Tandia

by Bryce Courtenay

  Several weeks and then a couple of months went by and Mr Nguni still hadn't surfaced. By this time Red was convinced he was dead and the best chance they'd ever had to get Jannie Geldenhuis had been frustrated, probably by Geldenhuis himself. The Nguni connection had not been made by the newspapers and so the disappearance of the well-known black man had only been paid minor attention by the media. Nguni had a relatively low profile to the whites and was only really known in boxing circles. In due course the police announced they had no new information but were pursuing their enquiries, the usual official euphemism for a case book which was about to be closed or at least given a low priority.

  Peekay's shoulders mended quite quickly to the point where he could use his arms, but the muscles still pained him a good deal and had grown weak from lack of use. He decided to go back to the gym to build up his strength and to regain a modicum of fitness. The Rand Club to which he belonged had a small gym which would have suited this purpose perfectly but he chose instead to return to Solly Goldman's boxing gym.

  The two men embraced warmly when Peekay arrived at the sleazy downtown gym. 'It's good to 'ave ya back, my son.' Solly said. Then trying to cover his obvious emotion he rubbed his hands together. 'Right, Champ, give us a coupla months and I'll 'ave ya ready for a shot at the bleedin' title.'

  Peekay smiled. He saw Solly from time to time, but not often enough. The inventor of the Solly Goldman thirteen-punch combination had been one of the more important people in Peekay's fife. Now he held Solly at arm's length pretending to examine him. 'You know, Solly, when I started with you at fifteen you wore that same frayed brown striped tie to hold up those same baggy grey flannel trousers. I'm not sure it wasn't even the same sweatshirt, I swear I remember that egg stain!'

  Peekay started working with weights trying to build up his shoulder muscles where they'd been torn by the explosion. But one thing led to another and in a couple of months he was spending time with the young fighters in the gym most nights after he was finished at Red, boxing with them in the ring, demonstrating punches and correcting their technique. He was never one to do anything by halves and he began to put a lot more into his early-morning road work, building his wind and his legs. Pretty soon he was back to the welterweight limit and his body was hard and fit again.

  Almost four months after the explosion and the death of Mama Tequila, Tandia got a telephone call late one afternoon from Madam Flame Flo. 'Listen, Tandy, I know you already coming over Thursday but something funny has come up, jong. Do you think you could come and see me tonight?'

  'It will have to be late, Auntie Flo. About nine o'clock, I'll get Johnny Tambourine to drive me. No I won't, I'll drive myself and stay the night.'

  'No, man, bring him, he can stay in the room in the yard. What I got to say, maybe he can help.'

  Tandia was working on a case with Peekay and she'd set aside two hours that evening to go through the briefing with him. She glanced at her watch; it was nearly six o'clock, he'd be coming in any minute. She fumbled in her handbag for her compact. Peekay was the last guy in the world who would notice whether she'd put on fresh lipstick or not, but the operation of fixing her make-up helped her confidence. Ever since the death of Mama Tequila she'd been awkward; no, not so much awkward, but on edge, nervous, when she was alone with Peekay.

  Nothing had been said about the afternoon of the explosion when, in her panic and distress, she'd blurted out her love for him. In fact, later when she'd had the courage to face the incident herself she was genuinely surprised at her outburst. Her love for him was so fraught with impossible implications that she'd buried it deep in her subconscious. Tandia was not a dreamer. Mama Tequila had taught her to keep her eyes focussed on the hard edge of reality, only to gamble with resources she was prepared to lose. Loving Peekay, no matter how covert, was well beyond any such resources, and when she'd declared her love for him immediately after the explosion, it was her heart and not her head which had betrayed her. She was determined that this should never happen again.

  Peekay had tried on several occasions to talk with her when they'd appeared to be alone but she'd resisted, either leaving the room on some hastily fabricated excuse or talking over him about some or other legal concern. She could see his frustration, but she had to lead in this matter. She was stronger than him and knew that even the smallest declaration of his reciprocal love, the merest suggestion, would lead to disaster.

