Of Cops & Robbers, by Mike Nicol
The following excerpt is taken from the chapter "The icing unit, November 1977". Mike Nicol's striking crime novel "Of Cops & Robbers" was published by Umuzi in 2011.
[...] They approach the house. No car in the driveway, the gate in the low wall is open onto a short slasto path to the front door. Rictus Grin and Blondie get out, their soles slap on the stone. Rictus knocks. Sees the bell, push, jabs it with a thumb: bing-bong. They wait. Hear a woman's voice talking on the telephone, saying goodbye. Rictus looks at Blondie, raises his eyebrows. Who's this? The turn of a key in the lock. A woman opens the door: short hair, pretty face, long eyelashes, green eyes, no colour on her lips. Wears a brown dress to her knees, bare feet. Says brightly, 'Hello, menere. What can I do for you gentlemen?' Rictus doesn't miss a beat. 'Mevrou?' - 'Ja.' - 'Mevrou, we're supposed to meet your husband at quarter past six.' He glances at his watch. 'Five minutes ago. Sorry, we're late.' - 'You're early, he's late,' she says. 'He's not here yet.' Rictus with his hands bunched into the pockets of his bunny jacket. He and Blondie not moving. 'Is it about constituency matters?' Rictus nods. 'Ag, it's not that important.' The woman smiles. 'Why don't you come in and wait? If he said quarter past six, I'm sure he won't be long.' She leads them into a dining room, the table piled with stacks of papers. This's his office,' she says, closing the curtains. She turns to face them, palms out towards two easy chairs. 'Make yourselves at home.' In that moment seeing the gun in Rictus's hand, the fear ritzing her face. Rictus shoots her one time, chest shot, straight through the heart. What the newspapers will call point-blank. Then he's at her with the stiletto. Grunting with each stab and pull. Blondie's rooted to the carpet. The speed of the other man's mania brings a sourness to his mouth. He lurches towards his partner, pulls him away from the woman's body. She's on the floor, ripped and still. Her face untouched, her eyes open, pearly teeth glinting between her lips. Rictus wrenches himself free, bloody stiletto in his right hand, the Browning hp in his left. Blondie hadn't seen him pull either weapon. Blondie shouting, 'Stop, stop, bugger it, stop.' At the same time the bell's bing-bonging because the other two, the Commander and the Fisherman, are outside the front door. 'Okay, okay.' Rictus bends down to wipe the knife on the woman's dress, comes up folding the blade into the hilt, crimson stains on the mother-of-pearl. He watches from his car at the far end of the gravel parking lot. Watches through a night scope, the white Subaru stopped facing the beach. A hard southeaster's blowing, hazing his windscreen with sea spray. So bad he switches on the wipers to clear his vision. He's been there half an hour, on the west side of the Sunrise Beach parking area. Was there twenty minutes before the white Subaru pulled up. It's midnight, moonless. Ten minutes later he sees a car peel off the traffic circle, dim its lights, come slowly across the gravel towards the white Subaru. It's a Jetta, black. Black windows. The waiting man gets out of his car. The Jetta stops alongside. Two men step out. He watches through the scope. Watches the men talking. Their hand gestures. Like these men aren't here for a transaction as they should be, they're arguing. Sees them back off, the two from the Jetta separating either side of the other man. Sees muzzle flash: four shots from the Jetta men, two returns. 'Jesus Christ!' Fish leans forward to start his car. 'Don't,' says the man in the passenger seat. The man holding the '45 at his head. 'Keep watching, my friend. This is what happens when you play shit with us. You get fucked up.' [...]
This is an excerpt from the crime novel: Of Cops & Robbers, by Mike Nicol.
Title: Of Cops & Robbers
Author: Mike Nicol
Publisher: Random House Struik
Cape Town, South Africa 2011
ISBN 9781415203767 / ISBN 978-1-4152-0376-7
Softcover, 15 x 22 cm, 320 pages
Nicol, Mike im Namibiana-Buchangebot
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