One: Dead folks do not enjoy any pleasures

PRELUDE (1)

‘’Seven hundred and fifty United States dollars, Joe, is a lot of money- by any calculations, especially mine. A woman cannot live on sex alone you know,’’ Judy said heatedly as she unstrapped her sexy red lacy bra. 

After taking it off, her firm slightly sagging breasts vibrated as she moved about, agitatedly, in the room.

Joe Pondani followed her with his eyes from the large double bed where he was lying on his back - already undressed except for his pants.  

‘’Nor can a woman live on a man’s sweet promises alone,’’ she continued as she put on a sheer pink nightdress, ‘’ it’s tomorrow or never; and I mean it, Joe.’’

There were times that Joe Pondani thought he had outclassed himself – as his mother would say – when he took in a posh, expensive, and sophisticated woman like Judy as his mistress. 

‘’Well, I don’t know. Like I have already told you Judy dear…’’ he began uncertainly. 

‘’Blast what you have already told me; it sickens me if you ask me. The syndicate means nothing to you—absolutely nothing. You have been faithful to it all these years not because you love it but because you are a coward, Joe,’’ she hissed in a disgusted manner.

‘’ The question of cowardice does not come into it, it’s just…,’’ he began to say.

‘’Oh yes, it does. You are a fucking coward Joe.’’

‘’It’s not cowardice—try to understand me,’’ Joe began his ego and manhood deeply wounded, ‘’ its caution, what if the syndicate finds us out?’’ he asked worriedly. 

‘’Oh for Christ's sake Joe,’’ groaned as exasperated Judy. She threw him an impatient look, ‘’ we have been through all that before.’’

Joe swung his legs off the bed and grabbed the pack of cigarettes off the bedside. On realizing the pack was empty, he crushed the white pack and threw it away irritated, uncaring where it landed. He ran his hand through his bald head as he carefully weighed the situation at hand.

‘’Okay, we have been through it; that does not change the situation. Are you aware that when the syndicate finds out that it has been swindled out of a million dollars worth of emeralds and a whole seven hundred and fifty thousand United States dollars cold cash; our lives will not be worth the price of a pack of cigarettes?’’ he asked reasonably enough.

But Judy did not want to be reasonable. She wanted to be rich instead - and quick, too. 

Joe had always been against this idea conceived by Judy of double-crossing the syndicate. 

The syndicate had a hand in almost all the deals that involved big money around town. Among other things, it bought emeralds from small crooks and smuggled them out of the country – for profit. It was also involved in the buying of elephant tusks and rhino horns, which were also smuggled out of the country. Their tentacles stretched as far as the mandrax deals as well. 

The latest rumor and a strong one too was that the syndicate was bringing heroin from Asia, somehow, then exporting it to the rest of Southern Africa, Europe, and the United States.  

To those who were close to the underground network, this was no rumor at all; it was a fact. Joe was one of those people who knew this was a fact. 

‘’Look, Joe, we are talking of millions of kwacha, millions of easy money. Does that not excite you?’’ she said sweetly in his ear. 

‘’You are talking in terms of millions of easy money – and I am talking in terms of my life – it’s the only one I have hence I do not find the idea of losing it as exciting as you do,’’ he said sarcastically. 

‘’Oh Joe dear, let us not quarrel now hmmm?’’ she ran her dainty hand down his firm and ridged abs, ‘’as I have always said, don’t think in terms of the dangers – those are bridged we will cross when we come to them – but think in terms of all the pleasure we are going to have with all those millions. Just think of it,’’ she said persuasively.

‘’Well, I don’t know. Dead folks do not enjoy any pleasure, I have always believed,’’ Joe said resignedly. ‘’ But for you, I could do almost anything,’’ he said as he pulled her curvaceous body towards him – and the spring bed groaned protestingly. It always does. 

***

The words ‘Angelina Bar and Restaurant’ were still faintly visible in front of the building. You would probably have said that the building needed a fresh coat of paint, but the owner, Joe Pondani, would have probably have been of a different opinion. 

Joe Pondani owned the Angelino Bar and Restaurant. It was in Buteko Avenue, very close to the heavy industrial area. 

Ex-serviceman, Major Andrew Ndlovu, patted his service revolver inside the jacket fondly—one never knew in this business. 

He pushed the swinging door and went in. 

He smiled when he saw Joe Pondani behind the counter cleaning whiskey glasses with a piece of white cloth.

‘’Hi there old chap,’’ the Major said as he came in, smiling broadly. 

It’s always nice to do business with you folks – especially in this type of business, the Major thought.

‘’Ah, there you are Major Ndlovu. As usual, you are right on time,’’ said Pondani cheerfully. 

‘’When you have been a soldier for fifteen years – with nine of them being a commando – punctuality becomes an automatic drill with you,’’ the Major retorted proudly.

‘’Naturally. What can I offer you?’’

‘’Nothing thank you. Has the ‘other party’ arrived already?’’

‘’Not yet. Are you sure, you won’t change your mind about that drink?’’

‘’No thanks.’’

‘’As you wish,’’ Joe said. ‘’Then allow me to take you to the private room where you are to meet the ‘other party’, for your business transaction. There is no privacy here, as anyone can walk in anytime, you know.’’

‘’That’s right my boy.’’

The transaction in question here was the buying and selling of a catch of high-quality sky–blue emeralds. Major Ndlovu was the seller; the syndicate was buying. 

Major Ndlovu was selling to the syndicate for two simple reasons. 

The first was that, contrary to expectations, the syndicate had built a reputation of never double-crossing their clients for any reason; that’s the type of goodwill that it had cultivated. Secondly, the syndicate was offering U.S dollars.

Where the syndicate got its huge sums of U.S dollars was none of the customers’ business; and likewise, where the customer got the merchandise, was none of the syndicates business. Such is the nature of some transactions. 

Joe Pondani led the major to a room that was undoubtedly a backstory. The wall to the left of the door had some badly painted oil pictures. 

To the Majors consternation, the wall ‘broke’ in the middle and one-half swung inwards, revealing some stairs going down. 

‘’Aah, I see you are surprised to see our underground room, Major.’’

‘’Well, the picture there, though badly done, looked so innocent, I never suspected that it harbored any secrets.’’

‘’The syndicate believes in looking after itself, Major,’’ Joe said.

‘’I see.’’

Joe stepped aside to allow the Major to preceded him on the steps going down the Major started going down…

He was on the second step down when Joe, moving with the speed of a panther and viciousness of a rattlesnake, unsheathed his nine-inch hunting knife and plunged it to the hilt between the shoulder blades of the unsuspecting major.