‘You were about to say why you believe what the Mozambicans have been telling you.’ Just before you tried to kill both of us.

‘Ah, yes. I was coming to that. Look, there are two issues here. First, the anger about land being sold to foreigners. That is a real problem and it’s done over the heads of local people. But it doesn’t affect the Mozambicans. The new owners are going to need labourers, and these people will work for almost nothing. They are the poorest of the poor.’

‘That’s just what a friend of mine told me,’ Lindi said, recalling her conversation with Kagiso outside Regina Mundi.

‘Well, your friend is right.’

Father Petro fingered the breast pocket of his shirt and found another cigarette.

‘Do you want me to light it for you?’

‘Thank you.’ He took a sideways glance at her, smiling. ‘I think you’re frightened I’m going to crash the car, my sister.’

‘Oh, I wonder why you’d think that,’ replied Lindi, tartly.

‘Don’t worry, we’re doing God’s work. Nothing can happen to us.’

‘You said there were two issues. What’s the second?’

‘Did I say that? Two issues? Let me see.’

Lindi wondered how frustrating it would be if his sermons were anything like this.

‘Yes, I have it. The second issue is this Lesedi fellow. He was not greedy like his father. People here know that. On the day he died he was here in Mpumalanga, apparently to listen to people. So why would they kill him?’

‘Yes, I heard he visited a charity on the day he was killed. Soil of Africa. Do you know it?’

‘Yes, I know it well. It’s run by an interesting fellow. He used to work in government and then he switched sides.’

‘Kagiso Rapabane. He’s the guy I was just talking about.’

‘I see you have done your homework, sister. Yes, I know Rapabane. We have done some work together on this land business. He’s a good man, a brave man to take on the government like that. He’s made some enemies.’

‘Enemies?’

‘The people who are making millions out of these deals. You see, when I say something, they just call me a foolish priest. But Rapabane, well, that’s different.’

‘In what way different?’

‘People listen to him because they know he used to work for government. And the guys in Pretoria don’t like that. They think of him like Judas – he’s a traitor.’

‘Do you think he’s in danger?’

‘Rapabane? Some people kill for ideology, some for religion. With these people it’s money.’

‘Have you told him?’

‘I tell him I pray for him.’ The intensity of her questioning prompted him to ask how she knew Kagiso.

‘Oh, our families go back a long way.’

‘How so?’

‘His mother was our house-worker. It sounds cringe-making but really they were more like family.’