Second Time Lucky. Malihanelo Molapo
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together in the coming days?” he asked with a gorgeous smile.
“Oh, are we? I thought Adam said I would only be consulted from time to time while you investigate the matter,” she answered sarcastically.
“Well, since I’m the one who’s going to be running the show, I say we should consult closely. Or do you have a problem with that?”
Criselda crossed her arms. “No, I don’t have a problem with that, Justice. And yes, you may call me Criselda.”
“Okay, then I’ll look over these and get back to you soon. Also, can I borrow your book? The chapter on the white Mississippi murders is quite enthralling. I promise to bring it back soonest.”
Soonest? Criselda thought to herself. Now that was one word she would never expect him to use. “Of course, take your time. I’ll wait to hear from you, then.”
With that he rose from his chair, took the file and the book and lankily walked out with a satisfied look.
4
It was around four o’clock the following afternoon when the sudden loud ring of her office phone startled Criselda.
She was deeply occupied, working on her computer and trying to break down every component that linked the S 5.2. She was bent on figuring out the weakest and strongest formulas that operated the system.
“Hello,” she answered.
“Mr Dlangamandla on the line,” said Tseli in her usual morbid tone.
“Put him through.” Criselda braced herself. “Hi, Justice, any progress?”
“Well, I’ve made headway in other avenues, but I need your help in shedding some light on a few matters. Shall we meet for dinner?”
She was amused and surprised at the same time, but decided to play it down. “I would assume you’d want to discuss this in the office, not at a restaurant.”
Sounding slightly irritated, he replied, “The place I have in mind is very quiet. So we should be able to tackle the issues at hand.”
“Okay,” she said, although she really found this a bit inappropriate. “When and where?”
“Pitseng, it’s by the Sugar House Creations building on the corner of De Villiers and Main. I’m sure you know it. Let’s say seven-thirty. You’ll find me waiting,” he said as if to make sure that she would show up.
As the click of the phone brought Criselda back to her world, something suddenly dawned on her. The kids. What was she going to do? Florina wasn’t back yet.
She wondered for a moment whether she could ask Suthukazi, but felt two days in a row was pushing it, even though they were friends.
Just then, right on cue, her friend walked in, took one look her and said, “What has rained on your parade now, besides the Hampshire saga?”
“Eish, Justice just called and he wants us to meet for dinner tonight ... To discuss the Hampshire hacking, of course.” Criselda almost bit her tongue trying to reassure Suthukazi.
“Justice? Since when are we on first-name terms? What happened to ‘that rude guy’?” Suthukazi smiled wickedly.
“We have to get acquainted, seeing that we’re going to be working together on this investigation. It’ll be a business dinner, but I can’t go.”
“Come on, Criss, I can smell your excitement a mile away. You want to go. What’s the problem?”
“The kids. I agreed to meet him, but I forgot that Florina wasn’t back yet.”
“Is that the only reason? You know I’m more than willing if I can, and tonight I can, so go spruce yourself up and have some fun. You deserve it, especially after Sifiso and his shenanigans.”
“It’s only a business dinner, Kazi. Besides, I really don’t trust men. They’re no-good and selfish – and did I mention cold-blooded?”
“Who knows, maybe you’ll swallow those words by the morning. Let’s get out of here and go pick up those adorable twins.”
Despite a feeling of dread, Criselda smiled.
* * *
As she slowly entered Pitseng restaurant and looked around for Justice, Criselda was met by the delicious spicy aromas of traditional South African cuisine. She could almost taste the food as her mouth started to water.
The décor was relaxing, the patterned orange lights were dimmed and went well with the paraffin lights on each table. The walls were adorned with orange silk cloths, and these were also draped across the ceiling from one corner of the room to the other. African jazz was coming out smoothly from the speakers, not too loud and not too low. It was cosy indeed.
As Criselda was taking in the beauty of the place, her eye caught a familiar face and she made her way gracefully to the table.
“Good evening,” she greeted firmly. “Have you been waiting for long?”
Justice got up like a gentleman and she couldn’t help but be impressed. Nodding in appreciation, she made herself comfortable at the small round dinner table covered with an orange silk cloth.
“No, I haven’t,” he responded as he sat down again. “I hope you don’t mind, I’ve already ordered us wine. Dry red. May I pour you a glass?”
Criselda nodded and then asked, “So what have you been able to figure out so far?”
“Well, I’ve been at Hampshire the whole afternoon and to me it’s starting to look like an inside job. But then again, maybe the hacker disguised it that way. Enough of that, though, I’ll brief you fully tomorrow morning. Let’s meet at Hampshire at ten in the server room.”
“But I was under the impression that you wanted to ask me some questions,” Criselda queried. “Isn’t that why you wanted us to meet?”
“Of course, of course. But I feel in order for me to ask you these questions I have to get to know you better.”
The pearly smile once again emerged, and Criselda wondered how long it would be this time before he slammed the door to his mysterious world in her face again.
As if reading her mind, Justice’s deep frown returned, and he suddenly looked as if the weight of the world had just come down from the orange draperies and landed smack between his shoulders.
He sat staring into his wine, running his index finger around the rim of the glass, and then unexpectedly confessed, “I’m a divorcé myself. That day at court ... It was the end.”
“Oh,” Criselda sighed with a hint of disappointment. She had secretly been hoping that maybe he could be the one to keep her mind off what had happened in her life the past year. He was obviously still feeling bitter and raw, the same way she had felt a while ago, and he was probably looking for revenge on some poor woman.
Well, it wasn’t going to be her. He must have seen that she was vulnerable to his rudeness and therefore saw her as an easy victim to help him get over his divorce. No way, she told herself while downing her wine and pouring another glass almost to the brim.
She was starting to feel nervous now that he had actually let her take a step into his mysterious world. She didn’t like what she saw. Damaged goods, she thought to herself.
“Easy with the wine there,” he said, smiling wryly. “Did I say something wrong?”
“No,” she answered in an aloof tone.
He frowned and then continued, “It was mostly her fault, really, I never wanted ...”
But before he could finish his sentence, Criselda was on her feet. “I’ve heard enough, thank you. It’s clear you summoned me here under false pretences. I was under the impression that we were going to work.”
With that she made a swift turn and