Poacher (24 page)

He watched television all afternoon, and
started his preparations at eight in the evening. By the time he
left for the casino, there were new personnel on duty at reception
and nobody gave him a second glance. In the casino he circulated,
watching the crowd intently. In the subdued lighting nobody paid
any attention to the bearded giant, moving from table to table and
spending money as if it was going out of fashion. Nobody, that is,
except some very luscious ladies, whose means of earning a living
depended on their ability to spot the right customer. The third one
that flaunted herself at him was a rare beauty, and he made up his
mind. Sam told her where he was staying, and went to his room to
wait. Ten minutes later, there was a knock on his door, and he let
her in.

‘Well, lover, how do you want it?’ She
started disrobing without preamble.

‘Hold on. Sit down, and let’s have a talk
first.’

‘Oh no. You ask me once what a nice girl like
me is doing in a place like this, and I’m off. You know what this
“talk first” is going to cost you, buster?’

‘Cut the crap and sit down,’ Sam said,
dropping a hundred rand on the table. It disappeared into her small
handbag as if by magic.

‘OK, so we talk. You going to tell me about
the wife that doesn’t understand you? Even a good marriage
counsellor might be cheaper.’

‘I want to talk strictly business. I have a
proposition for you, which will mean quite a lot of money if you do
it right.’

‘Listen, buddy, with the type of merchandise
I am selling, I don’t need a manager. Least of all, one with a
false beard and a glue-on moustache. Most probably a wig, too.’

‘Well, um.’ Sam patted his beard, and felt a
complete ass. Definitely not his scene. This was a sharp one
indeed. ‘You are remarkably observant.’

‘In my job, I have to be. Were you going to
offer your services as my manager?’

‘As a matter of fact, no.’

‘I thought as much. You’re obviously not very
used to doing this. I am beginning to think you are way out of your
depth, whatever it is you are trying to achieve. Can I leave
now?’

‘No, wait. Do you recognise this man?’ He
produced the photograph.

‘What are you, some kind of cop? I’m not an
informer – bad for business,’ she said, without looking at the
photograph.

‘I am not a cop, and I don’t want any
information from you. I want you to pass a message to this man. It
is so important to me, that I am willing to pay five hundred rand
for your effort.’

She grabbed the photograph, and he mistook
the fleeting flare in her eyes for a token of greed. ‘Yes, he was
here a couple of weeks or months ago. Quite a few girls will
remember him. Rutting around like a compound harvester in heat, but
a very big spender. What do you want with him?’

‘He is going to be here either tomorrow or
Saturday. Get him into his room and give him this.’ Sam extracted a
thick envelope from under his pillow. ‘Leave immediately, while he
is reading the document, otherwise he will most probably follow you
and try to get more information out of you. You won’t enjoy that.
Then you go down to the casino, where I will meet you to give you
the other half of your money. Then stop working for the evening and
go straight home. I guarantee that he will leave Swaziland the
moment the Mozambican border post opens.’

‘Hell, this sounds dangerous. That costs
more. And the fact that I will have to stop working for the night
is also going to cost more.’ She grinned and held out her hand.

‘You are so very right when you say you don’t
need a manager. At this rate, I suppose you own some property
around here, too.’ He put five hundred rand in the outstretched
hand. ‘Collect another five after delivery. And don’t give him any
explanations or descriptions. Just deliver and disappear.’

She was looking very please as she got up.
‘It’s a pleasure doing business with you. Call again any time.’

While Sam was sleeping fitfully during the
early morning hours, the contents of the envelope were being
transmitted on one of the very few fax machines in Swaziland.

He spent a long, boring day in his room, and
stayed in the casino till it closed at three am the next morning.
No Joao, but the lithe body was very much in evidence, cruising the
casino, and disappearing occasionally, but never for more than
thirty minutes at a time. She had a bigger handbag this time, but
did not approach him.

Saturday was the same, up to nine in the
evening. Even in the poor light of the casino, Sam recognised him
the moment he walked in. He had trouble subduing the overwhelming
urge to pounce on Joao and throttle him with his bare hands.
Instead, he retreated further into the shadows, and watched.

