Private Gold

Chapter 10

Some people were born with natural beauty, or musical ability, or a photographic memory. Steyn had a different talent. He was gifted with the ability to kill. Not just to commit the act of murder, although this was an exceptional skill that few people could carry out in cold blood... but to create a plausible scenario for each job he did.

He liked to think of it as helping the police. After all, with South Africa’s high crime rate, they were all overworked and demoralized. Making their task easier saved on paperwork and time, freeing them up to hunt down criminals more careless than him.

He always did his homework carefully. It was essential to be properly prepared. After all, the more time he took over the preparation, the less time the detectives would need to work out what had occurred.

And, of course, he always had a backup plan. Having a Plan B was absolutely essential.

When he swiftly forced the front door of Isobel’s lodgings and moved calmly into the house, nothing about his demeanor gave away the fact that this was already Plan B. His lean face was intent, and the hand holding his pistol was steady.

Plan A had been to do the job on the road, to make it look as though the woman had been shot in a carjacking. However, the rainy weather put an end to that. No carjacker would work in such a storm. With the heavy traffic and poor visibility, there was too much risk of a botched getaway. So, thinking like the criminal he was, albeit a different kind of criminal, Steyn had decided on his second plan. After all, a violent house robbery would be nothing unusual in this impoverished community. The word could easily have spread that an overseas traveler was booked in.

Steyn’s instincts were already telling him the house was empty when he heard the window slam. Spinning around, he saw her looking in, and suddenly the scenario made sense — she’d gone out to try and close it.

He fired two shots, but to his annoyance she was quicker than he’d expected; he would have thought she’d freeze, cry, beg for her life, as most of his female victims had done.

Quickly, he strode outside. The chase was on now, and he didn’t intend to lose. At such moments, he always smiled, the left side of his mouth quirking up; but it was a joker’s grin that never reached his eyes.

Gun at the ready, he moved to the corner of the house, blinking rain away. She would be crouching down, on the ground — he aimed low, then rounded the corner.

Another shock... she wasn’t there. In fact, she was nowhere in sight. Could she have hidden? The overgrown garden, small as it was, offered some opportunities. He was about to search through the bushes, but then remembered the flash of red he’d caught as she ducked down behind the window. A bright garment like she was wearing would be visible; she couldn’t hope to hide. Implacably, the computer in Steyn’s mind came up with another solution and he scanned the area. His mouth curved higher as he saw it.

There, on the wall.

A fluttering swatch of red-and-white material, tugged by the wind.

She’d gone over, and would be fleeing down the side street, the one with all the shacks.

Steyn ran for his car. A moment later, he was accelerating around the corner, tires wailing.