Chapter 9

iSigodi Resort, Northern KwaZulu-Natal, South Africa.

As twilight descends upon Lake St Lucia and iSigodi Resort, the sky transforms into a canvas of breathtaking beauty. Shades of deep purple, fiery orange, and soft pink blend seamlessly, creating a mesmerizing glow over the tranquil waters below. The sun, a blood-red and yellow disk, dipped behind the distant mountains to the west, leaving behind a lingering warmth that caresses the landscape.

From my vantage point at the lounge window of my suite at the resort, perched along the pristine shore of the lake, the scene unfolds like a dream. The water’s surface is a mirror, reflecting the kaleidoscope of colours above, creating an ethereal dance of light and shadow. Gentle ripples lap against the shoreline, a soothing melody that accompanies the symphony of nature.

The tropical forest that envelops the lake adds to the enchantment of the sunset. Towering palm trees sway gently in the evening breeze, their fronds rustling softly as if whispering secrets of the night. Thick foliage, vibrant and verdant, teems with life, each leaf and branch illuminated by the fading light.

As darkness gradually descends, the sounds of the wilderness after dark come alive, and I hear it through the open door and window of my suite. Frogs croak in chorus and birds sing evening lullabies. Unseen creatures stir in the underbrush. The air is thick with the scent of the earth and musty smell of the vegetation, carrying with it a sense of primal connection to the land.

In this magical twilight hour, time seems to stand still, and worries fade away. I am left with wonder of nature’s spectacle, a scene that captivates the soul and leaves an indelible imprint on the heart. I could not resist, but took out my camera and photographed each phase of the setting of the sun and the coming night.

The clocked ticked on to 19:15. Time to go meet Mel at 19:30.

I was about to leave when my cell phone chimed a warning. Rushing over to my bedside table, I took out my secret radio receiver and switched it on, just in time to hear:

“The fuzz has arrested Kagiso.”

“For what?” The electronic distorted voice came over the speaker. I hit record.

“Possession of unlicensed ammunition.”

“How was that possible?”

“It was in the bakkie he drove. It was not the resort’s ammo. It was your hunter’s ammo.”

“How did it end up in the bakkie?”

“You tell me how it ended up in the bakkie. That three brain cell moron you use as a hunter may have borrowed Bongani’s bakkie for something and left the ammo in it.”

“It can’t be traced to us.”

“Kagiso and Bongani are bound to tell the fuzz who else used the bakkie.”

“This is now getting to be a mess...”

“Yeah, you are right. And that private eye is still scratching at the surface. He is about to make some more discoveries. He found the ring and handed it to the cops.”

“I know. He has also managed to prevent the police from arresting her.”

“He is very close to Sunshine. It will not surprise me if they have not got a thing on between them.”

“I’ve seen it. And the day your bug was destroyed, he was the one to find it.”

I nearly made a backflip. The voice has got to be very close to the resort, or on the resort to observe Mel and me!

“So, then you know if he gets more lovey-dovey with her, he becomes more dangerous.”

“You’ll have to do something.”

“No! YOU have got to do something! Get your hunter to do one more hit. Both the private eye and Sunshine take walks in the bush with that stupid lion around. They sit out in the open on his suite deck.”

Okay! No more photography sessions for me and no more walks for Mel.

“It’s not so easy. Let me think about it.”

“Yeah! Think all you want, but make it snappy. And make it happen.”

“Any suggestions?”

“Yeah, like with the accountant. Why don’t you drop some of that stuff in PI’s drink sometime.”

“I’m not the barman. I’ll get back to you on it. I have a plan. Besides, she got the money from somewhere to send that rattletrap she calls an aircraft for its 500-hour service. And it was paid into her private account and not the resort account.”

“How did you know that?”

“I told you I’m closer to her than you think. You may be the resort accountant, but she doesn’t tell you the things, she tells me.”

What? Who is so close to Mel that they know small little secrets of her?

Well, her having found funds to send the aircraft for a service complicates matters. If she has another sponsor, it will take a while longer to bankrupt her.”

“I have a plan. Maybe a little drastic, but we must now move faster.” And the line went dead.

“Shit, shit, dammit shit!” Lorenzo replied to the dead phone while his line was still active. Then he closed the connection.

The distorted electronic voice must be very close to the resort. One of the employees perhaps? Or a guest?

Still puzzling, I got up and walked out of my suite, locking the door.

As I walked up to the restaurant, the evening sky painted a serene backdrop with hues of orange and pink gradually blending into the deepening blue as the dusk faded into night. The soft glow of the restaurant’s exterior lights beckoned me closer, creating an inviting aura that hinted at the culinary delights within.

