Murderous David Hickson (best thriller novels of all time TXT) 📖

early and achieved much, now turned his attention to another venture: game farming. He had bought himself an extensive sheep farm many years before. The original owners had been murdered on that farm in the months leading up to the first democratic elections in 1994.

Khanyi had made notes in the margins in her neat square letters. The farm had sold for less than half of its estimated value. The manner of the previous owners’ demise had proved quite the deterrent to potential buyers. But Media-Mark had by then established itself as a prime provider of entertainment to the elite of the country, and the rewards were being reaped. Piet van Rensburg was not deterred by the murders.

Khanyi had included photographs of the previous owners, as they were found after their lives were taken. And on the wall beyond them was the triangular sketch of a hyena.

Van Rensburg had set about changing the nature of the farm, returning the land to its natural state. The sheep were loaded into trucks, sold to neighbouring farmers, and replaced with animals higher in the value chain. Animals were brought in from further north, animals whose worth was not in their meat or fluffy coats, but in their sheer presence: giraffe, zebra, buffalo.

It was rumoured that Van Rensburg was aiming for the Big Five. Minor details such as the unsuitability of the terrain to some species was not something that bothered him. Money had fixed many obstacles in his life, and he seemed confident that money would fix this one. Perhaps not in favour of the animals, but in favour of the officials who would need to provide the bits of paper that would pave the way.

Over the years a luxury lodge was built alongside the Duiwenshok River, and then a luxury tented camp on the higher ground of the plateau above Duiwel Ridge, and finally an ultra-luxury lodge around Lookout’s Peak. Further animals were brought in as the Van Rensburg private game farm stepped up the food chain with animals that liked to eat the animals they already had. A few big cats, and then the scavengers to clean the carcasses after the feast.

But then came the unfortunate scandal of the American huntress who had killed the alpha male of the pride of lions and shared a photograph on social media. The Van Rensburg’s licence was suspended, and the carnivores were removed. Hendrik van Rensburg, Piet’s only child, a notorious playboy and womaniser, was blamed. Hendrik had a weakness for pretty blonde women, and the huntress had been both pretty and blonde. Hendrik apologised, but the damage was done. Magazines were filled with the suntanned, blond and beefy Hendrik showing his muscles, looking contrite and making the most of the opportunity for attention. The Van Rensburg game farm, dream of the self-made millionaire, was put on hold. Because who wants to visit a game farm where the animals all stand around eating grass?

The story of Dirk’s suicidal mission resumed. The contrived ‘bumping into’ Hendrik, whose response had been interpreted as not entirely hostile. The ‘let’s meet for a drink’ which on two occasions saw Dirk jilted at the bar, but which was finally consummated: a beer for Hendrik, lime-and-soda for Dirk and a bowl of peanuts to share, before Hendrik had to leave for another more compelling engagement. Subtext provided by Khanyi: Hendrik’s womanising relegated meetings with Dirk to lowest priority for Hendrik. Dirk was more likely to make progress if he had something that Hendrik wanted. And so the Department supplied Dirk, an only child, with a sister. A younger, attractive sister, straight from the casting agency. Hendrik fell for the honeytrap, and the next chance encounter was more successful. Hendrik boasted openly about his position of power in a group who were looking after the future of ‘people like us’. He even mentioned the guns he had collected and suggested that Dirk’s sister might like to see his guns. An invitation was made to his family farm where a friend’s wedding was to be celebrated over an extended five-day weekend. A big marquee event, the champagne would flow and there would be plenty of opportunity to go on game drives, even a private drive for Dirk’s lovely sister if she was open to the idea of being driven alone through the bush by the only son of the country’s wealthiest media mogul. She was open to that idea, and nobody mentioned the underwear model who had recently received an enormous diamond from Hendrik. There was room in Hendrik’s life for more than one pretty, blonde girl.

But when the weekend arrived, Dirk travelled on his own to the game farm. He was armed with excuses from his lovely sister, who had been paid what was due to her and told to stand by in case the honeytrap needed a bit more honey.

Dirk, on his own, was not offered the private game drive. He was not as attractive as his new sister, and Hendrik did not go both ways. But Dirk did manage to show Hendrik some family snaps of the sister on a beach in a bikini, and played Hendrik a recorded message in which she explained how disappointed she was to have fallen ill, and how much she was looking forward to seeing Hendrik on the next occasion.

Dirk did some extensive game driving with groups of wedding guests who tolerated his awkward solitude. But he saw nothing that looked like a stockpile of weapons, or a secret military base. That would come later.

Dirk’s reports were like the detailed and depressing diary of an outcast. He described his efforts to be included, and his donkey laugh and enthusiastic hangdog face came back to me as an admonition for failing to persuade him that life in the field was not all he held it to be. He described in candid detail the confusion after his arrival at the farm without his lovely sister, and the change of room allocations so that he