she said. ‘Please.’
‘Patti. And I’m Luke.’
‘Wow, first-name terms already, we’re getting on like a house on fire and you’ve only seen me in one pornographic photo.’ She smiled widely. ‘I’m not really domineering, you know. I’m as soft as butter when I’m treated right. All I want out of life is justice. A good society. And cops to catch crooks. Is that too much for a citizen to ask?’
‘No.’
‘Ah, but it is, in this country. In fact it’s against the law.’
‘That’s true.’
‘So what are you going to do about it, Luke? Are you going to write courageous stuff?’
He knew now he was undergoing some kind of test. ‘I do my best – for a junior reporter.’
‘You do very well indeed. I’ve read a lot of your work, including your articles about whaling.’
The quickest way to a writer’s heart. ‘Thank you.’
‘But if whaling is so horrific – so cruel, as you so vividly described it – why did you keep on going to the Ice?’
‘For the money.’
‘Ah, yes, the money … Well, I can’t promise you any money out of the proposition I’ve got for you, but on the other hand you could make a killing, if things go wrong.’
‘Go wrong?’
‘If the police start persecuting me again. Because in this envelope are not only the photographs but two affidavits testifying as to how they were taken. I intend to put them into a bank safety deposit box with the story of how they came about – a well-written story, for publication in the event of my being seriously arrested.’
‘Arrested for what?’
‘For a serious matter, like “furthering the illegal objectives of the ANC”. I want to be able to tell the authorities that if they persist in their persecution of me I will be releasing a highly embarrassing story. This envelope – ’ she picked it up – ‘is my insurance, Luke. Not blackmail – because it would be to the public benefit that everybody be informed that the custodians of the law are breaking the law.’
God, yes, it would be a story. Though he wasn’t so sure it wouldn’t be blackmail – but to hell with that for now.
‘You would be performing a public service, Luke. And showing up the cruelty of apartheid. And the ridiculousness of it.’
‘Yes. Except I doubt it would pull down this government.’
‘No, but it would rock the police. “Senior BOSS officer in Immorality Act love nest with ANC member”.’ She smiled. ‘It would let the cat loose amongst the BOSS pigeons: how many security secrets would Major Kotze have told the ANC through me?’
Mahoney was bemused. Almost exactly what Willy Thembu had suggested. ‘But do you intend to … see this Major Kotze again?’
‘Oh, yes.’
It shocked him. A beautiful woman like this.
She said: ‘This is too good an opportunity to pass up. The job must be done properly. The scandal must be about a love nest, not about a one-night stand. And I might even get some secrets.’
Jesus. BOSS secrets in a love nest? This story was getting better and better. He said: ‘Are you also a member of the Communist Party?’
Patti smiled widely. ‘I’m not going to make any unwise confessions in my story, Luke. The only crime I’m confessing to is contravening the Immorality Act with Sergeant van Rensburg and Major Kotze. Plus whoever of the BOSS hierarchy come my way. Of course, you must write that I was a member of the ANC before it was banned and that’s how I came to be raided by Kotze – and ended up in bed with him.’ She added: ‘Of course, this could be an on-going story, with more BOSS victims. But you haven’t agreed to write it yet. Will you, Luke?’
Would he? Any journalist would give his eyeteeth for the story! ‘Oh, I’ll write it.’
‘You realize you may never publish it? It’ll only happen on my instructions and that’ll mean I’m in big trouble.’
‘Yes.’ He rubbed his chin. ‘But you must realize that you’re taking a chance on this. I might be raided by the police and if they find the story – then you will be in big trouble.’
She shook her head. ‘If your house is raided they’ll find nothing to do with me. Because you’re not going to work on this at home. You’ll do so in a nice secure place. I won’t tell you where yet. And each time you finish a page, it’ll disappear.’
‘I see. Does your attorney know about this?’
‘Not yet.’ She smiled over the rim of her wine glass. Oh, she was beautiful. ‘Any questions, Luke? Aren’t you going to ask me why I’ve asked you to do this job?’
He grinned. ‘I hoped it was because of my big blue eyes.’
‘Oh, yes, those too.’ (That made his heart turn over.) ‘Because,’ she said, ‘you’re a very good writer, Luke. I read your stories in Drum every month. And I loved your articles on whaling in the Star, your descriptions of the horror of the hunt – how the mother whale tried to take her harpooned calf under her fin!’ Her eyes were suddenly glistening. ‘It made me cry.’
He’d made her cry? And she made him want to cry, thinking of those fucking hairyback policemen rumbling all over her. He heard himself say: ‘But there’re better journalists than me, Patti.’
‘If I phoned up the editor of the Star and told him I had a story for his ears only, would he have come along personally to see me?’
He tried to think what that august personage would do. ‘No, he’d send one of his reporters.’
‘Right. And I wouldn’t know that reporter. And would I like him?’ She smiled. ‘But I do feel I know you, and Gloria says you’re a good guy. And she says you’re studying law – that shows you’re serious, even if Gloria says you’re wild as hell. And,’ her smile widened mischievously, ‘I saw the way you looked at me during the trial. You like me.’
Oh, there was sexual teasing in that. ‘Yes, I do.’
She let that admission hang, her eyes bright with amusement, then said: ‘And I like you. That’s why I asked you to do my story.’ She added: ‘Probably as much as you like me, Luke.’
Mahoney’s heart seemed to turn over. Surely this was an invitation? But he hesitated to blunder in – he wanted to make a good impression.
She went on: ‘Tell me, what is it you like about me? Apart from my body.’
Her body … Now he was in no doubt. His heart was hammering. But play it cool… ‘Your mind. And your courage.’
‘But
