?That is very beautiful.? Like he really meant it.
?But I will not bring her to your house, Carlos. We can go somewhere together. Picnic, or the movies, but not to your house.?
?But, conchita, I have this pool . . .?
?And you have these bodyguards with guns and baseball bats. I will not allow my daughter to see that.?
?They are not bodyguards. They are my crew.?
?I don?t care.?
?Hokay, hokay, Carlos will send them away when you come.?
?You won?t.?
?No? Why not??
?Because they are with you all the time.?
?No, conchita, I swear,? he said, and made the sign of the cross over his upper body.
?When my daughter is with me, I don?t sleep with you and we don?t sleep over. That is final.?
?Carlos unnerstand,? he said, but couldn?t hide his disappointment.
?And we will take it slowly. I have to talk to her about you first. She must get used to you slowly.?
?Hokay.?
?So, tomorrow night, we will see if you are serious. I will come to your house and it will only be you and me. No bodyguards.?
?
Of course.?
?I will stay with you. I will cook for you and we will talk.?
?Where will Sonia be??
?She will be safe.?
?At the nanny?s place?? Pleased with himself, because he knew.
?Yes.?
?And maybe the weekend, we can go somewhere? You and me and Sonia??
?If I see I can trust you, Carlos.? But she knew she had him. She knew the process had begun.
42.
Thobela left his pickup behind the ridges at the Waterval Plantation and walked along the bank of the Cata River towards his house, assegai in his left hand.
A kilometer before the homestead came into view he turned northeast, so he could approach from the high ground. They would be expecting him from the road end.
He sat watching for twenty minutes, but saw only the car parked in front of the house. No antennae, nothing to identify it as a police vehicle. Silence.
It made no sense.
He kept the shed between him and the house, checking that the doors were still locked. Crouching, he approached the house, below window level, to where the car was parked.
There was one set of footprints in the dust. They began at the driver?s door and led directly to the steps of the front verandah.
One man.
He ran through alternatives in his head while he squatted on his haunches with his back to the verandah wall. Something occurred to him. The detective from Umtata. Must have heard the news. Knew him, knew everything, from the start.
The detective had come for more money.
He stood, relieved and purposeful, and strode up his verandah steps and in at the front door, assegai now in his right hand.
The man was sitting there on the chair, pistol on his lap.
?I thought you would come,? said the white man.
?Who are you??
?My name is Benny Griessel,? he said and raised the Z88 so that it pointed straight at Thobela?s chest.
Christine took the stuffed toy dog from the desk and held it in her hands. ?I had a battle to get the right dog,? she said. ?Every year there are different toys in the shops.?
Her fingers stroked the long brown ears. ?I bought her one when she was three years old. It?s her favorite, she won?t go anywhere without it. So I had to get another and switch them, because the one she played with had her genetics on it. The police computers can test anything. So I had to take the right one along.?
He stood in front of the white man weighing up his chances, measuring the distance between the assegai and
