Sleeper, by Mike Nicol

Sleeper, by Mike Nicol. Umuzi, Penguin Random House South Africa. Cape Town, South Africa 2018. ISBN 9781415209738 / ISBN 978-1-41-520973-8

If you have never read a South African crime novel before, try Sleeper by Mike Nicol, and you will be hooked.

Mike Nicol  

Miller’s Point. Fish Pescado opened the throttle. Slight twist of the wrist on the Mercury 800, eighty horsepower responded. Heard the engine cough and scream, the propeller churn, the Maryjane lift its nose. Grinned at the forward surge. In the bow, cop neighbour Flip Nel glanced round, eyebrows raised. ‘Still cuts it, hey.’ Fish eased back on the juice to glide the rubber ducky out of the slipway shallows into deeper water. ‘Might be old but lots of kick.’ ‘Ja,’ said Flip. ‘Just not too hectic, boet.’ ‘What? You got a head? Too much policeman’s coffee last night? Drink better brandy, Flip.’ Flip, not looking round, giving him a raised middle finger. Fish laughed. ‘Some of you old guys’re losing the kick.’ Flip sitting up there with the anchor he was donating. Complete with a coil of rope. Brand new, classic, admiralty-style anchor. Must’ve cost him a good couple of grand. Crazy wasting money on an anchor. Fish kept the revs low, slowly taking them out along the kelp edge towards Pyramid Rock. Even so, a chill blowback flicking at his curls. Made him hug into a long-sleeved hoodie under his life jacket. Made him wish he’d put on jeans not board shorts. The day might be sunny but it was autumn: a cold haze on the ocean, the smell of seaweed, fresh, piquant. Strings of cormorants flying low across the water. The sea with a slight rise and fall along the tideline, breaking no foam. Days like this not a wave to be had around the peninsula. You’re missing nothing if you go fishing. Fish Pescado’s a surfer dude: blond, his mother’s blue eyes in a tanned face. He smiles, the flash of white gives the ladies a thrill. The thing amusing Fish that morning was Flip Nel pitching up with an anchor. He didn’t get it. Shouted now over the thrum and bounce of the rubber ducky, ‘What’s with the anchor, Flip? Guy who owned this boat before never had an anchor.’ Flip Nel shifted round on his seat, held up the anchor. ‘You got to have an anchor,’ he said. ‘You can’t just drift.’ ‘Drifting’s okay,’ Fish came back. ‘No, man. You’re out on the sea, you need an anchor, I’m telling you.’ ‘It’s too deep out there,’ said Fish. ‘Never get that down to the seabed. You need a mile of rope.’ ‘Sometimes there’re reefs. Sometimes you’re closer inshore.’ Flip not taking any argument. ‘What? You gonna tell me you don’t like my present?’ Fish smiled. ‘I like it.’ Man wanted to spend money on an anchor, that was his problem. ‘My present. Accept gratefully.’ Fish was no fisherman. Wasn’t for Flip Nel, he’d never use the Maryjane. Would get rid of it. But the cop liked to dangle a line. Would talk Fish into a couple of hours on the back of the bay from time to time. Fish went with it. Especially after Flip’s old lady died. Besides, earned him brownie points he could trade for a favour when he needed cop information. Said, ‘Any place you wanna go especially?’ Waving at the wide horizon. Flip Nel pointed towards Hangklip mountain, other side of the bay. [...]

This is an excerpt from Sleeper, by Mike Nicol.

Title: Sleeper
Author: Mike Nicol
Genre: Crime Novel South Africa
Imprint: Umuzi
Publisher: Penguin Random House South Africa
Cape Town, South Africa 2018
ISBN 9781415209738 / ISBN 978-1-41-520973-8
Softcover, 13 x 21 cm, 352 pages