‘Thank you,’ Spokes said. ‘But this is not about Sitshengisiwe’s case. No, this is about … well, I was listening to your speech at the rally—’

‘I hope you enjoyed it,’ Silas Mthimkhulu interrupted.

‘It certainly did move the crowd, and I was a part of that crowd,’ Spokes said, diplomatically, if noncommittally. ‘I heard you mention that you had helped some of the boys cross over into Zambia.’

‘Some girls … women and children too,’ Bodecia said. ‘Not just boys and men fought this war.’ The amusement was long gone from her face.

‘Of course,’ Spokes said. ‘I didn’t mean to imply—’

‘Don’t tell me you have come here to arrest me for that,’ Silas Mthimkhulu interrupted again. ‘I know you BSAP boys did not take kindly to liberation-war sympathisers, put us in jail every chance you got. I know we were on different sides – you chaps wanting colonisation to go on forever, us chaps wanting colonisation to come to a necessary end – but surely so close to independence helping freedom fighters cannot still be seen as a crime. I was just doing my part, as they say.’

‘Oh. I see I have not made myself clear,’ Spokes said, choosing to ignore the intended sting of Silas Mthimkhulu’s words. ‘I am not here to charge you with anything.’

Silas Mthimkhulu and Bodecia both visibly relaxed.

‘Far from it – I am here to ask for your help,’ Spokes continued.

‘My help?’ Silas Mthimkhulu asked, evidently taken aback.

‘I suppose this is a matter that both of you might be able to help me with. You see, there is a man who came to see me recently. He is one of the boys who crossed the Zambezi into Zambia.’

‘And I helped him cross over?’

‘Well, no. He found his own way, from what I gather.’

‘So where do I come in?’ Silas Mthimkhulu asked, no longer at ease.

‘You see, he saw torsos and limbs floating in the Zambezi,’ Spokes said.

If anything had shown on Silas Mthimkhulu’s face – shock, revulsion, confusion, anger, anything – Spokes would have doubted in that instant that he was on the right track, but nothing appeared on Silas Mthimkhulu’s face. It chose, instead, to give nothing away and made itself an inscrutable object. That is when Spokes knew with certainty that, after all these years, he had found his man.

‘Torsos? Limbs? The Zambezi? Floating?’ Bodecia asked, her face the picture of perfect incomprehension.

Spokes could not help but feel relieved. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Torsos with Y-dissections carved into them.’

‘You say that as though it should mean something, but I cannot for the life of me understand what you are on about,’ Silas Mthimkhulu said testily, his inscrutable mask slipping.

‘The man—’ Spokes began explaining.

‘The man? What man?’ Silas Mthimkhulu asked, his hands gesturing in such a way that some of his beer sploshed out of the bottle.

Bodecia put a placating hand on her husband’s arm.