  Mama Tequila's death had had a surprising effect on her. She found that she'd relied on the old woman more than ever she'd thought pOSSible. Mama Tequila was like an old coastal freighter; battered and weathered by the storms of life, it always knew the quickest way to a safe port or the best way to ride out a storm. You could focus on her, knowing that she'd calculated the odds and prepared for the disaster at the slightest sign of a change in the barometer reading.

  The old girl had also been proved right about Nguni. The black tycoon's demise had shattered Tandia's confidence in men even further and added to the awkwardness she felt with Peekay and Hymie. There hadn't been the slightest suggestion from either partner that her friendship with him had delayed Angel Sport's disassociation with the black businessman, but she now knew this to be true. Nguni would not have been present at the Solomon Levy Christmas party had Hymie acted when he'd first decided to do so. Tandia tormented herself with this and with the fact that Mama Tequila might still be alive had she not been so stubborn about her relationship with Nguni.

  It concerned her that she was still looking for Patel's approbation, that she'd never been able to do without him in her life, that she'd always needed a father figure, an older man; Juicey Fruit Mambo, Or Rabin, Magistrate Coetzee and finally Mr Nguni. The little girl who had been starved so early of the love of her father seemed to spend her life trying to regain it, the wonderful safety of a love that was protective without being physical.

  Despite his outward appearances of gentleness, Peekay was a man with needs who would want to possess her for herself, body, mind and soul. He was a possessor of a one-eyed snake she couldn't ignore.

  All the other men, the. father figures in her life, had wanted something from her, Juicey Fruit Mambo to protect her, Dr Rabin to assuage his Jewish- guilt and feed his intelligence, Magistrate Coetzee to confound his own racist beliefs and, finally, the ambitious and calculating Nguni who wanted her to sharpen his aspirations and show off in front of his peers.

  Peekay would want nothing and everything and everything was much too much. Tandia told herself she would not give herself to Peekay ever. It was making him understand this without coming out and declaring it bluntly to him, making him somehow understand that what was going on between them was unrequited love, that she would not be going to England with him should they decide to leave, that she had already been drawn into the fight for freedom beyond the passive and almost useless pursuit of the law. She was tired of tilting at windmills and the time had come for her to join Gideon and to take direct action.

  Tandia now realized that her love for Gideon had been an infatuation which she had allowed to grow into a habit. Now that this pressure had been taken from her she liked him even more as her leader. Though she'd only seen him once since his return, his work was everywhere and, under his command, Umkonto we Sizwe was beginning to look like a concerted and determined force.

  Tandia told herself that her need to hate was infinitely more important than any other emotional commitment she might have in her life and that with Nguni she had finally sloughed off her need for even a father figure in her life. She was on her own and her teeth were sharp. For the time being this was enough, she had all the emotional baggage it was possible to carry.

  She made sure that the briefing to Peekay filled the two hours she'd allowed for it and when they concluded and Peekay asked her if she could stay a little longer she was able to plead her visit to Madam Flame Flo.

  'Tandia, we must talk. You've been avoiding me ever si
nce the explosion.' They'd taken to referring to it as 'the explosion' to avoid the pain of Mama Tequila's death. 'I want you to know that I…'

  'Peekay, it was a mistake! An emotional outburst brought on by my anxiety at the time; my relief that you were alive was such that my mind found the wrong words. Please, Peekay, as a friend I cherish you more than I can say.' Tandia took a deep breath, looking directly at him, 'But that's all there can ever be between us.'

  Johnny Tambourine picked her up at eight o'clock and they set out for the hour or so's drive to Vereeniging. Madam Flame FlO gave them the usual big welcome. She set the table for supper and invited Johnny Tambourine to join them. The little woman always prepared a feast and he'd been thinking about it most of the way from Johannesburg. Madam Flame Flo allowed them to eat before she talked, fussing over Tandia, making her eat more than she would have done on her own. When she'd served coffee she relaxed for the first time and began to talk.

  'You remember the Taj Mahal night club?' she asked Tandia.

  Tandia smiled. 'How could I ever forget it; that's where I met Gideon.'

