‘Hi, guys. Well, there’s really only one story – and it’s the one that’s been dominating the airwaves since last week. Mpumalanga’s police chief says they are getting closer all the time to finding the man who killed Lesedi Motlantshe. Lieutenant General Jackson Sibande told a packed news conference at his Nelspruit headquarters last night that it’s only a matter of time before they find their man. Sibande told journalists that detectives believe an underground network of terrorists was responsible for what he called the cold-blooded and cowardly killing. He said they’re just a step away from catching the ring-leader.’

‘Did the police chief say where they are looking?’

‘No, Jonny. All he would say is that their man is somewhere between Jo’burg and Mpumalanga. He’s on the run and dangerous. Those are the words he used.’

‘Hey, Celi. Does this ring-leader have a name? Are we going to see an e-fit?’

‘That’s just the question we asked the big boss, Patricia. Lieutenant General Sibande says they know their man and they’ll release more details soon, probably in the next couple of days. One other thing, guys. The police chief said they’re working on the theory that this gang might be getting some outside help.’

There were a couple of other news items. The local energy company was threatening to cut off supply to a township where half the residents had failed to pay their bills, and Mpumalanga’s recently crowned beauty queen had left her husband for the businessman who had sponsored the pageant.

‘Tch, tch. She is a foolish woman,’ Mama Khethiwe said, turning the volume down again. ‘That man is going to get tired of her and throw her out. Then she will be begging her man to come back. So these killers are underground, eh?’

Kagiso marvelled at the way she switched seamlessly from the mundane to the momentous. ‘That’s what they say. Do you believe them?’

‘Ah, I don’t know, child, but it is like the old days, before you were born. The police they were always saying underground this and underground that.’

‘But they were the good guys. Mandela, Slovo and Maharaj, they were the freedom-fighters.’

‘So you know your history, eh, Kagiso? But these people who did this thing to the Motlantshe boy, they are just thugs.’

‘You are right but …’ Kagiso’s phone rang again.

‘Eh! You big man now! Getting calls this time of the day.’

Kagiso looked at the screen. ‘It’s only my mother,’ he said. ‘Mama, you calling early-early.’

‘Leave the mama. What are you doing?’

Kagiso could tell his mother was either concerned or angry, probably both. ‘Is everything okay?’

‘Everything is not okay,’ Maude said. ‘Some men were here just now. They say they from the police.’

‘Where are they?’

‘They just gone now-now. I just closed the door. Are you in trouble?’