Lenny had noticed the sequence of Kramer’s eye movements.
“Roberts never finishes his sing-song before eight,” he said. “That’s twenty minutes from now and nobody will make a move until then.”
“You think Jackson won’t wait that long?”
“He knows about Roberts’s habits, too. He’ll come before then.”
Kramer shrugged and picked up a screwdriver.
“Watch it,” Lenny warned.
“Christ, I’m not likely to try anything with this! Anyway-”
“Yes?”
“We haven’t any proper evidence on Jackson, so you may be doing us a favour.”
That threw Lenny-and so did the next move.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he snapped.
“Mending a toaster.”
“Hey?”
“Here, boy, gimme ama-pliers.”
“Yes, my baas.”
Lenny could only watch dumbfounded as Kramer and Zondi slipped whimsically into their old routine of electrician and electrician’s mate, an act perfected in dozens of unsuspecting homes. Within seconds the illusion was complete-right down to the feeling that the black man, obsequiously responding to gruff requests for tools within easy reach, could have done the job much better himself.
“You bastards are mad,” Lenny muttered.
“Ama-screwdrife.”
“Here, my baas.”
“Where’s the ee-element, you stupid kaffir? ”
“By your hand, my baas.”
“Don’t bugger around, how am I supposed to see it there? Hey?”
It had its touches of comedy, too, but Lenny could not be totally distracted from the window. This was a pity because it meant that Jackson had little chance of taking the initiative and saving more than his own life.
“My baas is sure the wire he going by that bottom side?”
“You know a better way of doing it?”
“No, my baas.”
“Then shut your flaming trap and use your brain, if you’ve got one.”
Zondi looked in surprise at Kramer, as if the line was not in the script he knew. Then he scratched his head, thought hard, and grinned sheepishly.
“Hau, sorry, my baas.”
“Okay, cut it out-that’s enough,” Lenny said.
“Bloody hell, we’ve just finished the job,” Kramer protested, closing the side flaps. “Can’t we at least see if the thing works now?”
And he reached casually for the wall switch, flicking it on before Lenny could raise an objection. Nothing happened. Kramer tugged at the plastic knob on the nearside of the toaster and opened the flap slightly to inspect the elements. They remained dull.
Lenny could not help a small smile. It showed his dimples.
“What’s your next trick?” he asked.
A good question-especially as Kramer had quietly turned the tables and was now armed with a weapon more swift and certain than the Walther PPK. And a question of choice: knowing that there would be no escape from the room without killing Lenny, he had to decide whether to do it immediately, while the little bastard was still unsuspecting, or to take a chance on getting a number of things cleared up first. He opted for the latter, although it made the speed of his reactions to any sudden move a critical factor.
That settled, all he had to do was unsettle Lenny and see how much he could learn from him in the time remaining.
So he said: “Aren’t you frightened, son?”
“Me? Why should I be?”
“Because your little plan isn’t going to work, you know. It’s a proper balls-up.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes. You should have got us while you could out in the yard.”
“I’ve told you both, I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Come on, man! You were just too scared to get in close enough for a knife. You didn’t know how much we were putting on and you’d heard of our judo tricks.”
“That’ll be the day.”
“Admit it. You’re going to blow holes in us straight after Jackson.”
“Crap.”
“Even waited for old Zondi here to come round so there’d be no problems getting him into this room.”
“It was only a minute at most. Anyway, give me one good reason.”
“Simple. The way things are going now we’ll be witnesses to a murder-Jackson’s. I’m sure you don’t want that.”
“True.”
“My point is that your first shot will bring the buggers flying through the door over there. You haven’t a chance of getting away.”
“True also-if you weren’t going with me when I leave. That’s why I waited for the kaffir to stand up.”
“Well, well, hear that, Zondi? Sonny boy here’s been reading the papers, he wants us as hostages. What are his chances?”
“I think bad, boss.”
Lenny began to look very agitated, as well he might. Time was running out and Jackson still had not budged. Granted, there were about ten minutes to go before Our Father broke up the meeting, but now a hint of mutiny was stirring in the corner. His two captives were finding the loopholes in hastily improvised explanations for their continued existence and soon there would be no accounting for their actions. The suggestion he was holding them as hostages had been too obvious a fabrication-he could quite easily shoot whom he liked and then escape by holding the rescue party at gunpoint until he reached the door. His dilemma was very similar to that faced by Kramer and would force him to the same conclusion: somehow he had to keep the chat going long enough for him to achieve his ends. It would have to be one hell of an engaging topic.
Kramer nudged Zondi.
“Well, I’m buggered if I’m going to stand around here all night,” he said. “This kiddo’s been too clever by half and it’s time he realised it. In fact, I bet he has already. So what do you say to our giving a little yell for the boys next door?”
Zondi opened his mouth.
“Want to know who did it?” Lenny blurted out desperately. “
Kill your sister? As if we didn’t already. Come on, kaffir, together now.”
“It wasn’t Jackson.”
“We know-he hired a spoke, but he did it all the same, legally.”
“No, he didn’t!”
“Someone did.”
“Sure. But how did you lot-”
“We all make mistakes.”
“Hey?”
“I suppose you must know or Jackson wouldn’t be trying to get you. He hates evidence lying about.”
“So that’s what you think?”
Zondi broke wind.
“He’s trying to waste time, boss,” he added.
“You’re right, man.”
Lenny made a quick check on Jackson’s position.
“For jesus’s sake, I did it!” he said.
And Kramer sighed. Honest to God, his sense of timing was inspired.
“I sodding did, you know!”
“Oh, piss off. Don’t try and act tough, it’s too late.”
“You don’t believe me?”
“How did you get the spoke man down here-smuggled him in a bike?”
“He got a job for the weekend in a furniture van.”
“You don’t say, that was clever.”
“Long distance removal, a whole house of things, Pretoria to Trekkersburg and back early Monday morning. The firm gets them the passes.”
“Name?”
“I don’t know. The wogs I fixed it up with didn’t say.”
“Description?”
“Never saw him. Wrote her address in the phone box by the City Hall.”
“Shoe Shoe saw you do this?”
Lenny faltered.
“No, he’d copped it before.”
“Why?”
“He tried to get money off Trenshaw-blackmail. He didn’t know what he was talking about but he was a security risk. We got Gershwin-”
“I know, but go on, I’m interested. How come a brother murders his own sister? Even for a gamaat, that’s pretty low.”
“I’m not a bloody-”
Lenny stopped short of his denial and in that moment Kramer knew he was winning: the poor bastard was going to any lengths to keep things going until Jackson appeared.
“She was a bitch, a whoring filthy bitch who thought she had a right to get out of this sodding country and leave us.”