Now I See You

by Holmes, Priscilla; Holmes, Priscilla;

  ‘Most of it came from an East London businessman, whose daughter and granddaughter had been in the café. They were both killed.’

  I couldn’t speak. I turned away.

  ‘Would you like to see some photographs?’ asked Bowles.

  ‘Yes,’ I said.

  It was a short walk to the conference room, which was twenty metres long, with a window running the length of it, giving a panoramic view of the city. In the dusk, car headlights were floating gold sequins sparkling on the highway. A large screen hanging from the ceiling at the end of the room came alive with white light. Four photographs appeared simultaneously on the screen. All were young black men wearing prison garb. None looked familiar. Bowles pointed to a hollow-eyed boy, unshaven and trying to look tough.

  ‘That is your father,’ he said.

  Tears rushed behind my eyes. The other two looked similar. Just three frightened kids.

  Then Bowles put up a photograph of an older man. He looked like an ex-convict, with a shaved head and scar on his forehead.

  ‘Lucas Makanda,’ he said. ‘As you see, he’s older than the others. He and his family lived in semi-poverty most of their lives. If he did claim the ransom money, he certainly didn’t use it to improve his lifestyle.’

  In the next photograph a young blonde mother and daughter smiled at the camera. I knew what was coming. I fought the lump rising in my throat.

  ‘Sarie and Wendy Potgieter; they were killed in the bomb blast. Wendy was nine years old.’

  I stared at the screen for a long time before Bowles walked to the wall and switched off the lights.

  My head ached. I wanted to leave. Get up and walk away from them all.

  ‘All we ask is that you have another look at the beads in your valley. See what they say about this incident. Then we need your grandfather to verify your statement.’

  ‘You’re asking the impossible,’ I said. ‘Ask your colleague, Khumalo. He’s met my grandfather.’

  Zak approached and stood next to me. ‘Nothing is impossible, if you want it badly enough,’ he said quietly.

  ‘Yes,’ I hissed through tight lips, so the others wouldn’t hear. ‘You certainly know how to get what you want, even if it means betraying a colleague’s confidence.’

  ‘What we’re going to do now,’ Bowles said in a conclusive tone, ‘is let Detective Inspector Tswane go about her business. I know she’s on a case in the Eastern Cape, and she’s eager to get back. Will you give this some thought, please? Get back to me in a few days?’

  ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Thank you for telling me this.’

  I walked out of the conference room and stared through the window into the embers of a fiery Johannesburg sunset.

  I could feel Zak standing close behind me. He put his arm round me.

  I shrugged him off. ‘Don’t touch me,’ I said, trying to keep my voice level.

  ‘Just a concerned colleague,’ he said. ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘Should I be?’ I asked. ‘I’ve just heard that most of my family are murderers.’

  ‘Freedom fighters, Thabisa. Idealistic young men who wanted to abolish apartheid.’

  ‘They murdered innocent women and children.’

  ‘Apartheid forced many people to act for the greater good, Thabisa,’ Zak said. ‘And sometimes innocent people paid the price for that.’

  I flinched, thinking of my country’s dark past.

  We walked down windowed corridors, full of glassed-off cubicles with people working inside them.

  ‘Come, let’s get out of here, go and have something to eat,’ Zak suggested.

  I didn’t answer him.

  ‘Look, Thabisa, I’m sorry I told Bowles about the bead room, but it’s vital to this case that he knows about it.’

  ‘Maybe so,’ I replied. ‘But you’ve betrayed a confidence. It tells me a lot about you. I was an idiot to tell you anyway.’

  ‘Let’s discuss your feelings over this, Thabisa. Why are you so angry? It’s going to help solve a crime. It’s our job, remember?’

  I stared rigidly at him. I didn’t enjoy having my vulnerability on display. I had no intention of discussing my feelings with anyone, let alone Zak Khumalo. ‘You might be good at interrogating people, but you’re not extracting more confidences from me. I’ve had enough drama for one day.’

  He smiled at me.

  ‘Why the patronising grin, Khumalo?’

  ‘It’s the grin of a man who loves you, babe.’

  My heart skipped and I struggled to reply nonchalantly. ‘Who said anything about love?’