Upon entering, my senses were immediately captivated by the rich tapestry of scents wafting through the air – the heady aroma of spices mingling with the tantalizing scent of sizzling meats, promising a feast for the senses. The interior was alive with activity, with diners engaged in animated conversations and laughter, their voices blending harmoniously with the gentle hum of background music, somewhat calming my grey mood.

My gaze swept across the room until it landed on Melanie, sitting gracefully at the bar. Bathed in the warm light, she exuded an air of quiet confidence, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. Her attire added a touch of whimsy to the scene, hinting at her playful nature. For a tomboy type of girl she can dress very sexy if she so wishes.

Her tire was a blue lace top and matching skirt. The bottom half of the skirt was of a chiffon material, showing off her slender long legs.

Despite the echoes of the past, there was a sense of resilience about her, a subtle strength that seemed to emanate from within. It was as if she had embraced the challenges she faced and emerged stronger, ready to take on whatever the evening had in store.

At that moment, as I stood on the threshold of the restaurant, surrounded by the tantalizing sights, sounds, and scents of the evening, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of anticipation for the adventures that lay ahead. Both in the culinary delights awaiting me, and in the company of Melanie, whose presence added an extra layer of excitement to the night.

Melanie saw me and turned to me as I approached.

“What can I get you to drink? Whisky?” She playfully asked and I chuckled.

“Do you guys stock Glenfiddich?”

“Both twelve year and eighteen-year-old single malts.”

“Then, I’ll have a double shot of twelve-year-old, neat, please.” I replied and Melanie turned to the barman waiting to serve me.

“Hmm ... Do you like your whisky like you like your women? Young?” She teased and then turned to the barman. “You heard him, make his wish appear. And while you’re at it, I’ll have a Vermouth dry Martini. You know how I take it.”

“Right on, ingelosi yomusa!” The barman replied and went off to get our drinks.

“What did he call you?”

“A nickname. He refered to me as the Angel of mercy.”

“That’s a mouthful!”

“You do not speak iSiZulu, Ty?”

“Nope! Some Seshuto, but not enough to hold a serious conversation,” I chuckled.

“Yet, you speak Czech?”

“And Afrikaans, English, French, German, and Dutch.”

“But not one of the South African indigenous languages?”

“Unfortunately, not. But it seems you speak iSiZulu?”

“Not enough to hold a serious conversation...” And Mel giggled like a schoolgirl. “You could teach me Afrikaans. Though I do speak a little Dutch.”

“Dutch!”

“Dat had je toch niet verwacht?” She replied with a slight accent. (“That you did not expect?”)

“No, I did not expect you to speak Dutch!” Chuckle.

Giggle.

“Better lay off the Dutch for a while. It’s too close to Afrikaans and about eighty percent of your guests would understand you.”

“So, you mean to say I can speak Dutch, then people would answer me in Afrikaans?”

“Dis net soos jy dit daar sê, Juffrou Ková!” I replied in Afrikaans and Melanie’s eye widened.

“Het is precies zoals u zegt!” She repeated my words but in Dutch. “I understand you completely! Why did no one ever speak Afrikaans to me?”

“Because KwaZulu-Natal is 90% English, and you are Czech. Everyone tends to speak to foreigners in English.”

“I’m not a foreigner! I’m a South African citizen!”

“But I did not catch the first word?”

“Dis?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“It’s a contraction of ‘dit’ and ‘is’, like in English ‘dis’ is the same as ‘it’s’ or ‘it is’.”

“Hmm ... You should teach me Afrikaans. You called me ‘Juffrou Ková’, that is the same as in Dutch for an unmarried woman.”

“Yes, but it’s spelled different. In Afrikaans, you drop the last letter that is a ‘w’ as in the Dutch spelling. Also, the pronunciation is diferent.”

“So the Czech girl can learn a new language and will not be considered foreign any more?” Melanie chuckled.

“Tell that to the ones that just...” I started to say but saw something at the end of the bar. A blond woman pushed back from the bar just where the barman placed our drinks to turn around and get a tray. She turned and walked off without me seeing her face and disappeared through a door.

“What is it, Ty?” Melanie asked.

“That woman at the end of the bar. The blond one. Did you see her?”

“No, I did not. Why?”

“Melanie, when the barman brings us our drinks, take yours but don’t drink it. I may be paranoid, but it looked like she dropped something in our glasses.”

“What!”

“I can be wrong, but just the way she acted that made me suspicious. Especially after what I heard between Lorenzo and that disguised voice before I came down to meet you.”

“Ty...?”

“I was still to tell you about it.”

“When we get our drinks, let’s first walk out on the patio, where it is a little more private.”

