Chapter 34
Bo arrived in Mawabane well after dark. The square opposite the palace was well lit, and still swarming with people. He pulled the car alongside the kerb, and got out, pulling his crutches from the back seat. He hobbled along the pavement, looking for an hotel. When he got to a restaurant with tables on the open frontage he saw a hanging sign Rooms for rent, en suite.
He walked through into the restaurant area. He saw a counter at the far end. An old cash register stood on it, and further along piles of plates, a tray of crockery. Part of the counter was used as a dumb waiter. He stopped against the cash register, and an old man, smart in bow tie, white shirt and dinner jacket came out of a door to the rear, saw Bo standing there.
“Sir, can I help you?”
“I’m looking for a room, probably only for one night,” said Bo.
“Come through, and I will show you the accommodation.”
The old man led the way down a short corridor, and out into the open air. They were in an enclosed open court illuminated by wall lights. Moths fluttered round each bulb. On one side of the square were rooms with separate doors and windows. They might have been stables at one time in the past, but had been restored and altered. The man pulled out keys from his pocket, opened one of the doors about half way down the court, switched on lights inside the room, and took Bo inside.
The room contained a double bed, dresser, small TV, wardrobe. A door of led to a bathroom with shower. “How much?” asked Bo.
“Two hundred rand, including breakfast in the café.”
“I’ll take it,” said Bo, and took out two one hundred rand notes. The man gave him the key, and walked back to the café. Bo stripped off his clothes and showered. He had no razor, and his face was stubbly. He dressed again in his clothes, walked back to the café, and out into the square. He took one of the tables on the sidewalk, ordered a coffee. He had a good view of the palace, but it was across the square, and traffic often obscured the view. But he watched for visitors emerging, or even entering through the main gate. He sat there for over two hours, and in all that time he saw no-one using the gates. Inside sentries paraded back and forth, a useless task.
His time was not wasted sitting at the table. As he sat he also thought, planning how to catch McBride. Once he had him, he would tie him up and keep him in the hotel room, gagged. Then he would walk boldly across the road. Enter the palace. Request audience with the king, and announce the kidnapping. Getting to see the king would, he imagined, be easy. After all, he wasn’t important. It was a small tin-pot country.
Eventually, long after midnight, the café closed. The waiter told him they would be locking the doors. He could sit there at the table if he liked, but he would not be able to use his bedroom. When he heard this, Bo stood up, and went to his room, through the now dark café and out into the relatively welllit courtyard.
Once he got into bed he carried on making plans for the next day. Plans that became more unworkable, until he fell asleep at four in the morning.
He woke with a start at seven o’clock, the sun shining across his face through the window. He had forgotten to draw the curtains. He was pleased to be awake. He needed to take his breakfast outside at a café table and resume watching for McBride, of whom he had but a brief glimpse in the service area yesterday. He found an iron in one of the drawers, and an ironing board in the wardrobe. He ironed his suit, and shirt. Rubbed his shoes with a duster he found in another drawer. He dressed and went out for breakfast.
The old man was up and about in the café, and bid him good morning. There were a smattering of customers both inside and outside the café. He chose a convenient table on the sidewalk and sat down. A waiter was quick to serve him. Afterwards, he sat with a cup of coffee and a copy of the local paper which he hardly glanced at. He held it up in front of him, but he was staring over the newspaper at the palace gates.
The Ponzi Men Page 34
