Of Cops & Robbers Read Online Free PDF Page A

Mkezi doesn’t crack a smile, keeps tapping at Cake Mullins’ knee. ‘My boy needs a car. Something fast.’
    ‘I know a man’s got a lovely little boutique showroom. Daro Attilane. He can get amazing cars.’
    ‘Nothing amazing. Just something flashy for the kid.’
    ‘Daro’s the man.’ Cake Mullins takes a sip of his drink, brushes off Jacob Mkezi’s tapping finger.
    ‘You do that.’ Jacob Mkezi withdrawing his hand.
    ‘I know Daro Attilane,’ says Vicki.
    ‘You do?’
    ‘He’s reliable. He organised my Alfa.’
    ‘Really?’ Jacob Mkezi smiling at her. ‘Not only a recommended lawyer, a discerning taste in cars, but connections too.’
    Clifford Manuel clears his throat, moving on to cricket, the wonders of the new team. Jacob Mkezi couldn’t give a flying fig for cricket but he’s sat through Clifford Manuel’s cricket spiel often enough to know the lawyer’s marking time.
    Tol Visagie’s a cricket man, it gets him going, talking overs and balls. Cake Mullins adds his two cents about how they’re not going to shape against the Aussies. Probably be wiped.
    Jacob Mkezi half-listens, watches through the tall windows the young and the beautiful around the pool drinking cocktails, whiskies, shooters. Soft winter night outside, imagines them getting among one another. Fantasises Vicki Kahn into that mix too.
    His drink comes, they toast good health.
    Clifford Manuel says, ‘Jacob, as I told you on the phone, it was Tol asked me to arrange this meeting. He’s got Cake on board already. What little I know of the project sounds exciting. Sounds very profitable. Any legal work you need me for, I’m a phone call away. So’s Vicki. We’re there whenever you need us, our professional opinion. So.’ He raises his glass. ‘To your venture. We’ll leave you guys to it.’
    They clink glasses, take a quick swallow.
    Vicki Kahn stands. ‘Don’t get up.’
    The men do anyhow.
    ‘I’ll be in touch,’ says Jacob Mkezi, taking her hand again. ‘To tell you about your aunt.’
    ‘You want to feel the baize once more, you let me know,’ says Cake Mullins. ‘A table’s not the same without Vicki the poker chick.’
    ‘Thanks, Cake,’ she says, easing her hand out of Jacob Mkezi’s grasp. ‘But no thanks. This time I’m through.’
    ‘Of course,’ says Cake Mullins. ‘Why’m I doubting it?’
    Jacob Mkezi takes in Vicki Kahn’s figure in the black suit. Good hips, good boobs. He nods at Clifford Manuel slipping away with a little bow, smiling like a Buddha, his hands in prayer.
    Jacob Mkezi thinking, the lawyer ducking because there’s a stink on the wind. He sighs, turns to Tol Visagie wondering where this one’s going. ‘So, Tol. What’s your story?’
    Tol leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees. Goes through the polite spiel, an honour to meet you, kind of you to see me, grateful for your time, know you’re a busy man, got a lot on your plate.
    Jacob Mkezi holds up his hand, stop. ‘Hey, my friend, enough. What’s the juice?’
    ‘A proposal,’ says Cake Mullins.
    Tol frowns at Cake Mullins. ‘Something I wanna show you.’
    ‘Now?’
    Tol laughs, shaking his head. ‘No, no-no, not now. It’s a bloody long way away. I wanna offer you a break, out of the city.’ He shifts to the edge of the couch. ‘You’re a birdwatcher, hey, that’s what I read?’
    ‘When I get a chance.’
    ‘Here’s it: this weekend I take you to the Caprivi.’ Tol sitting back with a grin. ‘Wonderful birds there. The feathered kind too.’
    Jacob Mkezi stares at him. ‘You know the sort of trouble that’s in my life right now?’
    ‘Ja.’ Tol Visagie brushing it aside with a wave of his hand. ‘The weekend, Mr Mkezi. That’s all it’s gonna take. We fly there Friday afternoon, fly back Sunday. It’ll give you a break. Takeyou out of it in the bush.’
    Jacob Mkezi keeps up the stare. ‘You’re a vet, you said? Wildlife?’
    Tol Visagie nods. ‘I work in the bush.’
    ‘Then