As the joy and excitement left my restless body after watching the Springboks loss to the bloody Wallabies. I could not believe it, all we needed was a conversion kick our wonder kid Handré Pollard blew it.
- I told you those bums will loss, they can just never get over the finish line like the aussies.
As the sound of the doorbell rang my heart skipped a beat. I wasn’t expecting a client at 4 O’clock
- Shut up will you and get the door that is what am paying you for Lorna.
The door opens.
- Hey, I am looking for Zipo Mag, I am sorry but I can pronounce the last name.
- No worries Ms no one can. And your name is?
- Come in have a sit, let me check if he is available.
Lorna walked into my office she described the client to me “she is wearing a black sunglasses could not really see a face. I think she is in mourning” bloody hell I thought to myself another widow.
- Bring her in
She walked to reception
- He is ready for you.
As she walked into my office. She had an amazing pair of legs that my eyes has ever seen, she was wearing a black easy waisted maxi dress. I easily recognised it, I have bought it before for my ex-wife, who now takes all my money and my so called kids, who only come home when they need something. Just like cats.
- Good afternoon, how may I help you?
- Hello, my name is Hattie Biko
- Hold on, you are not related to the Great Steve Biko are you?
- No, sorry
- He was a great man.
- Steve, sorry what can I do for you?
She rose to her feet then she removed her sunglasses. Her eyes gave the impression that she could look into your soul and review your darkest secrets.
- I will like you to find my husband’s killer.