by Quig Shelby
‘Where’s the toilet please?’ he asked.
‘Just down the hallway on the right. But don’t be too long, I need to go through the aftercare.’
But the stranger with the name Kobus Jonker was out of ear shot, and he wasn’t coming back.
There was an owl in the trees close by, as Din poured gasoline onto the makeshift pyre of twigs and brambles. The assembled survivors counted themselves lucky as Vankoni’s body went up in flames. Dela said a few words, but no one was really listening. It was a shame she couldn’t bring the dead back to the living, but that was one trick eluding her - for now.
They all sat around the fire warming themselves, as Themba turned up the gas. They were watching the rubble, and smouldering embers of St Agnes on the news.
‘The police have no explanation for the fire,’ said the newscaster ‘but have found at least one body.’
Everyone hoped it was Dela.
‘I really don’t feel safe staying here,’ said Eudy.
It was a feeling echoed by them all, but where would they be safe? No one wanted to appear avaricious, but they knew Bheki had made a killing from the statues.
They needed to get away, if only for a short while, and Bheki was about to answer everyone’s prayers.
‘What about a holiday?’ she asked them.
‘Where too?’ asked Themba, imagining exotic spots in the sun, far away from the frost.
‘Let’s all go the Christmas market in Cologne; it looks magical,’ said Bheki.
She went to fetch the brochures she had gathered earlier, stamped Serpentine Travels, and handed them out.
‘You mean it?’ asked Eudy looking at the pictures in delight.
She’d also longed for a fairy tale Christmas as far back as their days in Mozambique.
‘Why not?,’ responded Bheki.
There was a whoop of delight from Eudy, and seeing her smile light up the room was enough to sway Themba.
Bheki kissed Joost on the forehead but he wasn’t quite as convinced as the others; Christmas was a time for families.
‘Don’t worry, this treat’s on me,’ said Bheki ‘you’ve done enough - for the time being.’
‘This calls for a toast,’ said Joost trying to pick up his spirits, and he went to open the champagne.
‘To the future,’ they all said as their glasses chinked.
But they still needed a new property when they returned, and there was a haunting feeling of remorse for poor Pastor Abel Goodyear, and his widow Miriam.
Chapter Forty Three
Joost looked in the mirror, and tentatively lifted the eye patch. The wound appeared clean and was pain free, but the change in appearance was drastic; much more than a new haircut, or a pair of spectacles. He felt different too, almost as though he was looking at someone else.
Bheki was a blessing because she actually liked it, though it did make him look heroic in a combative way. Still the lack of distance perception was annoying, especially behind the wheel.
‘Joost come quickly,’ shouted Bheki from her lounge ‘it’s on TV again.’
He rushed into the room, and sat next to a quiet Eudy and Themba, on the last beanbag.
‘The fire at St Agnes has been put out,’ read the newscaster ‘but who are the mysterious bodies? Our reporter spoke to the vicar earlier on.’
In front of camera was James Middlemass, looking shocked with all his might, and with the ruins of St Agnes behind him.
‘I’m completely horrified that someone would do this,’ said James.
‘So you don’t think it was an accident? asked the reporter.
‘Well the police have said there were three bodies inside,’ he replied.
‘And you have no idea who they are Reverend?’
‘How could I, we don’t open in the night,’ James replied.
‘And ...’
James cut him off.
‘Look I don’t really have anything else to say. I’ve already told the police everything I know.’
‘Reverend, the police say the bodies were of two men and a woman. Any comment?’
‘Not at all, I’m as mystified as everyone else at the moment,’ said James.
‘But ...’
‘I really have nothing else to say on the matter,’ said James, and like St Agnes before him he disappeared.
The police were next, appealing for information. As the camera panned from left to right one last time, they saw a striped moggy dancing across the coals.
‘One dead female,’ mused Joost.
‘It could be Dela,’ said Bheki hopefully.
‘Maybe,’ said Joost although he didn’t really believe it. But he did hope it wasn’t Lucy; she could still come in handy.
Themba sighed.
‘Well at least they’ve learnt their lesson,’ said Eudy optimistically.
But Bheki knew albino gangs never gave up, and so did Eudy in the pit of her stomach. What they didn’t know, was that Dela was eyeing a prize much more valuable than muti, and revenge; one that would buy them some breathing space.
‘Rooibos anyone?’ asked Themba.
As the rain continued to pour, they chose a hotel in Cologne, and it wouldn’t be another Mephisto.
‘We can’t take that,’ said James almost hysterically.
‘Why not?’ asked Christine looking down at her grey woollen coat on the bed.
‘It needs dry cleaning,’ said James.
‘Honestly James, what’s got into you lately?’ asked Christine.
‘I can’t help it,’ he replied. ‘You remember that guy Lance, the patient,’ he said.
‘Yes.’
‘Well I helped to send him on his way with an iron.’
Christine burst out laughing, and for the first time in years he found it quite erotic.
‘Yes, well I know I’ve always left the housework to you. So I thought if I used an iron perhaps I could be a bit more enthusiastic with the chores. Unfortunately ...’ said James.
‘James you’re such a love,’ and she kissed him on the cheek.
