Man of Many Talents

Chapter 6

  Even though the house stood open, Lana could not see anything different from when she left here two hours previously. Henk removed a revolver from under the seat anyway, and fastened it around his waist. They walked through the house, inspecting it thoroughly. She shook her head.

  "Nobody has been here and nothing has disappeared. Thank you, Henk. Would you like to have some tea?"

  "No, thank you, but I am hungry. I would like to eat something. I am going to take you out for a meal at Phumula Lodge. After your ordeal you are probably hungry, as well."

  "Yes, I am. Would you mind if I have a quick bath and get dressed in something else? My clothes are in a state." She went into the bathroom, opened the taps and climbed into a relaxing foam bath.

  "Are you asleep in there?" Henk asked after a while. "I am starting to get worried that those pain tablets have made you drowsy."

  "I haven't taken the tablets yet. I will be with you soon."

  "Is it going to take long?" He asked despondently. "I am starving."

  "Help yourself to a beer in the fridge. That should help to stave off the hunger pangs. Don't rush a woman enjoying her bath." She climbed out of the bath after a while, and found Henk fast asleep on one of the sleeping couches. The half-full beer bottle was standing on the table next to him. She nudged him, trying to wake him up, but he just turned around to lie on his stomach.

  "Henk, shall we go?"

  "H'm."

  "Do you want to sleep here on the couch?"

  "No, we have to go and get some food," he mumbled.

  "Shall I take your shirt off?"

  "No, wait. Leave me be, I will be ready now, then we can go out to dinner."

  He turned his head and allowed her to remove his shoes. She took the revolver from the holster and placed it underneath the couch. It was obvious that Henk would not wake up again tonight.

  Lana closed the doors and gates, switched off the lights, swallowed the two tablets Henk had given her and climbed into bed.

  The dinner date would have to be postponed to breakfast.

 

  "Goodness, can you see what beer does to me on an empty stomach?" Henk sat up and wiped his hair as Lana placed the cup of coffee on the table next to him.

  "I can see …" She smiled as he pulled her closer to look at the wound on her forehead.

  "H'm, the wound is looking good. I think I was a good doctor, even if I have to say so myself. But you have to consult Hendrik on the day after tomorrow in order for him to see that everything is fine." He pulled his shoes towards him and started putting them on. "It was his idea to stick the wound together. Apparently stitches leave bigger scars than the original wound. What are your plans for today?"

  "I have to fetch my bakkie from the centre and go to Malelane or Komati to buy a new cell phone."

  "Was it a contract phone?"

  "No, pay as you go. I suppose I would have to advise some of my friends and family members of my new number."

  "At least the man who was sending the SMS's does not have your new number. Do you have your family and friends' numbers? Nobody keeps little black books anymore."

  "I have most numbers on my notebook." She pointed at the laptop standing on the dining room table. "Or rather, on my ex's notebook I am using. The one everybody is so keen on getting their hands on."

  "Yes, it is quite sought after. Have you actually figured out why they want it?"

  "No, and I am not interested to know, either. My own computer was stolen while ago and nowadays I use this one to do my work on. It contains all my own uncompleted articles. I cannot let go of it."

  "Understandable. Do the editors prescribe what you write about, or do you choose your subjects?"

  "I usually choose what I want to write about. I know more or less what the readers of the different newspapers and magazines want to read about. The accommodation article was for a supplement to the local newspaper."

  "I can see you are enjoying your work."

  "It pays my bond and puts bread on the table," she answered modestly. She never thought much about her work or herself.

  "That is what we all want," he agreed and walked to the door. "Shall we go? You will have to wait for me at my house while I shower and get dressed."

  Henk's massive double-story house stood behind the centre where she bumped into him in his various aliases so often. The décor was stylish, and while he showered, she looked at the photos and paintings on the study walls. She could see many photos of the children in their various stages of development. On some of the photos she could see a beautiful blonde woman, with laughing eyes, who could only be the mother of his children. Judging by the photos they were a happy and close family, and they were probably devastated by the death of the key figure.

  What else could have happened to her?

