'Yes . . . but I didn't think it would be that easy.' Ken picked up the two-way radio. 'I'll keep this switched on. Garry may be coming through any time now.'
Fennel lit a cigarette and stretched out on the rock. He was feeling tired after the long walk, carrying his tool bag. He dozed while Ken kept watch. After some little time, Fennel sat up, lit a cigarette, yawned, then asked, 'When you've got the money, what are you going to do with it?'
'A pal of mine in Jo'burg is starting a travel agency,' Ken told him. 'He needs more capital. I'm going into partnership with him.'
'Travel agency? Is that so hot?'
'It's good. We plan a de luxe service. Personally conducted tours around the game reserves. That's where I'll score. There's a lot of money in it. The Americans are heavy spenders if you give them real personal service. I've been dealing with them for some years. I know what they want, and I plan to give it to them.'
Fennel grunted.
'Sounds like hard work to me. I don't believe in work. Only suckers work.'
'So what are you going to do with your share?'
'Spend it . . . that's what money is for. I've got no time for the punks who save their money. What happens? They kick off and some other punk gets it.'
'Maybe that's what they want.'
'To hell with that! There's always money around. When I've
spent what I get from Shalik, I'll do another little job. I've got plenty of contacts. They know I'm good so I'm never short of a job.'
Ken held up his hand, cutting him short. He had heard a crackle on the two-way radio and he put the set to his ear.
'Ken . . . hi, Garry . . . hearing you loud and clear . . . over.' He listened for some moments while Fennel watched him intently. 'Roger. Good luck. Out,' and he switched off.
'Well?'
'They're staying the night,' Ken told him. 'Kahlenberg seems pleased they dropped in. I must say that surprises me. Anyway, they are meeting him at 21.00 hrs. Garry says he'll call back at 23.00 hrs., and for us to stand by.'
Fennel grunted. He looked at his watch. It was just after midday.
'You mean we stay on this goddamn rock for twelve hours?'
'I guess so. We don't want to walk into any of the guards. I reckon it is safe up here. Let'seat.' He brought out the inevitable can of beans.
'Goddamn it! Isn't there anything else to eat except beans?'
'Steak pie . . . want that?'
'That's better than beans.' Fennel brooded as Ken searched in the rucksack for the can. 'I bet those two are doing themselves well.' His mind dwelt on Gaye and a vicious spurt of rage ran through him. Get this job over, he told himself, and then you fix her and you fix her good.
'What's bitten you?' Ken asked, seeing the savage expression on Fennel's face.
'Nothing . . . how much longer are you going to take to open that can?'
'I wish I knew we weren't going to be disturbed,' Garry said. Gaye and he were sitting on the terrace after an excellent lunch served by two Zulu waiters.
Gaye was stretched out on a reclining chair, a cigarette between her fingers. Garry thought she looked lovely in the red and gold sari. It was the type of costume that suited her, and which he admired.
'Why?' Gaye asked, looking at him.
'Obvious reasons,' Garry returned with a grin. 'I would take you into the bedroom.'
She laughed.
'When I too wish we knew we weren't going to be disturbed.'
'Could be embarrassing if Mr. Tak arrived on the scene.'
