to get their crime scene tape in place.