Priscilla sat down in front of the desk. She wondered whether the police had kept it or whether Josiah had taken it. She thought back to the funeral. The Premier of Mpumalanga, Jeremiah Mhlanga, had given her the box personally. He’d made quite a show of it. The police had wanted to keep all of Lesedi’s things, he’d said, but he’d insisted that they hang on only to what was essential to the investigation. The box had sat on her lap on the journey back from Soweto and she’d brought it up to this room that very evening. Josiah had been too drunk when he’d got back and he’d left first thing in the morning. The Mpumalanga police must have kept the phone. They had all Lesedi’s contacts, including, she presumed, Kagiso Rapabane’s number.

Priscilla decided to call the Premier of Mpumalanga. What would be more natural than a grieving mother enquiring about how the hunt for her son’s murderer was going?

‘Jerry, it’s Priscilla here.’ She flipped from English to Zulu and back again, thanking him for taking the time to attend the funeral. ‘I know this is a very busy time for you, with all these Mozambicans being killed and what-what.’

‘Ah, no. I always have time for a Motlantshe. And how are you, my dear?’

‘Oh, Jerry, I am a mother without her son. I want to see punishment for those people who took him away from his mother.’

‘We are working day and night to find him.’

‘Who? You know who it is? Josiah told me it was the work of some underground people.’

‘Yes, yes, Josiah is right. By the way has he left for Dubai?’

‘Oh, you knew he was going there?’ You are all in it together. The words formed in her mind. She was probably the last person to know about her husband’s return to the Gulf. ‘So who is this person you are looking for?’

‘The police tell me they are following every lead that they have.’ Priscilla noted a change of tone: the avuncular had been replaced by the official. ‘There is some chap Lesedi met just a few hours before he was … before he was murdered.’

‘And are they close to catching him?’

‘The police say he has disappeared. He has not been to his office or home in Malelane. His mother in Soweto says she has no idea where he is. The police say he is on the run, he must have something to hide.’

‘Okay. Jerry, I know you will push these people to catch whoever took Lesedi. You will tell me if anything happens?’

‘Of course, my dear. You will be the first person to know. Oh, and, Prissy, if this fellow contacts you, you must let me know, eh?’