by Marion Leigh
‘I don’t think so. I checked the colour of the stones on the lid, but go easy just the same.’ He twinkled at Mrs. Pinderally who patted his hand.
‘Charmer!’
‘The operation is going well,’ he said in an aside to Petra. ‘It looks as though we’ll get all the proof we need to nab the villains.’
‘Does Sandrine have any idea what’s going on?’
‘None at this stage, but she’ll be furious when she finds out. Hubert’s photographer got some good footage of Sandrine distributing tins, some with red and blue stones in the middle, along with instructions to the wedding guests to put them in their luggage. Talking of which, we must go. We don’t want to miss our flight to Geneva.’
Mrs. Pinderally sat up and removed the white turban from her head. ‘It is impossible for Miss Petra to leave without a Rolling Sands massage. She is full of tension and turmoil.’
‘There’s no time, Mrs. Pinderally. Thank you anyway,’ Petra said.
‘I have another rabbit up my sleeve. Ali is bringing messages. Then he will explain the devious means by which we were able to rescue Miss Vicky and play you the video.’
‘Messages?’
‘Indeed. Here he is.’
Ali appeared carrying a silver tray on which were an envelope and a gaily wrapped package. He bowed to Petra and handed her the envelope.
‘An email from Mr. Zen, offering position on a farm near Langebaan, and an email from a new man, Mr. Martin Johnson. He wants to tell you all about his visit to Spain with Betty Graceby.’
Petra grinned. ‘Thank you, Ali.’
‘Mr. Zen is too late,’ Mrs. Pinderally said. ‘And who is this new man? Is he handsome? Do you lust for him?’
‘Martin is an old friend, nothing more,’ Petra said, trying not to smile at the glower on Carlo’s face.
Mrs. Pinderally looked from Petra to Carlo and rubbed her hands. ‘Ah! Romance is so exciting! Leaving now would be a shame. Miss Vicky has a message.’
Vicky stepped forward with a sheet of paper on which were printed the words “One week’s vacation extension all expenses paid. With our heartfelt thanks for saving the day, from Arnold Dunlin and Uncle A.K.”.
‘My Magic Carpet Number One pink limousine is at your disposal. See to it, Ali. Now the package!’
Petra took the package and cocked her head at Mrs. Pinderally. ‘For me?’
‘From Mr. Pinderally, God rest his soul, and myself in remembrance of your momentous visit.’
Petra unwrapped the package and opened the box. Inside was one of Mrs. Pinderally’s jewellery trees holding the most magnificent diamond ring she had ever seen.
‘I can’t accept this, Mrs. Pinderally!’
‘Why not? That is my favourite lady and the ring is a Petra Diamond. Miss Vicky says I should sell some of my ladies to pay for a school and home for those poor babies, and that is what I will do. But this one I give to you.’
Petra slipped the ring onto the fourth finger of her right hand. It fitted perfectly.
Mrs. Pinderally heaved a huge sigh of satisfaction. ‘Now Miss Vicky will give you your Rolling Sands massage. For that you must take off your clothes.’
‘All of them?’
‘Indeed.’
‘Promise I won’t look, cara.’
Petra shrugged. They were high above the level of the other boats, Florian and Father John were incapacitated and miles away, and Carlo would be out of taunting range while he returned Lucy to the airport.
That evening, after everyone else had gone to bed, Petra and Carlo sat on Scheherazade’s aft deck and shared a bottle of Veuve Clicquot.
Carlo raised his glass to Petra. ‘Another job well done, tesoro mio! I salute you! And Interpol salutes you and has extended my vacation for as long as it takes to clear up the Broselli/Delapore smuggling ring.’
‘I’m glad, Carlo. I couldn’t leave yet. It’s been such a crazy three weeks that I need time to come to terms with it all – the beauty, the fraud, the doublespeak. I can understand why Sandrine and Tony did what they did, but Florian?’
‘To understand Florian, you have to understand Africa, how it can breed someone like him, an animal, a beautiful animal, someone who believes he’s king of the jungle.’
‘What do you think will happen to him now?’
‘I don’t know. But he won’t want to be in a cage.’