  ‘There are all sorts of love,’ Zak said. ‘My kind doesn’t come with the usual conventions.’

  We turned into an office with four real walls and a proper door, which read: ‘Zak Khumalo’. Zak closed it. His eyes softened as he looked at me. He put his arms tight around me and held me to him for a few seconds before I wriggled away from his grasp.

  ‘I’m sorry about your father and uncles,’ he said quietly. ‘It’s not good to learn about it like this, but I want to find out who betrayed them and walked off with the three million rand. I want your help, Thabisa. I need you to show me the beads.’

  I pulled away from him. ‘In your dreams, Khumalo.’

  I walked out and slammed the door behind me.

  19

  30 June 2006

  Sue smiled to herself as she swept into the bank. She didn’t often dress like this, but when she did every head turned in her direction. She wore a short, black skirt and stiletto heels and her tight red jacket followed the sinuous lines of her body, opening at the front to reveal the taut swell of her breasts under a silky camisole. She would have stopped the traffic in London wearing this outfit, and in sleepy Grahamstown on a cold winter morning, she was dazzling.

  She smiled to herself, remembering Julia’s comment about her appearance as she’d left the house that morning. She had put on a spectacular push-up bra, a complete contrast to the usual breast-flattening clothing she wore when they were going on a heist.

  ‘Wow,’ Julia had laughed, ‘nobody would mistake you for a man wearing that.’

  ‘That’s the point,’ Sue replied. ‘Today I’m all woman!’

  The power of sex. If Sue understood one thing, it was that.

  She remembered the time she and Sando had gone to the game park. The day he changed the dynamics of their relationship.

  They had encountered a breeding herd of elephant not far off the private road they were on. He stopped the car.

  ‘Get out and walk towards them,’ he’d commanded. She started to walk in front of him through the waist-high grass. She was wearing khaki shorts and a loose silk top, with nothing underneath. She knew how good she looked and she could feel Sando’s eyes slipping their way between her legs. Everything around her seemed to reflect her hunger for him. The waterhole, the heavy sky, the heat. She stumbled and half-turned.

  ‘Don’t look at me.’ His voice jerked her back to reality. ‘Just walk, watch the elephant, they don’t know we are so close... yet.’

  They arrived in a small clearing where a large borehole pump shot up through the trees, its windmill arms catching the light. The elephant were very close now.

  ‘Up against the tower,’ Sando had ordered. She obeyed him and leaned against the corrugated surface. He came up behind her and parted her thighs with his knee. Her face was pushed against the hot tin of the water tower as he thrust into her. She was on fire.

  ‘A little fear is good, isn’t it?’ he’d whispered. Her mind exploded like a chorus of demented angels as he slowly worked his magic and the elephant came nearer and nearer. It was a mixture of pleasure and fear more intense than anything she had ever experienced.

  ‘It’s good to push yourself further,’ he said. ‘Pleasure and pain are the best bedfellows, don’t you think?’

  He turned her to face him and leaned into her, kissing her hot, flushed face, thrusting his tongue in her mouth.

  ‘Why don’t you steal
a car? I’ll tell you exactly how to do it. You’ll find the adrenaline rush delicious. You’ll never feel so alive. I’ll be there to help you. You’ll be safe with me.’

  And he had been with her, all the way, until now. Now it was time for Sue to put the next part of her plan into action and she had to do it on her own. She walked up to the counter and handed her card to the receptionist who gazed at her in astonishment.

  ‘I have an appointment with the manager,’ she said coolly.

  A few minutes later, she was ushered into the office of Mr James Wilmot.

  Wilmot’s eyebrows rose as Sue made her entrance. One look at him and Sue knew he was perfect for her plan. About sixty, with the disappointed look of a man who has known failure in just about every area of his life, James Wilmot’s long top lip made him appear permanently sad and serious. At least their encounter would cheer him up, give him something to smile about – for a while.

  Sue’s eyes flicked around the room, assessing everything. About a dozen cardboard boxes filled with books and files rested on the floor. The desk was clear apart from depressing photographs of a fierce-looking woman and four overfed children. The pale winter sun pierced the window and painted a yellow pattern on the wall. Dust motes swirled in the air. It was all rather gloomy.

  ‘Oh dear, are you moving offices?’ Sue asked in the husky voice she used on special occasions.

