by John Wilcox
Dunn stood up and walked to the window, looking through the dirty panes with unseeing eyes. ‘Trouble is, Miss Griffith,’ he continued in a low voice, ‘my pride was on the line. I didn’t want to limp back home to Natal with nothing to show for my long journey, and I couldn’t see any other chance on the horizon. Mendoza could see I was hovering, so he offered me a room in his place in Currey Street, where, he said, he lived with some “associates”.’ Dunn emphasised the word heavily. ‘He said I could live there rent free, as part of the deal. However, he also said that he used the place for business and there would be no room for me there during the day-time. Bed and breakfast, so to speak. I could only return at the end of the working shift.
‘It seemed a bit strange,’ he looked across at Alice with a half-smile, ‘but I decided to take it. Until I earned money, I had nothing with which to pay rent anyway - and, Miss Griffith,’ the sad smile widened, ‘I was thinking of those diamonds.’ His eyes lit up at the mention of the stones. ‘They do get to a man, you know.’
Alice nodded. ‘So I’ve heard.’
‘The next day I moved into this place in Currey Street and I decided to send for Nandi to keep me company.’ His voice grew tender and almost apologetic. ‘Y’see, I had been accustomed to having her around for so long and, well, I suppose I missed her.’ He shot Alice a quick glance. ‘Shouldn’t have done it, but I did. I was lonely and I thought she could keep house for us, so to speak, and the place stank to high heaven and obviously needed a good clean and a woman’s touch generally.’
‘Why didn’t you send for Catherine, your . . . er . . . number one wife?’
‘She had to stay to keep what was left of the family together. Anyway, I sent the letter off and then I told Mendoza, never thinking for a moment that he would object, because I knew that there was a little room in the house where she could sleep and she could earn her keep by looking after us. But he grew very angry and I then saw the dirty side of him.’
‘What happened?’
‘He told me that I had no right to get anyone else in; that it was his house and it would not be possible for her to stay there during the day, and so on. He worked himself into a right rage and told me to write to her cancelling my original instruction . . . It was all very strange. Anyway, I sent off another letter to Nandi telling her not to come and started work on the mine, shovelling with the Kaffirs. I didn’t have much idea of what I was doing, but at least I was working again. We found no diamonds that day, nor the next, but on the third, one or two little stones came up on my shovel. Not much and not very valuable, but enough to encourage me to keep digging.’
‘Where was Mendoza during this time?’
‘I did not see him during the day-time at all, but he took the couple of diamonds from me and, later, showed me a receipt for them from a buying agent. We got forty pounds for them and he gave me twenty - my first earnings for quite some months. So that encouraged me to keep going for a time, but nothing else turned up on our little ledge - and the Kaffirs had stopped turning up also. I was told that they were temporarily working at another mine but I started to smell a rat, particularly as Mendoza was now virtually ignoring me at the house in the evenings and his associates had turned out to be big bruisers who treated me with a kind of contempt.’
‘How awful.’
‘Well, I’m not exactly a blushing veldt rose, but it was all getting me down, particularly as I began to feel that our patch contained as many diamonds as there are tigers in the Transvaal. There was also this strange, foul smell about the house. Then I began thinking about why I was not allowed into the place during the day-time and wondering what was going on there. So one afternoon I slipped back to Currey Street and watched the place for a while.’
Dunn paused at this point, and his eyes puckered as he recalled the memory. The silence hung heavily in the room and was eventually broken by the woman below slamming a bucket down. The big man seemed to jerk back into the present, but stayed silent.
‘What happened?’ demanded Alice. ‘What was going on there?’
Dunn turned and sat again. ‘While I watched,’ he said slowly, ‘a succession of black workers from the mines arrived throughout the afternoon. They would stay for a quarter of an hour or so and then leave. About five of ’em came and went in a couple of hours. They went in and out of the front door, so while the last one was inside, I slipped down the alleyway at the side of the house, climbed the fence and looked through a window. I was able to make out Mendoza and one of his hard men washing something in a bowl on the table. They were quite excited, so they didn’t see me peering in. They were washing diamonds - and God knows what the stones were covered in, but the smell was awful. Then a black feller came in from the passageway, slinging up his trousers, and I realised what they were up to.’
