Chapter 4 - The Money That Bought Her Death
By the time Mdu arrived, the atmosphere in my house had become unbearable.
He entered carrying his car keys and wearing the serious expression of someone who already knew the situation was bad.
"You said it was urgent."
I handed him the photograph.
He examined it.
Then he looked at the messages on my old phone.
"Are these new?"
"Less than an hour old."
He let out a slow breath.
"You need the police involved immediately."
"I know."
"Not tomorrow. Not after you investigate things yourself. Now."
Mdu was different from Goba.
Where Goba could find an excuse to escape the smallest inconvenience, Mdu preferred facing trouble directly.
There was a reason I trusted him.
Before we could leave, Goba returned.
He walked through the door, stopped when he saw everyone, and immediately looked as if he wanted to disappear again.
I crossed my arms.
"How's your dying client?"
Goba swallowed.
"He's recovering."
"Miraculously?"
"Very miraculously."
Mdu shook his head.
"You ran away?"
Goba looked offended.
"I temporarily removed myself from a potentially hostile environment."
"That's running away," I said.
He raised both hands.
"Fine! I was nervous. That woman looked ready to send somebody to prison, and I didn't want to be accidentally included."
Aunt Zanele gave him a cold stare.
Goba lowered his hands.
"With all due respect, ma'am."
Despite everything, Nango almost smiled.
Then Goba's expression grew serious.
"Actually, there's something I need to tell you."
I stopped teasing him.
"What?"
"When I left, there was a black SUV parked across the street. I saw the same vehicle again near the main road."
"Did you get the license plate?"
"Part of it."
He showed us a photograph he'd taken through his windshield.
I recognized the vehicle.
I'd seen it outside Radebe's offices months earlier.
The discovery gave us another reason to act quickly.
Mdu accompanied us to the police station.
There, we met Detective Lindiwe Dube, a calm, experienced investigator who listened without interrupting as we explained everything.
When she learned about my past, her expression hardened.
"You understand that making this statement could expose you to criminal charges."
"Yes."
"And you understand that cooperating now doesn't erase what you did before?"
"I understand."
She studied me for several seconds.
"Then start at the beginning."
I told her how the original assignment had reached me.
I told her who had arranged the money.
And I told her why I had refused to carry it out.
When I finished, she collected copies of the messages and requested the original devices for examination.
Then she turned toward Nango.
"You mentioned financial irregularities involving a housing trust."
Nango nodded.
"My father established the Ntshangase Housing Trust before he died. It was supposed to preserve affordable housing for families in Sobethu."
"Who manages the finances?"
"My mother handled much of the administration. I have approval authority over major property transactions."
"And you've refused a proposed sale?"
"Yes."
Dube made a note.
"Then we need to examine the financial records."
That afternoon, Nango contacted Vukani.
He managed the trust's records and had worked closely with her father.
When we reached him by phone, he sounded relieved.
"I've been trying to reach you."
"What's wrong?" Nango asked.
"I finished reviewing the payments you questioned."
"And?"
"Nearly two and a half million rand has been diverted through renovation contracts."
Nango closed her eyes.
"Oh, God."
"Most of the payments went to companies connected to Radebe."
"Do you have evidence?"
"Copies of the invoices, bank records, and authorization forms."
"Keep everything safe. We're involving the police."
Vukani hesitated.
"Nango, there's something you should know."
"What?"
"I found another payment this morning."
"To whom?"
"A private security consultancy that doesn't appear to provide any legitimate service to the trust."
My chest tightened.
"How much?"
"Enough to raise serious questions."
Nango stared at me.
"Who authorized it?"
Vukani took a long breath.
"That's the problem."
"Vukani, tell me."
"The authorization has your signature."
Nango's face drained of color.
"I didn't sign anything."
"I know."
"Then somebody forged it."
"That's what I believe."
She gripped the phone tighter.
"Send everything to Detective Dube."
"I'll prepare the records."
The call ended.
For a moment, nobody spoke.
Then Mdu pointed toward the window.
"The SUV is back."
I turned.
Across the street, the black vehicle sat beneath a tree.
Its engine was running.
A moment later, my phone vibrated.
Another anonymous message appeared.
May you like
STOP LOOKING AT THE MONEY. YOUR GIRLFRIEND ISN'T THE ONLY PERSON WE CAN TAKE.
And attached was a photograph of Vukani leaving his office.
