For Jake Willemse and his generation of fellow ministers – products of business schools around the world – out of sight meant out of mind. With the veterans out of the way, they could pursue ‘the project’, to drag South Africa into the twenty-first century, at least their version of it.

‘I know what I’m doing and I know what has to be done,’ Jake said.

‘Never doubted it, mate.’ Missenden could tell he was getting to Willemse and rather enjoyed it. ‘Oh, one other thing. You ever heard of South Trust?’

‘Of course I have. They were quite busy in Congo recently. Frankly, their success put our great leader’s efforts at mediation in the shade. What about it?’

‘Bunch of interfering do-gooders, if you ask me. Run by one of your chaps, an Indian by the name …’ He paused, dredging his memory.

‘You mean Chetty, Anton Chetty. I don’t know him personally, but I know all about him. Old school, a has-been, the type who still thinks it was the Kalashnikov that delivered freedom.’

‘He might be a has-been but he’s quick off the mark. Gave an interview in London this morning. Said he thinks the Motlantshe boy’s murder is linked to calls for land reform. Not very helpful, I must say. Don’t want any of our people getting nervous about their money in this deal, do we?’

‘I’ll see what I can do. We’re working on a statement. “A wanton, misguided act of criminality, not politically motivated” – something like that.’

‘While you’re at it you might want to watch out for his sidekick, Lindi Seaton, another of your compatriots. What is it with you South Africans? Grew up in London. Her parents came here as exiles. Technically she’s British. She was with me at the FCO. My hunch is that one of them, or both, will be heading your way. They’ve got credibility. Once they start digging around and talking, people will listen. Anyhow, I think that’s about everything for now, Jake. I know you’ll sort out this unholy mess.’

Anton’s phone rang.

‘Hey! Howzit, bru!’ From the phrase, from the subtle change in Anton’s accent Lindi knew straight away he was talking to someone in South Africa. She listened in to one half of a conversation.

‘Jirre, man! On what?’ He wrote down a web address. ‘Hold on, hold on.’ He gesticulated to Lindi, pointing to what he’d just written. ‘Pull it up,’ he said, before continuing with the conversation.

Lindi had the link on the screen.

‘Okay, listen, man, I’m going to call you back. Let me watch this thing. All right, hamba kahle, man.’

Slowly, deliberately, he placed the phone back on the desk and turned to Lindi. He looked ashen. ‘This is much worse than I thought.’

Lindi touched the ‘play’ icon and clicked.