Alice was frowning. ‘I am sorry, Mr Dunn, but I don’t quite follow.’
‘The details don’t matter, miss. But these Kaffirs were not our chaps. They were from the deep diggings - the mines that were turning up diamonds in the soil like currants in a cake - and they were stealing stones, smuggling them out of the mines past the security people and selling them to Mendoza. No wonder he didn’t want me in the house during the day.’
‘But why would he want you to be involved at all?’
‘I’ve thought about that and I am still not quite sure. But first of all there was the money I paid him. He’s a crook and couldn’t resist the temptation of picking up an easy profit. Then I suppose he wanted some poor fool to continue working the mine to give him cover, because, you see, the big owners are getting very jumpy about stolen diamonds and suspicious of people who hang about the place without visible means of support, so to speak. With him still owning a mine which was being worked, it took the spotlight off him for a while, so that, while I was digging for him, he could operate his racket in Currey Street.’
‘Go on.’ Alice was by now hanging on his every word.
‘The Kaffir left - by the front door, luckily - and then they put the little pile of diamonds that, presumably, they had collected that day into a small hessian sack, pulled up a floorboard and deposited the sack there. I decided I had seen enough so I did a silly thing.’ Dunn shook his head and looked at Alice with reproachful eyes. ‘I resolved to have it out with Mendoza then and there and went straight to the back door and banged on it. They let me in and I strode in and said, “Right. What the hell’s going on?”
‘I remember angry words and Mendoza losing his temper but not much more because someone hit me over the head with a very hard object.’ He fingered his scalp. ‘Just here, see?’
Alice drew in her breath. ‘That could have fractured your skull.’
‘Damn near did. Anyway, I went out like a light and only came to in the cold air. I must have been out for about three hours because it was pitch black as well as cold. I realised that I was being trundled along in a cart and that, strangely, I stank to high heaven of whisky.’
‘Whisky? Had you been drinking?’
‘Not a drop since I had started working on the mine. No, it was on my shirt, which had been saturated by the stuff. Then suddenly I was seized and carried out of the cart, and for the first time I realised where I was.’ He paused, as if for effect.
‘Yes, yes,’ said Alice, her eyes wide, ‘where were you?’
‘At the mine and being carried to the edge of the Big Hole. I knew what they were going to do and I tried to struggle but I was still muzzy and didn’t have much strength. Before I knew it, I was flying through the air, legs flailing, down towards the bottom of that infernal drop.’
Alice put her hand to her mouth. ‘Oh my goodness. How far did you fall?’
‘Well, it’s about three hundred and fifty feet all the way - and if I had gone all the way, I wouldn’t be here talking to you now. But, of course, I didn’t. I suppose me kicking my legs must have saved my life for I caught one of the devils on the shoulder as he was heaving me and, presumably, he wasn’t able to put his ful
l weight into the throw. Anyway, I hit the side of the hole and just bounced down into the blackness until . . .’
‘Yes?’
‘Some sort of bush, stunted but sturdy, saved me. I don’t know how far I fell but perhaps it wasn’t all that far because I hadn’t gathered sufficient momentum to crash through that bit of bush. Anyway, it brought me up with a jerk and there I stayed, bent round it like a hairpin.’
Alice had meant to take notes of Dunn’s story but it had been so dramatic that she had forgotten to produce pencil and notebook. She remained looking at Dunn, her eyes wide. ‘So they tried to kill you, to murder you in cold blood?’
‘Oh yes. As I lay there, with - as I found out later - a broken arm, two broken ribs and a head which had been hit very hard many times . . . as I lay there, miss, in a lot of pain, I realised what the plot was. They had doused me with whisky and thrown me to the bottom, as they thought, with the idea that I would be found and buried as just another drunken old digger who had slipped over the edge of his plot. That had happened before. Luckily, it was dark and they couldn’t see I hadn’t gone all the way down.’
‘I see. How were you found?’