“I’m with you,” I replied just as the barman brought our drinks.

Together we took our drinks and Melanie walked off to the side entrance. I followed her. Out on the patio she walked up to the wooden railing, turned resting her back against the railing, and smelled at her drink. She kept her eyes on me and then lowered her glass.

“What do you smell, Ty?” She asked as I also smelled at the rim of my glass.

“Almonds!” I replied.

“Bitch! Did you get a good look at her, Ty?”

“No. Could she be a guest?”

“Ty, none of my white staff are blond, but every second female guest here is blond!”

“Dammit,” I said under my breath.

“May I say that word too, without risking a spanking?”

“Yeah, you may...”

“DAMMIT! So close ... yet so far...” Melanie replied and then tossed her drink out over the railing to fall on the paved walkway beneath. “Thanks, Ty. Thanks for being so observant.”

“It’s a pleasure, milady,” I replied and followed Melanie’s example by tossing my drink over the railing, thinking; “What a waste of good whisky!”

“What now?” Melanie asked, wiping a stray lock of hair out of her face.

“I’m just sorry I did not follow her out of the bar.” I replied and then added: “If I had a car of some sort, I would have taken you to a restaurant in town.”

“Two things. One, you don’t have a car, and two, town is a hundred and twenty kilometres away.”

“So then we’re screwed.”

“Totally!” Melanie replied with a playful smirk.

“Then I must think of plan ‘B’ for our date.”

“Are we on a date?”

“You invited me, remember?”

“Oh, yes ... But it’s not a date, date!”

“Yes Dear...”

“Seeing that you think it’s a date...” She replied with a shy smile. “I have uncontaminated food in my apartment. Do you eat freshwater prawns?”

“I love them.”

“I have twelve nice big ones in my fridge. Fresh. Caught this morning.”

“I would rather not ask how you got hold of such a rare commodity?”

“Remember the headman whose cattle I inoculated?”

“Yeah, the one at Kosi Bay...”

“He showed his appreciation.” Giggle.

“Remind me next time I’m around Kosi Bay, let me present him with a bottle of whisky as a token of appreciation.”

Chuckle. “He’ll then supply you with a cow! And, dear Ty, where would you keep it?”

“Evil circle of gratitude!”

“Come, let’s go eat. AND I have an uncontaminated bottle of white wine...”

“Hmm ... Fresh water prawns and white wine.”

“Evil, hey?” She replied, winking, and her eyes reflected playful little flecks of the dull patio light.

As Ty and Melanie departed the patio, a blond figure stood in the shadows of the wooden deck outside the restaurant. A mixture of nerves and determination coursed through her veins. She had meticulously planned this moment, waiting for the perfect opportunity to execute her scheme. But as she observed Melanie and Ty’s interaction, her confidence wavered.

The tension in the air was thick as she watched them facing each other near the railing. Every movement they made felt like a betrayal of her carefully laid plans. When they both seemed to take sips of their drinks and then nonchalantly tossed them away, her heart sank.

Had they managed to detect the poison she had surreptitiously added to their drinks? It appeared inconceivable; their focus had been solely on each other, leaving no room for suspicion.

In a state of disbelief and panic, she struggled to comprehend what had gone wrong. Had she miscalculated something? Were her methods not as foolproof as she had believed? She was not a professional in terminating certain “obstacles” in her way, but thought the cyanide would be undetectable. Apparently, it was not undetectable.

She stood there, grappling with her inner turmoil, then made the difficult decision to abandon her current mission and devise another way of getting closer to her objective.

Slowly, she removed the long blond wig that had been her disguise, rolling it up and tucking it into her handbag, suddenly revealing short dark brown hair.

With a heavy heart and a mind swirling with unanswered questions, she retreated back into the restaurant. Each step felt heavier than the last as she contemplated the consequences of her failed plan.

Despite her best efforts, fate had intervened, leaving her to wonder what could have been if things had gone according to her carefully constructed plan.

Melanie’s Apartment, iSigodi resort.

Without further events, we managed to get to Melanie’s apartment in the staff accommodation part of the resort. I chuckled at the signpost with the notice declaring: “Private. No guests allowed.” As Melanie said, I’m not a guest.

The first thing she did when she entered her home, was to kick off her shoes, declaring: “I hate shoes...”

“So, you’re also a tomboy,” I chuckled. “I love it.”

Melanie turned to me, now a little shorter than she was when she had her high heels on.

“Oh, what’s a tomboy?”

“A tomboy is referred to as ‘divoška’. It describes a girl who enjoys rough games and activities. So, if I encounter a spirited and adventurous young lady, I can playfully call her a ‘divoška’.” I replied.