Kate found Margaret sitting out on the wooden veranda of the pub they agreed to meet at. “I hope I’m not late,” Kate said sitting down opposite Margaret.

“Not at all. I’ve been enjoying the sunshine. There is nothing as restorative as warm sunshine on a cool winter day. How did it go with my husband?”

“Fine. Though he didn’t remember much about Keletso, he was helpful actually. He mentioned a man, Mr. Kadambo. Isaya Kadambo. Do you know him?” Kate asked. The waitress came with menus and they both ordered a glass of red wine.

“He’s the burnt one right?”

“Yeah that’s him.”

“Sure I know him. He’s got a bit of an urban myth created around him, but I don’t think there’s any truth to it. Did Goitsemang think he’s dangerous?” Margaret asked surprised.

“He didn’t really say that. He just said that he remembered once that Keletso said that she was frightened of him.”

The waitress came back with their drinks and they ordered. “Sure all the girls are. It’s like I said, an urban myth. They say he was peeping in the girls’ hostels years ago and they poured boiling water on him, that’s how he got the scar. They say he’s a rapist. I don’t think there is any truth to the matter. He’s just a disabled man who keeps to himself. I’m surprised Goitsemang mentioned it at all.”

“Did Keletso ever mention him in her sessions with you?”

“Not that I can remember. I don’t know Kate, but, honestly, I don’t think there’s anything there. Frankly, I’ve always felt sorry for him.”

“We’ll check it out anyway. We don’t have any other lead, nothing at all. And as the days pass the chances of us finding Keletso’s murderer are getting slimmer and slimmer.”

“Kate, don’t get me wrong, you must do your job. Those are only my impressions but I tend to stick up for the victim of bullying, the underdogs. It’s just my nature.”

Kate sat back drinking her wine. Sometimes urban myths had some grain of truth at their core, or somehow she hoped they did. Kadambo was their only lead, even if it was a very thin tenuous lead. She hoped Ntoko would uncover something to help shed light on the case. She really couldn’t bear the thought that they might never find Keletso’s killer.

*****

The room was pitch dark. That’s how he liked it when he felt The Power wash over him. That was the way he’d come to refer to it- The Power. It was a rush of adrenaline combined with an urge he couldn’t ignore. He sat in the dark waiting for it to take control of him. It was warm and exhilarating and he welcomed it. He knew it took time to build up. The anticipation of what it would become was a joy in and of itself. It took time to reach every inch of his body, to transform him from the ordinary man he was into the incredible being that he would become.

As he waited for the transformation to be complete, he stripped off his clothes, the ones for his ordinary self. When he was naked, he opened the closet and in the faint light from the streetlight outside the window, he felt at the back of the top shelf and pulled down his suit. The black trousers, shirt and jacket. Black for him to disappear into the night. For him to hide from his prey. He dressed mechanically. He was slowly disappearing, shedding his weak, worthless form and taking on the immense strength of his new one. The Power was taking over and soon he would be gone.

He reached up again to the shelf and at the very back, under where the clothes had been, he pulled out a finely crafted wooden box. He could smell the sandalwood that it was made of. He opened it and the light from outside glinted off the shiny surface of the three, silver, metal claws lying snuggled in their purple bed of velvet. Carefully, he lifted them one by one and placed them on the ends of the fingers on his left hand. They were razor sharp and he was careful not to cut himself. Once they were in place, he was complete. The Power was now in control. It was time for the hunt to begin.

*****

The next day Kate and Ntoko sat down to go through the information they’d collected on Isaya Kadambo. Kadambo did have a record at the police station but not for what they had expected. He was the victim, not the perpetuator.

When he was ten years old his step-father poured hot oil over his head. He was in hospital for a long time recovering from the first degree burns and the step-father went to prison for two years. When Kadambo got out of the hospital, his mother was so angry that their only bread winner was behind bars thanks to him, she refused to have him live with her.

At just over 11 years old and terribly disfigured, he was homeless. He lived on the streets of Gaborone for a couple of years, but then a British professor at the university took him in. He attended school for a few years, but decided he’d had enough teasing from the other children, and at thirteen the professor got him a job cleaning at the university. Though he looked much older than he was, Kate was shocked to read that he was only 27. There were a list of complaints in his file from university girls claiming he had been peeking in their windows or tried to rape them, but none of the cases ever panned out.

“It seems like Margaret was right,” Kate said.

“Perhaps,” Ntoko said. “If not him, then who?”

Kate looked up through the open door of her office and saw Dr. Moeng walking towards them.

“Hi Viv, what’s up?” Kate asked, but then she saw the look on Vivian’s face.

“Not good news I’m afraid. I’ve got another one.”

Kate was confused. “Another what?”

“I’ve got another murder. Same method, same claw marks. It’s your guy again. I think we might have a serial killer stalking young women in Gaborone.”

***

Tell us what you think: Who do you think the killer is? Why?