The first thing on my agenda is to have a word with Jerry. I’ve been looking for him ever since the burglary at Valentina’s old flat, the scruffy bachelor apartment I now own. The cockroach has been hiding from the day I took Valentina, but now that Magda has found him, he crawled out of the drainpipes, thinking he’s safe from me. There are things that don’t add up, and I want answers.
As per my instruction, Rhett and Quincy follow in the Merc. I needed privacy for the call I made to Ms. Botha. They park behind me in front of Jerry’s building. The beggars on the sidewalk recognize my face. They scatter when I exit. From windows higher up, mothers shout in Xhosa and Sotho for their children to run inside.
Scott, my mother’s bodyguard, gets out of the Merc with my two guys. This wasn’t the plan.
He greets me with a curt nod. “Mr. Louw.”
“Scott,” I say, acknowledging him, and turn to Rhett. “What’s the meaning of this?”
“Mrs. Louw sent him with us.”
My mother has never sent a babysitter before, and she didn’t send Scott out of motherly concern for my wellbeing. I’ve been in situations a lot more dangerous than this one. In any event, we’re here, and I don’t want to waste time.
“Quincy, stay with the cars,” I instruct. We may be feared, but some dumb idiot or teenager on a drug high may get it into his head to steal the vehicles or the tires.
“Yes, boss.” He takes out his gun, making sure it’s visible.
“You guys come with me.”
We climb the rusted steps to Jerry’s floor. I pull my gun while Rhett bangs on the door.
“Who is it?” a voice calls from inside.
I don’t feel like breaking down a door, today, so I cock my head at Scott who replies.
“It’s Mrs. Louw’s guy, Scott.”
The key turns in the lock, and the door swings open. The minute the cockroach sees me, he reverses the action, trying to shut the door, but my foot is already wedged between the wall and the wood.
Knowing he’s trapped, he swallows and backs up into the room. “What do you want?”
We enter the interior that looks and smells surprisingly clean.
“I’d like to ask you a few questions.” I close the door and lock it.
His eyes follow the action. “About what?”
“Where were you hiding these last few months?”
“I wasn’t hiding.”
“No?” I move around the room, taking in the shelf above the television stacked with decks of cards and an early edition of Monopoly. I love this edition. Eloff Street, one of the main arteries of Hillbrow, is still a prized property in this board game.
“I was visiting family,” he says, his eyes darting between Rhett, Scott, and me.
“Right.” I lift the Monopoly lid. All the pieces, including the car, hat, shoe, iron, and cat, are there. “Or maybe you ran because you thought after taking Valentina I’d come for you.”
He utters a nervous laugh. “Hey, I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“You took Charlie gambling, didn’t you?”
His face pales a shade, but he keeps up the bravado. “Where’s the sin in that?”
“Let’s see.” I take out the silver cat and study it in the light. “Maybe the fact that he’s got brain damage and doesn’t know the meaning of debt?”
The way he licks his lips reminds me of a lizard catching flies. “I don’t understand.”
“What don’t you get?”
“Why are you here, asking about this?”
“Who broke into Valentina’s flat?”
“I only heard about it from the neighbors. I told you, I wasn’t here.”
I advance on him, swinging the gun by the trigger guard. “Why did you give Valentina a stolen car?”
“Because I felt bad, okay?”
“Bad about getting her and her brother killed?”
He backtracks until his legs hit the couch. “You killed them?”
“I was going to, but you knew that.”
“I didn’t know for sure.” He lifts his palms. They’re sweaty and shaking. “Look, I didn’t know a goddamn thing. I only did what your mother told me to do.”
I freeze. I heard him perfectly well, but reflex makes me ask, “What?”
At the same time the word leaves my mouth, a shot rings out.
6
Gabriel
The body remains standing for two beats before it falls backward onto the couch. Jerry’s corpse is staring wide-eyed at the ceiling, his mouth forever shut.
Slowly, I turn. Scott has his gun raised. The barrel is still smoking.
Anger makes my jaw lock tight. It takes three calming breaths before I can speak. “What the hell just happened?”
Scott lowers his weapon. “He was disrespectful.”
If Scott was my man, I’d put a bullet in his brain, but he answers to Magda. In two strides I’m in front of him. I can’t shoot him, but it doesn’t mean I can’t do this. I pull back and plant a fist under his jaw, sending him crashing into the coffee table.
Rhett aims his gun at Scott. His first priority is protecting me. Scott may be working for my mother, but, right now, in Rhett’s eyes, he’s an enemy. One wrong move and the curly head is dead. Scott knows it. From where he lies on the floor, he drops his weapon and raises his hands.