  Sad and touched by what she saw in the photos, Lana turned around and walked to the lounge. In the one corner she immediately noticed an old piano, and she opened it. She could not remember when last she had played, but suddenly she wanted to hear what this piano would sound like. She started testing the chords, and before long she was very absorbed in her own music. How long did she play? She had no idea, but when she replaced the cloth and closed the piano, she found Henk sitting in a chair behind her. She jumped up guiltily.

  "I am sorry. I should have asked. It was very pompous of me."

  "You can come and play any time. Nobody has touched the notes for the last two years." He rubbed his face and smiled.

  "I assume your wife was the one who played. Oh Henk, I am sorry if my playing has opened wounds again." She stroked the piano. "I just could not resist and I could not keep my hands off."

  "Please bring your hands as often as you would like to. This house was always filled with music. My wife used to teach all the children from the area."

  "How long ago did she die?"

  "What makes you think that she died? Our paths separated and she got married again."

  "The photos. Most people keep photos of deceased spouses on display, but not of divorced ones."

  "What about the children? It is still their home. Anyway, I still believe she will come to her senses and come back to me. She is married, but I heard it is not going that well with them." Henk stood up and pointed at the door. "Let us go and have breakfast at the Home Industry, then I can introduce you to my daughter and sister, depending on who is there today."

  So that was why Henk did not have a girlfriend. He was still waiting for his ex-wife to return. From her own experience Lana knew that he was in for a long wait.

  Henk's sister and daughter were both in the shop and the four of them sat down for breakfast. They had such a good time that breakfast turned into a feast, carrying on until twelve o'clock.

  "Now you will have to stay for lunch, Daddy," his daughter said.

  "No, we still have business to attend to. Lana's cell phone was stolen yesterday. She has to buy a new one and I have a meeting to attend in Malelane." He took out his wallet to pay the bill, under protest from his sister and daughter.

  "No, it was on the house!"

  "Come. Lana, let's go. This house will not make any money if everybody can eat on the house," he teased as he left the money on the table.

  After they got into the car each of them was lost in their own thoughts for a while. Then Henk broke the silence.

  "I thought …"

  "Was that out of the ordinary? "She asked snappily.

  "Ha ha. No, actually I think quite often. Is there anybody anywhere on earth that you can trust wholeheartedly? Somebody who other people would contact to find out where you are if they could not get hold of you?"

  "Yes, my sons."

  "And where are they?" he asked.

  "In my duet house in Faerie Glen. But what are you getting at?"

  "It is very simple. Don't tell anybody except your two sons that your cell phone has been stolen, and don't tell anybody where you are at the moment."

  "They kno
w already."

  "Who else knows, besides them?" He glanced at her before concentrating on the road again.

  "Only them and my two best friends."

  "Your magazine editors?"

  "The one who was here on New Year’s Day. With the others I communicate via e-mail."

  "Good. Don't give this new number to anybody else, besides these four people. Only for a while, until the dust has settled over the computer. Then we can observe what is going to happen."

  "Yes Mister Detective."

  "Detective? Is that what a detective would have done? Mister Detective, my new title?" He frowned and thought for a while. Then he nodded in agreement. "Yes, I prefer it to hardware man, estate agent, safari-man, pest controller and doctor. It sounds more exciting. I have always wanted to be a detective. Just call me PI."

  "Yes, PI, but what do you think you will achieve in that way?"

  "We will find out if the person is so desperate that he would try to find out where your old cell phone and its new owner are traveling. Then he will realize that your phone was stolen and try to find out what your new number is. That will be the only way we can determine how much effort the person is prepared to put in to find you and the computer."

  "You sound exactly like a PI."

  "That is one of my many talents."

  "And what are the others?"

  "I am hiding them safely under a bushel," he teased and glanced at her with a twinkle in his eyes.

  "Be careful, you might come back to look for them and find them stolen as well," she warned.

  "Like opportunities that pass you by because your focus is somewhere else." Henk parked in front of the cell phone shop and looked at her searchingly before opening the door.

  She wondered what the reason was for the sudden seriousness. She hoped he did not notice how the expression on his face touched her, as she felt the warmth spreading over her whole body and into her face.