The lifestyle of the idle rich appealed to
Joao. On his return to Mozambique, Courie’s contacts had looked
after him well, whisking him from safe house to safe house, never
allowing him to stay in one place for more than few days at a time.
The Chinaman had given him an envelope containing thirty thousand
rand in cash, with instructions to meet Courie in Swaziland in six
weeks time, once things had started cooling off.

Following instructions, he had proceeded to
enjoy himself with great gusto. Most of the time, he was not even
in a safe house but, instead, he shacked up with the dame of the
day. Word of Courie’s disappearance had reached him towards the end
of the six weeks, plunging him into a state of uncertainty. Nobody
had a clue of where, how or why. Had the SA police grabbed him,
they would have flaunted it in the papers to a point of nausea. It
was a complete mystery and Joao did not really know how to handle
the situation. Fact remained, however, that the man still owed him
some money, and then, there was still the matter of the rhino and
Jenkins.

He had decided to go to Swaziland anyway, but
to go a day earlier, and to keep on his running shoes, as it were.
He had booked in at a hotel in Manzini, and kept an eye on the Spa,
staying out of sight. By Saturday evening he had still not spotted
anything out of the ordinary, and decided to go into the casino,
looking for Courie.

It took him a while to work his way through
the mass of people, and his spirits sank even further as he
progressed. There was no sign of Courie.

‘Hello, hadsome. Remember me?’ Very seductive
voice at his elbow, and a soft touch on the back of his hand.

He hardly recognised her presence. ‘Hello,
beautiful. Not tonight, I’m busy.’

‘I’ve got something for you.’

‘Yeah, I’ve got something for you too, but
not tonight.’

She pulled his sleeve and whispered in his
ear. ‘A very important message, oh great hunter.’

He froze in his tracks and looked at her
properly for the first time. The stunner. They had made ferocious
love on his previous visit, and he remembered bragging about his
accomplishments in his post-coital stupor. Must have made quite an
impression if she still remembered.

He looked around furtively. ‘Give.’

‘Not here, baby, in your room.’

‘I am not booked in here.’

For a moment she was at a loss. ‘Wait for me
right here.’

At reception some money changed hands, and
she headed back to the casino with a key in her hand. ‘Come up to
room 2131 in a minute,’ she whispered and disappeared.

As he walked in, she gave him a thick
envelope and walked out.

He grabbed her arm. ‘Where do you think you
are going?’

‘I’ve got a long night’s work ahead of me,
lover. Judging by the looks of that envelope, it is going to take
you a while to work your way through that message. Once you’re
through, come down to the casino and maybe we can have some fun.
The bleached little man with the goatee who gave me that was quite
a bundle of fun himself.’

Courie! Joao immediately lost all interest in
the woman, and helped her out the door. She proceeded down to the
casino and collected her other five hundred, grinning all the
way.

‘Straight home for an early night, now,’ Sam
reminded her.

‘You are so kind, sir,’ and she pecked him on
the hairy cheek chastely. She then headed straight for
debriefing.

Joao tore the envelope open with trembling
fingers. Inside, there was R5000 in fifties, and a typed
letter.

Dear Joao,

By now word of my predicament may have reached
you.

There is a group of greedy men in our midst, trying
to take over our little venture, so do not trust anyone. I have
identified some of them, and I suspect our usual channels of
communication are also unsafe. As you may know by now, I am wanted
for police questioning. I need your help to get out of the country.
Use the money to lay on safe transport and accommodation on the
Mozambican side. Once there, I can get to Luanda easily, from where
we can destroy this nest of vipers.

As you are an expert in these things, I will leave
the detail up to you. I thought it best to cross in a place you are
familiar with, so I will be waiting at our secret drop-off point at
10 a.m. on this coming Wednesday. I have to urge you once more to
be very careful and trust absolutely no one. We will do this thing
on our own.

Your friend.

The letter was not signed, but Joao didn’t
expect Courie to put his name to anything at this stage. If Courie
was in danger, then so was he. He sneaked back to his hotel, and
left first thing in the morning, like the bearded man had
predicted.

