Kill or be Killed
Sipho was already on the dive boat when David arrived. He was clasping a leather folder and talking to one of Frank’s divemasters. David shouted out a greeting as he clambered on board.
‘Hi Paul.’
‘Hi, Davo. I liked your pic.’
‘My what?’
‘Your photo, Davo. It’s up on the screens. The girls love it. They’re fighting one another to get in first. Mr Maduna has come to book a couple in so they won’t miss out.’
Paul pointed to a screen above his head.
‘Take a look at that, buddy.’
An image appeared on the screen and David went forward to get a better view. His stomach turned. Someone had created a caricature of his real self. He was reminded of the musclemen that appear on the covers of soft-porn novels. Eye shadow had been applied to his cheeks. His lips were unnaturally red. The muscles on his arms and chest had been thickened and his waist had been slimmed down.
‘They would have photo-shopped it,’ Paul said.
‘Yeah,’ David scowled.
‘It’s lucky they didn’t get you to strip off.’
‘No way!’
‘Some guys pose in the nude,’ Paul continued. ‘You can guess what they do with their pics. The girls must get real disappointed when they come to grips with the real thing.’
David chuckled at the thought. Sipho remained straight-faced. David pictured him as the diligent little boy in missionary school dreaming of a future when he would be wearing smart clothes and not castoffs from other children. Sipho had achieved that goal. His suit would have cost a fortune by many people’s standards.
Paul turned to Sipho.
‘Mr Maduna has just booked in two young ladies for you. I told him he should have done it at the resort but that doesn’t matter. This way they get in first.’
Frank emerged from his cabin.
‘Paul. Get up to the office and see that they get it right. They usually stuff things up. Give them the two names and make sure they enter them up correctly.’
Sipho produced a slip of paper from his folder.
‘I’ve printed out their names for you: Anna and Petra de Villiers. Please note that de Villiers is spelt with a small “d” and there is a space before the “V”, which is capitalised. That is important. Computers are case sensitive.’
Paul took the paper and smiled.
‘I’ll tell them it’s small “d” and big “V”.’
‘And don’t forget the space.’
‘I’ll remember, Mr Maduna.’
Paul left and Frank turned to Sipho.
‘Our friend wants to meet you.’
David followed them into Frank’s cabin. Charlie was there, wearing a grey wig, tied in a ponytail. His accent was American.
‘I must thank you for the invaluable assistance that you have provided in this case, Mr Maduna.’ He grasped Sipho’s hand. ‘I am pleased to make your acquaintance.’
Sipho didn’t waste time with formalities.
‘Can you speak Spanish?’
‘Yep,’ Charlie laid on the accent. ‘I was born and raised in California. That’s one of the languages folks speak there.’
‘I made this recording.’ Sipho produced a small electronic device. ‘I planted a bug in the room occupied by Petra’s cousin, Carla. It is next to the one she is occupying herself.’
Charlie reached out a hand.
‘How do I play it?’
‘Plug it into the USB port on your computer.’
Charlie inserted the device and turned on the sound. David recognised Carla’s shrill tones and those of her mother. Carla was speaking in a mixture of Spanish and English and pouring venom on her cousins. Anna was a fucking cunt and Petra was a fucking virgin. He got that much and was lost in the outpourings of Spanish that followed.
Charlie and Frank grinned then their expressions changed. David guessed that Sipho had reason to believe something sinister was being hatched by the two women. They carried on for over an hour. The clinking of glasses indicated that they were drinking. There were breaks when the toilet was used. Then they would start up again. Eventually, they stopped and Charlie turned off the computer.
Sipho turned anxiously to him.
‘What did they say?’
‘They were discussing Simon de Villiers’ Will.’
‘He’s Petra’s grandfather,’ Frank cut in.
‘Yes,’ Sipho nodded. ‘Simon divided the de Villiers’ estate between his two sons. Carla and her mother were talking about the Will. Carla sometimes used the Afrikaans term for it. Her mother always used the English.’
‘That’s right,’ Frank nodded. ‘According to Carla, the terms of Simon’s Will require that the de Villiers’ holdings remain in the de Villiers family. If one side gets knocked off the other side inherits the lot.’
Sipho’s face tensed. ‘That’s an invitation for murder.’
‘You could see it like that,’ Frank agreed.
‘I doubt if Simon saw his sons as homicidal types,’ Charlie said. ‘Fathers worry about squabbles but rarely think that their children will kill one another to get at the spoils.’
‘They killed Richard,’ Sipho said.
‘We have no proof.’
‘We don’t need proof.’
Sipho glared at Charlie. David had never seen him so animated. Sipho was usually so calm. Now he was fired up.
‘Petra is in great danger,’ he spat out the words. ‘She is Richard’s daughter. After my wife and child, she is my dearest family. That crazy Carla thinks she can get everything by killing Petra and Anna.’
‘Have you seen the Will?’ Charlie asked.
‘No. I have not seen the Will and I don’t know what is in it. That doesn’t matter. It is what that mad woman thinks … that is what matters.’