Glossary
Afrikaans
a language of southern Africa derived from Dutch
Afrikaner
Afrikaans-speaking white person
Amarula Cream
liqueur made from the fruit of the marula tree which elephants love
bateaux mouches
flat-topped cruise boats on the Seine River in Paris
bobotie
South African dish of curried minced meat with a savoury custard
bontebok
small antelope with a chestnut back, white face, belly and rump
braai
South African word for barbecue, from Afrikaans
cara
Italian for ‘dear’
carissima
Italian for ‘dearest’
dagga
South African word for cannabis or marijuana
dragées
sugared almonds
eland
the largest African antelope, with spiral horns and a dewlap
fynbos
distinctive type of vegetation found on the southern tip of Africa
ha-de-da
greyish-brown ibis with a distinctive call: ha-ha, ha-ha, de-da
hartebeest
red-brown antelope with a sloping back and small horns
ja
Afrikaans for ‘yes’
klipspringer
small antelope with a bristly grey-yellow coat found in rocky areas
kopje
(also koppie)
small rocky hill in a generally flat area
kraal
traditional African village of huts, usually fenced
kudu
large grey-brown antelope, the male with corkscrew horns
mopane
tree with butterfly-wing leaves found in arid regions of southern Africa
nee
Afrikaans for ‘no’
omumbiri
resin used by Himba women of Namibia to perfume their skin
oryx
ash-grey antelope with long straight horns and bold black facial marks
pan
hollow in the earth containing water or salt if the water has evaporated
rand
currency of South Africa
Sperrgebiet
forbidden zone, formerly reserved for the diamond mining industry
stoep
verandah in front of a house
ta
barnak
French-Canadian swear word, from tabernacle
tesoro mio
Italian for ‘sweetheart’
veldt
(also veld)
open country or grassland in southern Africa
wildebeest (gnu)
ungainly antelope with dark coat and mane
Acknowledgements and Author’s Note
As always, I owe a huge debt of gratitude to my husband who suffers from neglect when I am in the thick of writing or re-writing a novel. He is the sounding board for my ideas, my technical advisor, my driver and guide in Southern Africa, and my anchor in the sea of life. Sincere thanks, too, to my beta readers who gave me useful feedback on earlier versions of this novel.
During the creation of A Holiday to Die For, my desk was piled high with travel brochures, books and maps, but one publication deserves a special mention: The Bradt Travel Guide to Namibia by Chris McIntyre. This superb book was indispensable when I travelled in Namibia and became my “bible” when I was checking facts and spellings for Petra’s third adventure. Any errors are my responsibility alone.
Talking of spelling, Petra Minx is Canadian. As a result, I use Canadian spelling in my novels which is essentially a cross between English and American. If this seems confusing or there are lapses, I apologize.
Colloquial English has absorbed many foreign words. To lend colour and authenticity to my story, I have used a number of South African, Afrikaans, and Italian words. In general the meaning is clear from the context, and to make reading easier I have chosen not to italicize most of them. For interest I have included a short glossary.
A Holiday to Die For is the product of my (like Petra’s) overactive imagination. The characters and plot are pure fiction and all organizations, places and settings in the novel are used completely fictitiously. I hope you enjoy it.
I hope too that you will have the opportunity to visit South Africa and Namibia, two wonderful countries that have successfully made the transition to majority rule. My thanks go to all their peoples for inspiring me to write A Holiday to Die For.
Marion Leigh
By the same author
THE POLITICIAN’S DAUGHTER
by
Marion Leigh
Introducing Marine Unit Sergeant Petra Minx of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police in a fast-paced adventure with lots of local colour and subtle undertones
When Emily Mortlake, daughter of a high-flying Toronto politician, goes missing after taking a summer job aboard megayacht Titania, RCMP Marine Unit Sergeant Petra Minx is recalled from vacation to investigate.
Despite the misgivings of her mentor Tom Gilmore, Petra poses as a student and joins the crew of the same yacht. Surprisingly, no one denies Emily was aboard, but the stories surrounding the reasons for her departure are various.
As Petra follows Emily’s trail from Monte Carlo to Spain and then Morocco, she is drawn into the glamorous world of Titania’s owner, the ruthless and charismatic Don León. With conflicting emotions, she continues her relentless quest to uncover the truth before it is too late …
DEAD MAN’S LEGACY
by
Marion Leigh
An exciting new adventure in the Petra Minx series with all the ingredients for a gripping holiday read
Sergeant Petra Minx of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police is ecstatic when her quirky boss, A.K., orders her to Nassau to meet the legendary Betty Graceby, a retired Canadian singer and ex-Vegas dancer. The complaints Betty has been filing against her obnoxious grandson Ken have finally caught the attention of the authorities. But why the sudden interest?
Martin, a journalist with a great nose for a story, has heard rumours of a new arts centre to be financed by an anonymous benefactor … and Betty’s fortune has tripled since the death of her husband, Joe LePinto, who was killed in a car driven by her smooth-talking son Cliff. So is money the key and how far will the Graceby ‘boys’ go to secure their future?
As the action moves from the Bahamas to Las Vegas and on to the Great Lakes, Petra develops a deep affection for Betty, and her fact-finding mission becomes much more personal. She uncovers a viper’s nest of hatred, greed, treachery and lust and realizes that LePinto’s influence is as pervasive in death as it was in life.
The dead man’s legacy is a weighty one …