  ‘No. Actually, I’m retiring,’ Wilmot scrambled up hastily and indicated that Sue should sit down opposite him.

  ‘How can I help you, Miss –’ he glanced at Sue’s business card, ‘– Miss Kellon?’

  Sue smiled sweetly. ‘Retiring? Surely not? You can’t possibly be old enough.’

  ‘We can’t stay in our jobs forever, not when there are youngsters coming up for promotion,’ he said, bravely trying to smile. ‘Now, how can I be of assistance?’

  ‘I wanted to meet you to discuss the account I opened here two weeks ago.’ Sue crossed her legs. She saw his eyes widen and smiled to herself.

  Wilmot might have been quite good-looking about twenty years ago. Now, though, he was portly and his grey hair was thinning. With his fair skin, pale blue eyes and stout build, he gave the impression of squat solidity, the epitome of a reliable bank manager.

  He dialled his receptionist and asked her to bring the file on Miss Kellon. When she entered the room, the woman frowned at Sue, her mouth pinched like a lemon as her eyes ran over Sue’s long, slim legs and swelling breasts. Sue smiled sweetly and watched as she left the room.

  Wilmot studied Sue’s account details, which his receptionist had placed on the desk. He blinked. Sue licked her lips with a small pink tongue as she watched him discover she had deposited four million rand into a cheque account two weeks ago.

  ‘Miss Kellon,’ he said, ‘we must transfer your funds into a higher-interest account immediately.’

  ‘Thank you, Mr Wilmot,’ Sue said in her throatiest voice. ‘I appreciate your advice. I really need a man to help me with financial matters.’

  ‘Are you living in Grahamstown?’

  ‘I’m renting a house here while I decide what I’m going to do next.’

  ‘Are you... alone?’ he ventured.

  ‘Yes.’ Sue kept her eyes downcast. ‘I’m a widow.’

  She watched from under her lashes as Wilmot moved uncomfortably in his chair. He looked hot and flushed.

  ‘Are you English?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes, but I’ve fallen in love with South Africa. Particularly this part of South Africa.’

  ‘I would have thought... Johannesburg?’

  ‘No, Mr Wilmot, I’m a country girl. I’m considering investing in a game farm.’

  ‘We’ve got some excellent game farms in the Eastern Cape. Have you visited any?’

  ‘Not yet.’ Sue bent forward, deliberately showing off more of her impressive cleavage. Wilmot’s eyes were fixed on her breasts.

  ‘Perhaps you could arrange some introductions for me?’ she suggested, playing with the tendrils of blonde hair that curled around her face. Wilmot’s eyes followed her every move.

  ‘Yes, yes, of course. Perhaps I could suggest – Would you consider – I could drive you to some of these places myself?’

  Sue smiled and widened her eyes. ‘Oh, that would be so kind. But I can’t expect you to do that. You must be such a busy man?’

  ‘No, it’s part of my job to... Well, it’s a public relations function. I would be honoured to escort you.’

  ‘We could make it a real day out, I could take you to lunch. Perhaps Mrs Wilmot might like to come along?’ Sue said sweetly, gesturing toward the photograph of the iron-faced woman on his desk.

  ‘No!’ Wilmot cleared his throat. ‘That is, Mrs Wilmot is in Australia at the moment.’

  ‘Oh,’ Sue whispered in her little-girl-lost voice, ‘so it will just be you and me?’

  Wilmot’s gaze roamed over her body, his forehead glossy with sweat. A few seconds passed before he realised she was watching him. When he saw her eyes on him, a blush burnt his fair skin.

  They arranged a time and place. Sue turned to leave. ‘Thank you so much, I’m so looking forward to our next meeting.’

  James Wilmot was reluctant to stand up and see her out of his office and Sue almost laughed out loud. It wouldn’t do for a bank manager to be seen sporting an impressive erection under his sober suit. She gave herself a mental high five as she swept out of the bank.

  ***

  At the end of a week of game farm visits, James Wilmot was bewitched. His favourite moments had been when Sue pretended to be frightened of elephants, hiding her face against his chest whenever they appeared.

  ‘James,’ she had whimpered, ‘just hold me. I’m scared, they’re just so... so... well, big...’