Dunn smiled ruefully. ‘I’ve no idea. I obviously slipped back into unconsciousness because the next thing I knew it was daylight and I was being gradually winched to the top, lashed into an earth bucket and dangling from one of the hawsers that link up to the diggings at the bottom. That hurt a fair bit too, I can tell you, and the pain knocked me out again. When I came round, I was in some sort of makeshift hospital, under canvas, at the mine. My arm was in splints and my head bound up and I had bandages round my ribs, but,’ he smiled again, ‘I was not getting much respect. They thought I was an old drunkard.
‘Anyway, my main thought was to get out of there because I feared that the news might get back to Mendoza and Co. that they hadn’t quite got rid of me and they would come round again to finish me off. So I hobbled out of the little compound which had been set up as a first-aid post. Nobody stopped me and I somehow found my way back to the place where I had stayed on first arrival. Those so-and-so’s had not emptied my pockets and I still had some of that twenty quid on me, so the dear old biddy in my lodgings was happy to put me up there and keep quiet about it. What was left of the rest of my money was back in Currey Street. I lay up for a while, trying to get my strength back and thinking what to do next. It didn’t take me long to make up my mind.’
Alice frowned. ‘Surely you went to the authorities?’
‘What authorities? The army is the only real force, but the nearest contingents were here, in Pretoria. Anyway, I had a better idea.’
For the first time since he had begun his story, Dunn looked uncomfortable. ‘Now, I’m not exactly proud of this next bit, miss,’ he said, his eyes not quite meeting Alice’s, ‘because I have always been a law-abiding man. But I was pretty desperate by this time, y’see - and also pretty damned angry. These people had tricked me, stolen what little money I had, tried to kill me and left me for dead. As I lay there I decided that I wasn’t having that, not at all.’
‘So . . . ?’
‘So, after about a week, when I felt a bit better, I spent what was left of the money I had in buying a pistol and then, in the middle of the night, I crept out of my digs and paid a visit to Currey Street. I must confess that I was scared as hell, because I knew that if I met up with Mendoza and his gang I was in no position to fight and would have to shoot to kill, but I decided to take the risk. I managed to get over that fence again - God knows how I did it with busted ribs, but I did - and prised open the padlock on the back door to the house. The wood round it was pretty rotten and I was able to cut into it with hardly a sound. I crept into that back room and . . . found what I was looking for.’
Alice sucked in her breath. ‘The diamonds?’
Dunn nodded. ‘The floorboard lifted easily and there was the sack. It must have been just before Mendoza was due to sell ’em on, because that sack was pretty full.’ He gave a wan smile. ‘I was out of there like a greased lizard and back in my little boarding house without disturbing a soul. The next day I left town, reckoning that Mendoza would soon work out who had taken the stones, because he would have heard by now that the Big Hole had coughed up an old sozzler who’d then walked away from the hospital tent. I figured that it wouldn’t take him long to track me down, so I bought some ammo for my pistol and a horse with one of the stones - and rode away as quickly as I could.’
‘Where did you go?’
‘On the way over from Natal, I had stayed in a farm about twenty miles out on the veldt, with a Boer chap I had known in ’Maritzburg. He could see I was still in bad shape but he didn’t ask any questions and put me up. Trouble was, I didn’t have any cash left, only the diamonds, so I decided I would have to sell one or two of them pretty quickly so that I could pay my way until I could set off home again.’ Dunn pulled at his beard. ‘Problem was, I didn’t want to take any risks by going to a respectable diamond buyer. He might want to see proof of origin and that sort of stuff. So I needed a kopje walloper.’
‘A what?’
‘Ach, sorry. They’re unofficial diamond buyers. Usually they trade in stolen diamonds and buy from the Kaffirs. They kill you on price because they usually pay the blacks in what’s called “Cape smoke” - uniforms, old watches, even mouth organs - but of course they don’t ask questions. My Boer farmer knew one, and as soon as I was able I rode into town to meet him. He looked at what I offered him and said that he would buy but didn’t have the cash with him and would have to meet me next day to finalise the deal. I didn’t like the sound of that but I had no option. So I arranged to meet him on the edge of town - I didn’t want to be trapped in no office.’