  'Well I never told you, but Mr Nguni and a woman named Baby Shabooti and myself, we owned it. I don't want to go into the details, but it never worked, the three of us. I was convinced that Nguni, who was responsible for the hard spirits we bought from outside and smuggled in, was taking a cut and not sharing it, so I sold my share to Baby Shabooti. She and Nguni, they had a thing, so it was okay between them. When Sophiatown was no more she opened a lot of shebeens in Soweto and made a lot of money and built a big house, the biggest in the whole place, double storey with everything hot and cold. I'm telling you, man, you name a convenience she got it, even two of it! She and Nguni, they broke up I thought after the Taj Mahal. But yesterday she calls me on the telephone. Maybe she calls me once a year, maybe not even so much. She tells me she wants me to sign a paper.' Madam Flame Flo looked up. 'A long time ago we bought a garage, you know a service station, and when we broke up they paid me my share okay, but I forgot to sign the paper. Now she wants me to sign. "Ja, of course," I say, "no problems, I'm going over to Meadowlands Friday, I'll come by your house and sign."

  "No!" she says, like I caught her by surprise, "I'll send it over to you.'"

  Madam Flame Flo looked at them expectantly. 'Is that all?'

  Tandia asked, 'She didn't say any more?'

  'Tandy, that's enough, man! That woman she spends her life showing off her house. She is the biggest brag artist in Soweto! It wouldn't surprise me one of these days she sells tickets! Guided tours to see the bathroom taps! If she didn't want me to come to her place so she can rub my nose in what she got, the new velvet curtains, maybe a new lounge suite, everything matching, then there is something wrong, man. I'm telling you something for nothing, there is something very funny going on, jong.' She took a deep breath, 'You know what's going on?' Tandia and Johnny both looked at her expectantly. 'You go in that house, you find Nguni!'

  'That's a big leap in logic, Auntie Flo.' Tandia said.

  'Never mind logic, you hear? I'm telling you I'm right! But I also did something else. I called two friends who see her sometimes, you know once a month maybe. We talked about this and that, then I asked, "How's Baby Shabooti?"

  They both said the same thing, they haven't been to her place for four months!' Madam Flame Flo clapped her hands together gleefully, 'You want to make a bet I'm right, hey?'

  The four boys waited until Baby Shabooti left in her big Pontiac convertible, sitting in the back with the hood down, her chauffeur even wearing a cap, before they approached the house. Johnny Tambourine walked round to the back door, tapping politely on the wire screen door. Directly behind it was a burglar-proof door of steel bars and he could see a fat woman, no doubt the cook, working at the stove. She turned at the sound of his tapping to look at him.

  Johnny stood with his cap in both hands. 'Please mama, I am looking for work?'

  The big woman wiped her hands on her apron and approached the door. 'There is no…'

  Johnny Tambourine removed the cap with his left hand so that she was looking directly into the gun. 'Open the door, mama, you will not be hurt.'

  The woman, eyes big with fright, unlocked the burglar-proof door. Johnny whistled sharply and entered. Flyspeck and Dog Poep emerged from the side of the house and entered the kitchen with him. Dog Poep was carrying a canvas bag and both were wearing balaclavas over their faces. Too Many Fingers Bembi had been left outside to warn them with a sharp whistle should anyone approach.

  'Are you alone? Who else is here?' Johnny asked.

  'A man, he is sleeping in the big bedroom. Please do not kill me,' she pleaded.

  'Take her and tie her up, not here - someplace, maybe the bathroom.' Johnny said to Dog Poep. He said to the woman, 'Please mama, do not scream or make a noise and we will not harm you, you understand?'

  Johnny and Flyspeck found the room they were looking for after the third try. They opened the door quietly to see Nguni fast asleep on a double bed. Both waved at their noses; the room smelled of brandy and sick and Nguni was either asleep or passed out on the double bed. He'd kicked the blankets off and lay in the nude, his huge stomach raising and lowering with each breath. He was snoring horribly and seemed to have gained weight since the last time they saw him. The boys looked at each other, grinning. They couldn't believe their luck. Nguni was out to the world and there would be plenty of time to set up.

