Burning Roses

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Down in the snug of Mike’s Tavern, the world was a much rosier place. Darker and dingier, certainly, but nevertheless rosier. With half a dozen pints inside me, and a couple lined up on the bar, I was ready to face the world once more.

“Who’s it going to be then, eh?”

Ian had wandered off with Scottish Jimmy after the first few rounds, probably to get his gear ready for the gig - although it hadn’t been too clear from the grunt and nod with which he’d departed - so I’d decided to see what could be accomplished on Mike’s pool tables. There were several challengers, and they weren’t all bad, but they were up against someone who wasn’t just playing for entertainment. This was how I kept body and soul together most days, playing pool for drinks, the odd bar snack, and even the occasional cash reward. Playing for money was tricky, though. Your average punter didn’t mind losing a beer. That’s what it was all about, having a couple of laughs, buying a round, trying again. But when money was on the line, it was a different s********e guys took it personally.

Still, it was better than mugging old ladies at ATMs, or begging for change on street corners. And still safer than selling drugs.

“You’re going down.”

Another greasy looking oxygen thief slapped a coin on the table and adjusted his belt. He winked at someone who could have been his mother. If he’d ever had one.

I smiled my friendly smile, the one that said I wouldn’t kill him, not today, and reached for another beer. There was a new face propping up the bar next to my ever-growing collection of mugs. An older face, lined with memories, and crowned with a shock of white hair. Intense grey eyes seemed to absorb me, the pool table, my opponent, the entire bar, before nodding absently, as if it all met with his approval.

“Afternoon,” he smiled.

I gazed at him over the rim of the glass, wondering where I’d seen him before. Probably in the same place, different day. Johannesburg could be a really small world sometimes.

“You figured that out all by yourself, did you?”

He smiled again as I turned back to the table. Loverboy had broken, and I sank a couple of balls just for the hell of it. When I reached for another sip, Smiley was still there.

“You looking to make some spare cash?”

“Put a coin down,” I told him. “We’ll see what happens.”

Another smile. “I’m not talking about playing pool.”

I smiled back, tilted my head, drained the last of the beer, and was about to remove my new acquaintance’s face and wipe the bar with it, when he shook his head.

“Now, don’t get any ideas, son. I’m not talking about that, either.”

A bit disappointed, I lowered the glass.

“So what the f**k are you talking about?”

He pushed a beer towards me and nodded at the chair next to him. I took a handful of peanuts, played another shot, snookered the poor sod, then leaned back against the bar, watching the table.

“Go on, then.”

“I’ve been watching you play. You’re not bad. Certainly better than this lot. Which means that you probably play a lot, right?”

“Now and again. What’s your point?”

“I’m new to this town. Don’t know a soul. Although I’m expecting some friends to drop in later.”

“Do I look like a f*****g tour guide?” I played a shot, not really concentrating, setting up one ball and moving two of the other guy’s away from the pocket.

“I need some information, son. About some people you probably already know, but who you can get to know easily enough if you don’t.”

“You a cop?” After our previous run-in, I wasn’t in the mood to help the boys in blue. Then again, I can’t remember a single moment when I was in such a mood. I’d had various encounters over the years, from being searched on the street, to having my bedroom ransacked by the occult crimes division, to being told (on numerous occasions) to turn down my music. And waking up to find police cars parked across the street, waiting for me to turn the music up again. Then there was the famous birthday party in a friend’s flat, where I was passed out on the floor, headbutting the carpet in time to the new Metallica album, and the neighbours downstairs decided to complain about the noise. The police who’d responded to that call just couldn’t understand why I had carpet burns on my forehead, or why no-one was trying to stop me.

“Private investigator. Client’s hired me to look into the whereabouts of his daughter.”

I played two shots, carefully this time, and managed to clear the table. As the black sank into a corner pocket, my opponent shrugged and moved towards the bar, digging in his pockets for change.

“b****y typical. Some bird goes missing, and I get the blame.”

Mr PI lit a cigarette, still smiling. I was beginning to think that he was on something. Surely someone in his line of business had no right to be this happy.

“Funny, son, funny. No, I’ve got a pretty good idea where she is, but I can’t get in there to see how she is. It’s like a private club. Halfway to Pretoria. A select group of individuals, many of them very much like yourself. They’d see me coming a mile off. But you, on the other hand...”

I was starting to get an idea of the crowd he was talking about. There was a farm out near Midrand, which had been bought by some rich kid who’d inherited the family fortune. He’d turned it over to a bunch of lads, including bikers, survivalists, a couple of ex-defence force types, who’d got involved in some kind of commune effort, and claimed to be setting up a type of church for those living on the fringes of society. Falling squarely into that category myself, I’d been invited out there a couple of times, but had just never got around to actually going. Not that I had any intention of joining their loony tunes commune (and some of these guys were seriously loony tunes), but I knew some of the girls who’d moved out there. And there didn’t seem to be much talent in Mike’s. Visions of Charlie Manson sitting around a campfire, singing Helter Skelter while his family drove off into the night, swam before my eyes.

“What makes you think she would want anyone to know where she is?”

“That’s not the point, son. Her parents are worried about her. She dropped out of college and ran off to be with this lot. She’s screwing up her life.”

This was a subject close to my heart, and I had another drink.

“Her life. We’re not all meant to join the rat race.”

“Oh, I just love teenage angst. I wanted to change the world too, in my younger days. Believe me, it doesn’t always turn out the way you planned.”

“Life’s not a rehearsal. If she wants to get out there and live while she still can, who are you to interfere?”

“I’m the guy buying the beers.” And he pushed another one towards me. “I’m the guy prepared to pay a grand for the information I’m looking for.”

Being terminally unemployed, and living from day to day on the streets of Johannesburg, this was a tempting offer. What I would actually do with the money, I had no f*****g idea. But first things first.

“So, assuming I’m interested, where do we go from here?”

“I’ll get you a picture. I just need to know if she’s there, if she seems happy or if she’s there against her will, is she healthy, that kind of thing. Just a quick in and out.”

Another challenger was setting up the balls, trying to impress me by spinning them into place and using the triangle to make them jump. This guy had his own cue, which he’d taken from one of those carry-boxes and was now screwing together, and was even wearing a leather glove on one hand. I turned away in disgust.

“You any idea how dangerous these boys can be? You must have, if you’re scared to go yourself.”

This didn’t shake his smile. I was starting to think it was some kind of birth defect.

“Only to outsiders. They’ve got nothing against you, son. In fact, I think you were probably born for this job. Destiny, like.”

I was already starting to plan my next tattoo. Maybe a leather jacket as well. I didn’t see how a quick recce mission would help the parents any. I mean, they already knew that she was in there. So it wasn’t as if I would be betraying any great secret by having a quick look and reporting back.

And if some of the information got a bit twisted along the way, well, who was to know? This had the potential to turn into another small victory for the forces of khaos, spreading confusion among the blind slaves of law and order. Nothing earth shattering, but every little bit helped. Hey, even the unemployed can have a mission in life.

“Let me think about it for a couple of minutes.”

He smiled, puffed on his cigarette, and ordered another two beers.