The telephone on his desk rang, and Manfred snatched it up, expecting it to be Bester again. 'Yes, what is it?' 'Pa, it's me - Lothie.' 'Yes, Lothie. Where are you?' 'Caledon Square. I landed twenty minutes ago, and I have taken over the investigation. There is news, Pa. The divers have found the ferry. There is no sign of the prisoner's body but the cabin door has been forced open. We must assume that he escaped. Worse than that, somebody engineered his escape.' 'Find him,' Manfred said softly. 'You must find Moses Gama. If we don't, the consequences could be disastrous.' 'I know,' Lothar said. 'We will find him. We have to find him.' Centaine refused to eat the food in the parliamentary dining-room.
'It's not that I am fussy, ch6ri, in the desert I ate live locusts and meat that had lain four days in the sun, but --' She and Shasa walked down through the gardens, across the top end of town to the Car Royal on Greenmarket Square, where the first oysters of the season had arrived from Knysna lagoon.
Centaine sprinkled lemon juice and tabasco sauce, scooped a gently pulsating mouthful from the half shell and sighed with pleasure.
'And now, ch6ri,' she dabbed the juice from her lips, 'tell me why yca are so far away that you do not laugh at even my best efforts.' 'I'm sorry, Mater.' Shasa signalled to the waiter to top up his champagne glass. 'I had a strange phone call this morning - and I haven't been able to concentrate on anything else. Do you remember White Sword?' 'How can you ask?' Centaine laid down her fork. 'Sir Garry was more dear to me than my own father. Tell me all about it.' They spoke of nothing else for the rest of the lunch, exploring together ancient memories of that terrible day on which a noble and generous man had died, a man who had been precious to them both.
At last Shasa called for the bill. 'It's half past one already. We will have to hurry to reach the House before it begins. I don't want to miss any part of Verwoerd's speech.' At sixty-six years of age Centaine was still active and agile, and Shasa was not forced to moderate his stride for her. They were still talking animatedly as they passed St George's Cathedral and turned into the gardens.
Ahead of them two men sat on one of the park benches, and there was something about them that caught Shasa's attention even at a distance of a hundred yards. The taller of the pair was a swarthycomplexioned man who wore the uniform of a parliamentary messenger. He sat very stiffly upright and stared straight ahead of him with a fixed expression.
The man beside him was also dark-haired but his face was colourless as putty, the dead black hair fell forward on to his forehead. He was leaning close to the parliamentary messenger, speaking into his ear as though imparting a secret, but the messenger's face was expressionless and he showed not the least reaction to the other man's words.
As they came level with the bench, Shasa leaned forward to see
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past Centaine, and at less than five paces looked directly into tl pale face of the smaller of the men. His eyes were black and impla able as pools of liquid tar, but as Shasa studied him, the m deliberately turned his face away. Yet his lips kept moving, talkir so softly to the man in the parliamentary uniform that Shasa couJ not catch even a murmur of his voice.
Centaine tugged at his sleeve. 'Chri, you are not listening to me 'I'm sorry, Mater,' Shasa apologized absentmindedly.
'I wonder why this woman chose the railway station,' Centair repeated.
'I suppose she feels safer in a public place,' Shasa hazarded, an glanced back over his shoulder. The two men were still on the benct but even in his preoccupation with other things, the passionle, malevolence that Shasa had seen in that tar-black gaze made hir shiver as though an icy wind had blown upon the back of his neck As they turned into the lane that led to the massive edifice of pm liament, Shasa felt suddenly confused and uncertain. There was to, much happening all around him over which he had no control. I was a sensation to which he was not accustomed.
Joe Cicero whispered the formula soly, 'You can feel the worm ii your belly.' 'Yes,' the man beside him replied, staring straight ahead.
Only hi lips moved as he made the reply, 'I can feel the worm.' 'The worm asks if you have the knife.' 'Yes, I have the knife,' said the man. His father had been a Greek and he had been born illegitimate in Portuguese Mozambique of a Mulatto woman. His mixed blood was not apparent. It seemed merely as though he was of Mediterranean extraction. Only Europeans were employed as messengers in the South African parliament.
'You can feel the worm in your belly,' Joe Cicero reinforced the man's conditioning.
'Yes, I can feel the worm.' Eight times in the past few years he had been in mental institutions.
It was while he was in the last of these that he had been selected and the conditioning of his mind accomplished.
'The worm asks if you know where to find the devil,' Joe Cicero told him. The man's name was Demetrio Tsafendas and he had been introduced into South Africa the previous year, once his conditioning was completed.
'Yes,' said Tsafendas. 'I know where to find the devil.' 'The worm in your belly orders you to go straight to where the devil is,' Joe Cicero said softly. 'The worm in your belly orders you to kill the devil.' Tsafendas stood up. He moved like an automaton.
'The worm orders you to go now!' Tsafendas started towards the parliament building with an even unhurried tread.
Joe Cicero watched him go. It was done. All the pieces had been placed with great care. At last the first boulder had started to roll down the hillside. It would gather others as it built up speed and momenttim, goon it would be a mighty avalanche and the shape of the mountain would be changed for ever.
Joe Cicero stood up and walked away.
The first person Shasa saw as he and Centaine walked up the front steps to the parliament entrance was Kitty Godolphin and his heart surged with excitement and unexpected pleasure. He hadn't seen her since that illicit