In spite of Koni’s death, or perhaps because of it, Christine now felt happier with James. And she was looking forward to their trip with Lucy. As an early Christmas present they were taking her away. It had been so long since any of them had taken a holiday, and in her heyday Christine had been a globe trotter.
‘Remind me to buy a travel iron before we leave, just in case the hotel doesn’t have one,’ said James.
‘James they all have irons these days, it’s not like when you went to Burundi all those years ago,’ said Christine.
‘What if it’s broke?’ asked James, looking concerned.
‘OK, OK,’ said Christine holding up her hands ‘we’ll get one.’
James was mightily relieved, after all some of his trousers were already creasing in the case.
Lucy and Christine were in the kitchen, talking excitedly about the trip. And Lucy could look her mum in the eye again, now her lover Koni was dead. James was upstairs in his study contemplating.
Burundi he thought. That’s where it had all began, where he first met Christine the adventurer, and voodoo. After his ordination James’ predilection for young boys was given full reign over the choir. He’d wanted to stop but found Jonathan Lacey irresistible; he blamed John, and not himself. The way the sun caught his blonde hair through the stained glass windows, the chorister’s ruffled collar, and his sweet angelic voice.
When suspicions and whispers began to circulate in the cloisters the Bishop didn’t see it that way. James was booted to Burundi, where he went in search of a cure.
A witchdoctor by the name of Augustine Tiberius made a special potion that in the ensuing fever nearly killed him, but drove out his paedophilic
demons. Then he fell in love with Christine, the first woman he had ever kissed.
The Bishop may have saved the Church’s reputation, and James too, but they left poor John martyred, and to carry his cross for the rest of his life.
James opened the letter on his desk; he recognised Eve’s hand writing. Thankfully there were no embarrassing accusations, or worse, threats, just a short terse note to say she had officially resigned her post, and had left the area and the Church. He needed a drink, to celebrate.
Felix was sitting on top of the case, trying to get it to close. Eventually Dela could pull the zip around, leaving just one more case to pack.
They were leaving Plackcedes in the flat whilst they took a short break to see some of Dela’s continental followers. Naturally they had gifts; it was Christmas. So in went Irena’s atlas bone, and nine voodoo dolls which would help to fill Felix’s Christmas stockings.
The atlas bone would fetch a pretty penny, being enhanced with powers from its position in the body; sitting between brain and body. Irena had sure had the body, but not the brains.
The voodoo dolls were all in the image of Santa Claus, in the spirit of the festive season.
Felix looked at Dela but was frightened to ask. If he wanted the chastity cage removed she would burden him with an extra week at least; but he was becoming painfully swollen by the hour.
‘Go and take another cold shower,’ said Dela sensing his frustration building.
Felix shrugged his shoulders.
‘Unless you want Plackcedes to use the strap again,’ she said.
He scuttled off to the bathroom.
Late afternoon, and they were sombrely dressed at the entrance to Miriam’s house. It was jam packed, and you could barely squeeze your way in.
In the lounge Miriam was laughing. Her maudlin veil had lifted, and although not quite the merry widow she was reflecting on the good times she and Abel had shared. She beckoned Bheki and her suitor to join them.
‘How’s the eye Joost?’ asked Miriam.
‘It’s fine, thanks to you,’ he replied.
She smiled.
‘Abel asks that you be careful Joost,’ said Miriam.
Joost looked into her sparkling eyes.
‘I still see him you know,’ she said with a wry smile.
Joost acknowledged her feelings with a nod. He had seen Stella and Hildy too. Not just in every room after their murders, but in Frank Sleigh’s scrying glass.
‘He’s settled in quickly,’ said Miriam.
Then as an afterthought she added ‘he probably misses his desk more than me,’ and laughed.
‘Nonsense,’ said the singing preacher joining them, and carrying his donations bucket. ‘You were the love of his life.’
For a brief moment Miriam’s brave face looked sad, and Bheki hugged her.
They circulated at the wake, amongst the mourners. Most were from The Church of the Loving Saints, but some were from Africa, having caught a flight as soon as they’d heard.
Frank Sleigh tugged on Joost’s sleeve.
‘A truly great man,’ said Frank, with a drink in one hand, and some nibbles in the other.
‘Indeed,’ answered Joost.
‘I’ve seen him too,’ said Frank.
‘How is he?’ asked Joost, as though they were discussing an old friend who’d moved abroad.
‘He’s fine. He misses Miriam naturally, but he’s got plenty of friends over there showing him the ropes.’
‘You know the dead seem so close,’ said Frank ‘almost as though they could step right back to this side.’
Joost smiled, and the thought warmed his heart.
‘Now wouldn’t that be something,’ said Frank.
They stopped a little longer; it would have been impolite not to eat, and Mai was feeding the five thousand. Bheki made a contribution for them all, and the singing preacher happily wrote £5,000 next to their names. Once the police released his body, Abel would take his last flight back home.
Themba idled by the large lit window looking at the properties. It was the fourth estate agent they had passed on their way to the tube. He pointed at the house, but Joost and Eudy had already seen it, and Bheki was collecting the details inside.