Alice realised that she had been sitting in the gloomy bedroom for almost an hour. She had still not taken a note but that mattered little, for every twist of Dunn’s story was now stored away in her mind. She nodded for him to continue.
‘I rode back next day; it was very early in the morning, just after dawn, because this feller didn’t want to be seen with me. I took my pistol and approached this barn where we were to meet with great caution. He was inside all right and seemed to be completely alone. He handed over the money as right as rain and took the three diamonds I gave him. Then he said that he would buy the rest and offered me a very good price for them.
‘I might have realised something was wrong, because the price seemed too good - and he also offered to come to the farm the next morning to save me the trouble of riding into town. He asked me where I was staying and,’ Dunn shook his head, ‘I was fool enough to tell him. Then I saw a movement behind a hay bale and realised that it was an ambush. I grabbed the walloper round the throat, stuck my pistol in his ear and shouted, “Come closer and I’ll kill him!” What an idiot!’ A grin creased his face. ‘They didn’t care a toss whether I killed him or not now that they knew where I was keeping the rest of the diamonds, and they let off with their own pistols. Luckily, I was protected by the walloper and he took a slug in the chest. I shot back and made ’em duck behind the hay bales, which gave me just enough time to drop the walloper and get out of the barn, slamming the door behind me and slipping the bar into the padlock. Then I ran as best I could to my horse and rode off.’
Alice’s mouth remained open for a moment as her imagination recreated the scene. ‘Did they follow you?’
‘No. Couldn’t think why at first, though I knew it would take ’em a minute or two to get out of the barn. Then I realised that they probably hadn’t picked up the name of the farm and that either they had killed the walloper or he was too badly injured to talk and tell them where I was staying. But I soon found out . . .’
‘Yes?’
‘I decided to leave the farm as soon as I could because I knew it would only be a matter of time before Mendoza came calling, but Van der Watt - he’s the farmer, splendid chap - told me I was still too cut up to ride far and that it was unlikely the Portuguese woul
d attack the farm openly. So I stayed put waiting and worrying but they didn’t show up.’
The Natalian paused for a moment and rubbed his good hand across his face, kneading his eyes with thick fingers. Alice sat thinking. Eventually she asked, ‘But where does Nandi fit into all this?’
Dunn blinked. ‘Funny you should ask that,’ he said, ‘because she fits in more or less about now in the story.’
‘How?’
‘Well, I had written to her about three weeks before telling her not to come and I presumed that I had caught her before she set off, because there would have been things she had to do before leaving Catherine. But I didn’t. She must have been almost waiting for me to call her, and set off virtually as soon as she received the letter. She arrived, of course, after I left the damned house.’
‘How do you know?’
‘After I had been sitting in the farm, my pistol in me lap, for about three days, a black boy arrives - I recognised him because he was one of the Kaffirs digging with me on our mine. He’d brought a letter from Mendoza. It was just a note which said, “We’ve got your daughter. Bring the diamonds and you can have her.”’
‘How did you know they weren’t bluffing?’
‘Good point. In the envelope was one of the little scarves she used to wear. I would know it anywhere. I questioned the Kaffir and it was clear that Nandi had arrived just after I’d pinched the diamonds. They must have realised, of course, that it was me, so they kept her to bargain with me. So - what to do? Of course, I had to get Nandi out of there but I knew that they wouldn’t let me stay alive after I had given them the diamonds because I knew too much. I am not fool enough to think that Mendoza would do a fair swap. Once they had the diamonds they would kill both Nandi and me. So I sort of compromised. I wrote to him saying that I would do the deal - provided that Nandi was unharmed in every way - but only in a public place, like the big square in the middle of the town, where we could all be seen. But he wasn’t having any. Two days later he sent me back a note saying that would be too dangerous and that he stood the risk of having the diamonds confiscated by the mine security people, who were always on the lookout for stones passing from hand to hand in this sort of way. No. I had to come to the house.’