Chapter 10 - The Secret Lindiwe Left Behind
The following morning, we traveled with the police to Sandiso's grandmother's house.
None of us had slept properly.
Mthente's mother sat beside me, holding my hand.
Sandiso guided us to a bedroom where his belongings were stored.
From an old suitcase, he removed a small notebook wrapped in a faded piece of cloth.
“I kept it because Lindiwe told me never to throw it away.”
His mother took one step forward.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
Sandiso looked ashamed.
“I was only twelve when she died, Ma. I didn't understand what it meant.”
Her expression softened.
“It's okay, my boy.”
Detective Khumalo carefully examined the notebook.
The first pages contained ordinary things.
School notes.
Telephone numbers.
Small reminders written in neat handwriting.
Then the entries changed.
There were vehicle registration numbers, names of businesses, dates, and descriptions of suspicious meetings.
One name appeared repeatedly.
Bhekizizwe Radebe.
Mthente stood motionless as the detective turned the pages.
Then she stopped.
“Do you recognize this company?”
Mthente nodded.
“Radebe used it to move money.”
The detective continued reading.
Lindiwe had apparently discovered that her brother was involved with dangerous people.
She'd started writing down things she overheard or witnessed.
There were references to men threatening witnesses and payments connected to suspicious vehicle movements.
One entry mentioned a dark-colored vehicle that had followed her after she visited a community office seeking help.
Mthente slowly sat down.
“What is it?” I whispered.
He stared at the page.
“That was the vehicle she told me about.”
His mother turned.
“What?”
Mthente swallowed.
“Lindiwe came to me before she died. She said someone was following her.”
His mother looked horrified.
“You never told me that.”
He shook his head.
“I thought she was exaggerating.”
His voice cracked.
“I told her to stop interfering in my business.”
His mother stepped back.
“You knew she was frightened?”
“Yes.”
“And you did nothing?”
Tears filled his eyes.
“I was afraid of Radebe.”
She stared at him.
For a moment, I feared she'd collapse.
Then she whispered, “My daughter came to you for help.”
Mthente covered his face.
“I know, Ma.”
Detective Khumalo closed the notebook carefully.
“We need to investigate whether her death was connected to these people.”
Mthente's mother gripped the edge of a chair.
“Are you saying my daughter might not have died in an ordinary accident?”
“We don't know yet,” the detective replied. “But this information gives us reason to review the case.”
The room fell silent.
Suddenly, the tragedy that had haunted this family for years looked even more complicated.
I thought of Lindiwe as an eighteen-year-old girl trying to protect her brother.
I thought of the fear she must have felt.
And I thought of the notebook she'd left behind.
Then Detective Khumalo noticed an unfamiliar company name among the entries.
“Do you know this business?” she asked.
I leaned forward.
My stomach tightened.
I recognized it.
The company had appeared on invoices connected to one of my interior design projects.
Months earlier, I'd refused to approve questionable charges from a supplier associated with that business.
Could that be why someone had ordered my death?
Before I could speak, my phone rang.
It was my office administrator.
I answered immediately.
“Nangomusa, thank goodness!”
Her voice was shaking.
“What's wrong?”
“Two men came to the studio asking for your project files.”
I stood.
“Did you give them anything?”
“No. I told them you weren't available.”
I heard a door close in the background.
Then she whispered something that made my blood run cold.
“Nangomusa, they're back.”
May you like
A pause.
“They just forced their way into your office.”
