It was Msimanga himself who came to fetch him as the day broke. Spokes found most of the homestead, including the lovely Loveness, waiting for him to either succeed or fail. Msimanga stationed himself and Spokes in the middle of the clearing, and everyone else formed a circle around them.

‘What happened to Zwakele Mkhize?’ Msimanga asked.

‘If you don’t mind, sir … is it possible, before answering, for me to ask one or two questions of my own?’ Spokes asked in return.

Those in the circle made noises, none of them particularly encouraging.

Msimanga looked at Spokes with his wise eyes and smiled his acquiescence.

‘You mentioned something about a dam being built around that time.’

‘Yes.’

‘At what stage was the dam?’

‘Completed, but yet to be filled with water. In fact, it was filled with water soon after,’ Msimanga said.

‘It began to be filled the very next day,’ a male voice volunteered.

‘Thank you. That is all I need to know,’ Spokes said before pronouncing, ‘Zwakele Mkhize is in the dam.’

Even though it had been obvious from his questions where Spokes was going, his declaration was met with a shocked silence.

‘You think someone pushed Zwakele into the dam?’ Msimanga asked.

‘I know so,’ Spokes said, before slowly adding, ‘and so do you, sir.’

The shocked silence was scandalised.

Finally an elderly voice from the circle asked, ‘What is this young man saying?’

‘He is saying that I pushed Zwakele into the dam,’ Msimanga replied, a smile on his face.

The silence became angry. Who did this young man think he was? What right did he have to say such things? The silence wanted him and his very dangerous ways gone, back to wherever he had come from … hopefully somewhere very far away.

But the silence did not belong to Msimanga, who simply asked, ‘How did you know?’

‘You said if I answered the question correctly, I could marry your daughter. But how—’

‘How could I possibly know what the correct answer was if I was not the one who had committed the crime?’ Msimanga concluded, impressed.

The silence decided to turn into a murmur so that it could have something to do, and would probably have carried on thus, perhaps infinitely, had someone – a woman – not had the presence of mind to enquire: ‘Why would Msimanga have all these people look for Zwakele if he knew that he …’ She lost her courage and would not finish her thought.

As it turned out, Msimanga had courage enough for all of them. His wise eyes looked very weary when he said, ‘At first I did it to ward off suspicion from myself … and then I did it because I grew tired of having got away with it. Another man’s death is a very heavy burden to bear. I thought that what I desired more than anything was the power that came with being your headman. It was only after Zwakele was gone that I realised that what I needed even more was a true friend.’