  When she re-enacted these scenes for Julia later, they both collapsed with laughter.

  ‘The poor devil doesn’t stand a hope with you in those khaki bush shorts,’ Julia said. ‘They look as if they’ve been painted on. Indecent! And as for this Wonder Bra, it’s actually pornographic.’

  Sue shrugged. ‘Good. I’m taking him to dinner tomorrow night,’ she said. ‘I’m going a few steps further.’

  ‘Be careful,’ Julia warned.

  ‘Don’t be stupid. He’s totally harmless. I’m going to give him a bit of excitement and get some information, that’s all. Easy.’

  Sue sprayed her body liberally with Chanel No. 5, straightened her hair and wore a revealing black dress. It worked. James Wilmot stood with proud excitement when she walked into the restaurant and planted a kiss on his cheek.

  ‘This dinner is a big thank you for all your kindness this week,’ she said softly. ‘What would I have done without you?’

  Wilmot swallowed audibly and blinked rapidly a few times. Were those tears in his eyes?

  ‘It’s truly been a pleasure. More than a pleasure.’

  Sue worked her seduction act on Wilmot all evening. He was desperate for her. Lust rose from him in clouds every time he looked at her.

  ‘Tell me about your children, James,’ Sue asked, guiding the conversation onto a more personal level.

  ‘I’ve got two daughters in Australia,’ he said truthfully. He didn’t mention his six grandchildren. Sue had counted them on the photographs on his desk.

  ‘I’ve always wanted a family,’ she said wistfully. ‘I never had the opportunity.’

  ‘You deserve one.’ James Wilmot reached across the table and took her hand. ‘I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but I feel so close to you after this week. I find you so very attractive,’ he said tentatively. ‘I’ve never met a woman like you before.’

  I bet you haven’t.

  ‘Thank you, James, I find you terribly attractive.’ She leaned across the table and offered him her lips.

  He pressed his mouth to hers reverently, then sat back in his chair with such a look of joy that Sue almost felt sorry for him.

  But not quite sorry enough.

  ‘L
ook,’ she said, ‘I’ve got a suggestion. I hope you don’t think it’s too bold, but why don’t you come over for supper tomorrow night? I’ll cook. We can relax and get to know each other better.’

  For a few moments James Wilmot appeared to be struck dumb by her suggestion. Then he squared his shoulders, his eyes brightened and he smiled in total delight.

  He was pitiful, putty in her hands.

  The following evening Sue locked Julia into her bedroom at the back of the house. ‘I can’t afford anything to go wrong,’ she said. ‘Don’t move around or make any more noise than you have to. He has to think I’m a poor little widow, all on my own. Understand?’

  Julia nodded. Sue was still the boss.

  At seven sharp, Sue met James at the door. She wore a clinging turquoise dress designed to stop a man dead in his tracks. Inside the warm cottage, was a smell of delicious food. Sue had arranged fragrant bowls of flowers, and deep white sofas invited James Wilmot to sink back and relax. Candles flickered on every surface and the music in the background was slow and romantic.

  ‘We’ll have dinner early shall we?’ Sue said.

  James nodded, speechless.

  ‘After dinner, I thought we could play a game.’

  ‘A game?’

  ‘Yes, Twister, my favourite.’

  ‘Is it a card game?’

  ‘No, not cards. We give forfeits.’

  Now James was perspiring. He loosened his tie. ‘Forfeits?’

  ‘Yes, you can ask anything of me if you win your round. I can do the same.’

  The room seemed marinated in a warm apricot glow. James drank the whisky Sue gave him in one mouthful.

  ‘Anything I want?’ His voice was harsh.

  ‘Anything.’ Sue sank into the sofa and nestled close to him. Her chin touched his shoulder. ‘You’ve been so kind to me. What would I do without you?’ She wriggled against him, the turquoise dress riding up her long legs.

  James drew her close and tried to kiss her, but she moved away at the last minute.

  ‘Just going to serve dinner.’

  She fetched a tray bearing steaming bowls of soup from the kitchen. James Wilmot looked around the room; Sue could see he was captivated by the scene. The stone fireplace full of blazing logs, the low-beamed ceiling, the magnificent woman who had chosen to share it all with him. She could see heaven in his eyes.