  They crept to either side of the bed and Johnny Tambourine nudged an old-fashioned porcelain chamber pot half-filled with sour sick under the bed with his toe. He whispered to Flyspeck to set the tape recorder up. An empty bottle of Cape brandy stood on the console beside the bed and another half filled, but there didn't seem to be a glass. When Flyspeck was ready, Johnny Tambourine reached over and slapped Nguni hard across the face. To his surprise the huge man grunted but remained asleep. 'Jesus, he's unconscious, man,' Johnny said in a loud whisper. Flyspeck brought back his hand, indicating that Johnny should hit him again. This time the blow was even harder. Nguni jerked up and his eyes opened, though his face showed no surprise and his eyes were unfocussed. Johnny hit him again with the flat of his hand and, grunting, Nguni came to.

  'Who? Who are you?' he said thickly, not yet seeing the gun.

  'Sit up, Nguni!' Johnny said.

  Nguni opened his mouth, about to protest when he saw the gun and gave a start, his eyes suddenly huge in his head. He pulled himself up into a sitting position, his eyes never once leaving the gun Johnny Tambourine held. Then he looked up slowly, his lips gibbering with fright. But then, just as quickly, his expression changed.

  'It's you, Johnny Tambourine! I thought it was Special Branch. Put your gun away, man, we can talk.' He snapped the gold Rolex off his fat wrist and handed it to Johnny Tambourine. 'Here, take it, I am your friend,' he smiled.

  Johnny took the watch and handed it to Flyspeck. It felt heavy, people said it was real gold. 'We are not friends, Nguni.'

  The large black man must have had the constitution of an ox for he seemed to have recovered instantly, though his eyes were completely bloodshot and his skin puffy from drink. 'Johnny, Tandy is my friend, you are my friend.'

  'No more, man! You killed Mama Tequila.'

  Nguni actually chuckled, his stomach wobbling. 'Why would I do that?' he said, his voice amused.

  'No bullshit, Nguni. We have proof.' Johnny was bluffing. Tandia had simply told him that he was the prime suspect. 'What proof?' Nguni said, raising his head slightly and sticking his jaw out. He was gaining confidence by the second. 'You are lying, Johnny Tambourine! If this was so, they would have said it in the newspapers.'

  Nguni cursed himself. He was still drunk, he'd slipped, his mind wasn't working fast enough, he'd virtually admitted his guilt. He tried to recover, hoping the boys were not very bright. 'I left that place before the explosion.'

  'Why did y
ou run away? Because you are guilty!' Johnny replied for him.

  Nguni shook his head slowly. 'Haya, haya, Johnny, it was my business. There were people who wanted money from me, I couldn't pay them.' He spread his hands. That is the simple reason, man. I am hiding from these people.' Johnny sighed, 'Nguni, we are tsotsi, not lawyers or the police, we do not ask how is a thing? Why?' He pointed the muzzle of his gun in Flyspeck's direction. 'My friend here has been hired by Tandia. He is a killer, a hired gun. But Tandia doesn't want to kill you. "Don't kill him, Johnny," she says. "Tell him only, if he makes a confession we will let him go. If he does not, we will tell Geldenhuis where he is." At the mention of Geldenhuis's name Nguni jerked backwards hitting his head hard against the bedhead. It was so sudden as to be almost ridiculous. The giant Zulu was suddenly out of bluff, unable to hold himself together any longer.

  'That whore!' he spat.

  Johnny and Flyspeck froze, not believing what they'd heard. 'What? What did you say?' Flyspeck said. It was the first time he had spoken.

  'Geldenhuis has a paper, a confession, when she was a schoolgirl she was a whore, isiFebe!' He started to laugh. 'That Geldenhuis, he is a very clever man, so clever he got me a bus transport licence for Soweto. It is not possible for a black man to have a licence, but he fixed it for me.' He spread his hands, squinting up at Johnny Tambourine and Flyspeck Mendoza. 'You can work for me, I will pay you 'well. One day I will be the richest black man in Africa!' He seemed to find this last statement very amusing and started to laugh again, his laughter turning almost immediately into a fit of coughing.

  Nguni leaned forward, his head bent towards his knees. Flyspeck didn't even think, the spoke came out of the seam of his trousers and entered the first and second vertebrae, his wrist turning to sever the nerve and cut through the soft, pulpy tissue. Nguni was dead without having moved. He simply sat slumped over his huge black belly. 'Shit!' Johnny said.

  Flyspeck shrugged and grinned. 'He bad-mouthed Tandy, man!'