On his way back, Sam could not resist the
temptation to stop in Nelspruit and phone Estelle again in his
elation. When he told her that the whole thing was going to be
settled within a couple of days, she caught him completely off
sides when she sounded tearful. ‘Sam, please leave it to the
authorities. I have a bad feeling about this.’

‘Estelle, this isn’t something I can leave to
somebody else. It is between him and me, and we will now settle it
once and for all. Please don’t worry, I’ll be very careful. I love
you.’

There was a prolonged silence.

‘Estelle?’

‘Sam, I want to see you.’

He felt as if he had touched a high tension
wire. For a moment he was at a loss for words. ‘Estelle, you really
mean that?’

‘Sam, I have gone through a very difficult
time. You broke my heart, and you made me cry till there were no
more tears. For the past months I have made every effort to learn
to hate you. It’s no use. I love you. And now you are going to get
yourself killed. I don’t think I could handle that. We were going
to get married next Saturday, remember?’

‘Stay right there, don’t go away.’ In his
haste he broke the connection, but failed to replace the phone
properly. He ignored the dangling instrument and ran for the
Alfa.

Two hours later and sixty kilometres from
Pretoria, the cop materialised from behind the thick pillars of a
fly-over and held his left hand up authoritatively. With a curse
Sam stood the Alfa on its nose, smoke boiling from the tyres. He
reversed to where the cop was standing in the road, talking on his
two-way radio.

Sam knew he had plenty of trouble coming his
way, and decided not to antagonise the man. ‘Morning, officer. How
bad is the news?’

‘Morning. Just about as bad as it can get. Up
to 160 kilometres an hour the fine is four hundred rand. Above 160
we arrest the offender, and he has to appear in court. You have
just been clocked at 204.’

‘No, please, listen,’ Sam was out of the car.
‘Please, look at me. I am on my knees. A fine, any fine, just
please don’t make me spend hours filling in forms and trying to
find lawyers. I am on my way to my fiancée in Pretoria. The
forthcoming marriage was the rocks before we have even started, and
we have just made up. Please, if I don’t pitch up now, I will
probably die a bachelor one day. Please, save my life and give me a
fine.’

The cop looked at him sceptically. He would
rather also stay here and nail some more speed freaks, than cart
this guy into town and spend the rest of the day filling out forms.
‘Hang on.’ He turned his back on Sam and walked away a short
distance, talking into the radio. After arguing for a while, he
returned, pulling out his book. ‘Right, a fine it will be.
Name?’

Sam had no option but to wait anxiously while
the cop wrote slowly and laboriously, the tip of his tongue
occasionally emerging in concentration. Eventually he tore the
ticket out with a flourish, and handed it to Sam. Sam folded the
ticket over five hundred rand and handed it back to the cop. In a
reflex moment the cop accepted the proffered paper, and only
realised what it was, once he had it in his hands. ‘No you can’t
pay here. You have to pay at your nearest police station.’ He held
the bundle out to Sam again, but he was already pulling away.

‘I live in the bush, officer, there are no
police stations. And thanks again.’

‘Hey, you can’t do this. Hey! Come back
here!’

Sam was already in third gear when he looked
into the mirror and smiled. In the distance, the cop was still in
the middle of the road, waving the bundle of paper above his head
frantically, as if he was seeing off a loved one going on an
extended ocean cruise.

When he screeched to a halt in front of the
Fishers’ house, Estelle was standing in the open front door. He got
out and looked at her over the roof of the car. As he walked up to
her, she touched her hair with her left hand on purpose. She saw in
his eyes that he immediately recognised the engagement ring that
was back on the correct finger.

She smiled at him. ‘Do you mind?’

‘Not as long as it’s mine,’ he countered,
sweeping her off her feet and holding her. She clung to him with a
desperation akin to that of a baby baboon clinging to its mother in
flight. ‘Oh Sam, I have missed you ever so much. Never leave me
again. I forgive you everything. Let us start all over again.’