"Don't let them take me," Song says, sobbing. She throws herself at him, clutching onto his pants legs.
The door of 1910 down the way opens a crack and Security Boy shouts down the corridor, "Close that door. Mind your business!"
"As you you should," the Marabou says. should," the Marabou says.
"They're trying to kidnap me!" Song yelps, on her knees, hanging onto Security Boy's belt, looking up at him with huge kohl-lined eyes.
"She's been off her medication for a week," says the Maltese, slowly unbuttoning his blazer in a deliberate Idon't-have-a-weapon-in-here kind of way. "She's totally delusional."
"Wait. Wait a minute." Security Boy is flustered.
"I have a letter from her doctor." The Maltese reaches into the inside pocket of his jacket and removes a piece of paper. He carefully unfolds it, revealing the Haven's letterhead.
"Just wait! Let's start again. Who are you people?"
"This is a letter from the clinic that will elaborate on her condition. Severe paranoid delusions. She's been missing for days. We've come to fetch her home."
"Please. It's a trick. Don't listen," Song whimpers. The Maltese proffers the letter. But as Security Boy reaches for it, Song grabs at his mace, yanks it out the holster, and sprays him in the face with it. He recoils, choking, fists digging into his eye sockets.
Sloth starts wailing as we catch some of the misty residue. My eyes and nose start streaming with the burn, but it's not so bad that I can't lunge to grab Song's skinny arm and swing her back. The momentum swings her round so that she slams backwards into the window with a terrible crack. For a sickening second, I wait for it to splinter under the shock of her weight and catapult her nineteen storeys down. But the glass holds.
"Ow! Msunu! Msunu!" she swears.
"Calm down. No one's going to hurt you," I try to reassure her.
"Are you kidding me? You just did. Fuck you!" She tries to smash my instep with the heel of her boot, but I've already removed my foot from harm's way. Security Boy is half kneeling on the floor, one hand cupped over his eyes, gabbling into his radio to summon the cavalry. The Marabou and the Maltese watch, amused.
"A little help here?"
"Oh no. You need to earn your fee," Marabou says. Her Stork throws back its head and makes awful gulping motions, as if it's laughing.
Song is struggling and writhing like she's midgrand mal seizure. When she throws her head back to smash my nose, I grab her hair, hold her head, and march her forward. And that's pretty much how we descend nineteen floors, with her squirming and swearing all the way. Security Boy stumbles behind, one hand against the wall guiding him down. I try to talk to her, softly so that the Marabou and the Maltese won't hear. seizure. When she throws her head back to smash my nose, I grab her hair, hold her head, and march her forward. And that's pretty much how we descend nineteen floors, with her squirming and swearing all the way. Security Boy stumbles behind, one hand against the wall guiding him down. I try to talk to her, softly so that the Marabou and the Maltese won't hear.
"Why'd you run away?"
"Fuck you."
"Was it something Odi did?"
"What didn't didn't Odi fucking do?" Odi fucking do?"
"I'm trying to help you, you little brat."
"By taking me back? Some help you are."
"What did you think you were doing here? Playing house with your bouncer boyfriend?"
"He's not my boyfriend, and it's not his place. Ro lives three floors down. It's mine. I paid for it." She adds for emphasis, "With my money. That I earned."
I try a different tack. "You had Mrs Luthuli really worried."
That shuts her up, but only for a moment. "I'm sorry," she stage-whispers. "They're going to kill me, you know."
"I completely understand that. I'd quite like to kill you myself right now."
"Ask them what happened to Jabu."
"Who's Jabu?"
"Ask them. Ask them where he is now." She yells the name so it echoes down the stairwell. "Jaaaaabulaaaaani Nkutha!" She rolls her eyes at me. "Ask them!"
When we get downstairs, a police car is parked on the street outside, with a small cluster of High Point's security gathered around, watching disapprovingly. Their commander, an older man with features ravaged by sun damage and acne scarring, pours milk onto Security Boy's face to neutralise the mace.
The Marabou bundles Songweza into the Mercedes, which is parked across the road, and locks the doors. The Maltese walks over to talk to the cop and smooth things over with the official letter from the Haven that Explains Everything. As he hands it over, I get a glimpse of a wad of blue R100 notes folded inside.
"So who's Jabu?" I ask Marabou, playing innocent.
"Jabu? A horrible boy she met in rehab. He stole her money, broke her heart and took off."
"Just disappeared?"
"Maybe he went back to his parents. How do I know? I didn't install a tracker."
"Is she normally"
"Hormone imbalances. Manic depression. Whatever it is called. She is supposed to be on medication."
"And how exactly did you find her?"
"She made a call to a friend. The friend called us. Do not worry, you'll still be paid, as long as you are discreet." She gives me an appraising look. "I'd hate to see this feature in a blog." The Bird does that horrible swallowinglaughing thing with its head again. I have no idea what she is talking about.
"When can I get my money?"
"My, we are in a rush. We'll get it to you in the next few days. I assume cash is acceptable?"
"I'll come by tomorrow to collect it. And I'd like to see how Songweza is doing."
"Your concern is touching," she says indifferently. I glance up at her lost things. They're strangely sharp. Maybe it's just her, or proximity to her. The gloves and the book are still tethered to her among her lost things,but the firearm is noticeably absent.
"I see you found your gun," I say.
"What?" Her head swings my way. Her Bird clatters its beak at me.
"A Vektor?"
"Ah yes. One of my "lost things"? I did find it, thank you."
"Is it licensed?" I glance over at the cops.
"If you understood what I had been through, you would know I would need something for self-defence."