Chapter Forty Four
As the plane made its descent, Bheki looked out of the window; the airport below looked like an ice skating rink. She said prayers to Jesus and Ayza the protector, and then held onto Joost’s arm. Eudy was on her other side, with Themba behind them, fast asleep as the wheels touched down.
It was mid-morning, and after a taxi ride to the Four Star Radisson Blu Hotel they were ready to see the sights. Eudy was wrapped up like an Egyptian mummy, whilst Bheki was more conscious of keeping her voluptuous curves on show; she didn’t have a wedding ring on her finger just yet.
There were half a dozen Christmas markets in Cologne, but they were drawn to the stalls by the Cathedral, and the giant Christmas tree that stood outside. It wasn’t the warm blue sea Themba had imagined, but waves of humanity undulated in the spaces between the stalls.
The aroma of spicy mulled wine wafted by their noses; they bought a drink each. It warmed their hearts, and their hands. Most of the hundred plus stalls sold food, and they eventually succumbed to the bratwurst.
Bheki and Eudy stopped at the handmade candles, and painted baubles with their nativity scenes. Joost’s eye was fixed on the Russian dolls. And there was another watching through the madding crowd; Lucy Middlemass stood open mouthed.
‘Are you alright darling?’ asked Christine.
‘I’m fine mother.’
‘Maybe it’s too much,’ said James.
‘Yes, after all you’ve only just found your feet,’ said Christine.
Lucy took one last glance at Joost, and decided to guide her parents away.
‘Yes, you’re right,’ said Lucy ‘it is overwhelming. Let’s go over there.’
And she pointed to the stalls on the periphery, where there was space to breath.
The stall holder was still opening and closing the Russian dolls in front of Joost as Lucy gave her parents the slip. She hurriedly wrote a note in eye pencil on her gingerbread wrapper, and grabbed her purse.
Joost moved on undecided, disorientated by his vision, and the numbers pushing against him. Lucy caught sight of his head, as she quickly bought the dolls. She pushed her way through, no longer the cripple, and stood in front of Bheki and Joost. Immediately they were alarmed, but Lucy appeared alone.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said.
No one else knew what to say.
‘Here take this’ said Lucy, and she thrust the dolls into Joost’s arms ‘a present.’
Then she disappeared.
‘How very strange,’ said Joost.
‘Is she alone?’ asked Bheki, trying in vain to see where she had gone.
Joost shrugged his shoulders, and Themba put his arms around Eudy for protection.
‘Let’s go back to the hotel,’ said Eudy.
‘That’s where you are,’ said Christine mightily relieved.
‘Where have you been?’ asked James.
‘Sorry, I got lost,’ replied Lucy ‘but I’ve found my way now.’
Joost put the wooden dolls on the bed.
‘It must be a trap,’ said Bheki.
Joost went to separate the first doll; a large Santa Claus.
‘Be careful,’ said Eudy.
They all knew Dela had a penchant for dolls.
The next doll was painted as a large Christmas tree, and still no bomb exploded. But there was a surprise waiting further down the line.
Between the snowman, and the penguin with the red bow tie, a note was sandwiched.
‘Call me, I want to help,’ and there w
as a number.
‘No way,’ said Themba.
‘We can’t trust her,’ said Bheki.
They were right of course, but Joost placed the note back in the safety of the dolls, for now.
‘Well for goodness sake let’s not sit around dejected, we’ve only got tonight and tomorrow,’ said Joost.
They tried to pick themselves up, and took in the sights, although it seemed they weren’t safe anywhere. But they did have an appetite, and Joost needed all his strength for tonight.
Lucy was washing her hands again. She wasn’t developing OCD like her father but they were covered in blood, and how much she regretted everything; now she could walk again.
Lucy’s life now seemed perfect; she was as pretty as a picture, healthy with child bearing hips, romantic, and extremely bright. No longer deceived by bitterness she wanted to right her wrongs. She was praying to God once more, and not the Spirits, and whatever help she could offer Joost she would. Naturally there was one proviso; in spite of her parents’ misdemeanours, their folly should be spared. She would wait all night for a call from Joost, but it wouldn’t come.
Dela and Felix were standing in the hotel lobby across from two Russian Mafioso, a German steel magnate, and a Chinese immigrant who had restaurants across the continent. Felix held a briefcase.
The magnate hugged Dela, and why not. She had brought his son back to life from a coma last year. The Russians were more orthodox and shook hands. Mr Li went round greeting everyone.
‘Where shall we go gentleman?’ asked Dela.
Mr Li had recently opened a flagship restaurant in Cologne, but the Russians wanted some steak, rare. They too had seen their business prosper, although theirs depended more on execution than expediency and planning permission.
Ponchos Steakhouse was in the basement, and busy. They were shown a table, and ordered. Joost had been holding onto Bheki all day, and just had to get his mouth round a nice fat rump. The others ordered steak with gorgonzola sauce. It was organised chaos, as the waiters danced between the tables. Joost and Themba were drinking steins of beer, as the volume raised the roof. Bheki was sipping a Malbec wine and knew what response she would elicit from Joost later, in the privacy of their hotel room. Eudy had apple juice.