Arriving at work, Spha notices some of the Smooth Move drivers being let into the yard where the vans are waiting to be loaded.
Should he approach them with his questions about the vans breaking down?
No, he needs to mind his own business and stay out of trouble. That voice on his phone, threatening him … There had been real purpose in the tone.
He swings round to go to the office and nearly crashes into a man standing just outside the entrance. For a mad moment, he thinks it’s the person who threatened him, just because the man looks so intimidating. He’s big and bulky, with his forehead jutting out over his small eyes.
“S-sorry,” Spha starts to apologise as the man steps aside, light on his feet for such a heavy-set man.
Spha watches him walk away, realising he’s let that phone call and Babalo’s concern get to him. The poor guy can’t help his looks. It must be terrible to go through life knowing the sight of you frightens people.
In Reception, Nolwazi is the only person in sight, standing near the door, busy on her phone. Spha goes on his way. Mr Sibuyi isn’t here yet, and no one is around Felix Ngobe’s computer.
The temptation is too much. If nothing else, he needs to satisfy his curiosity. Just one little look …
Spha finds the file of Fastest Fixes invoices and opens the newest one. It’s for brake repairs and some other things, but – how weird, there are no bank details.
“Spha here yet?” Mr Sibuyi’s voice comes from just outside.
“Yes, sir,” Nolwazi is answering him as Spha quickly closes the document and exits the file – but not before noticing one more thing about the invoice.
“Busy already? That’s what I like to see.” Mr Sibuyi is approving as he walks into the room.
He’s the oldest person at Smooth Move, and Spha respects and likes him. He hopes he has nothing to do with any scam going on with Fastest Fixes – if there is a scam. No, he can’t be involved. He has no idea Spha is taking an interest, so it must be one of the others behind that phone call.
When he has a chance, Spha calls Babalo.
“Listen, remember when you were looking to get taken on as an apprentice mechanic and going around all the workshops in KaNyamazane and Mbombela? Did you come across this Fastest Fixes?”
“Spha!” The concern in Babalo’s voice makes him feel guilty. “You were going to drop it.”
“I know, and I have … I am. I just had a look at the one invoice, that’s all. Out of curiosity.” There’s a sound outside the small storeroom he’s using for privacy, so he lowers his voice. “There was no phone number, but a sort of address – Samora Machel Drive, that’s all.”
“I don’t remember any Fastest Fixes there, or anywhere,” Babalo says.
“I’m going to check it out,” he says. “Sorry Babalo, I have to. I swear I’ll be careful.”
Not careful enough. He leaves work that Friday afternoon planning to walk the whole length of Samora Machel Drive, the main road through town, even if it means catching a late bus home.
He has just turned the corner into a side street that will lead him there, when he’s hit from behind, a hard blow to his back. He starts to fall, but next thing there’s an arm like a steel bar across the front of his throat, choking him.
Tell us: If this attack on Spha is anything to do with his investigation, will he get off with a warning, or be seriously hurt?