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you.’
    â€˜Hey,’ Solly called, ‘let’s just wait for the police.’
    Solly was right, but Mike was angry. The bag of vulture heads had incensed him. ‘There’s more to this than just the heads.’
    â€˜I agree,’ Solly said, ‘but we are not the law.’
    Mike ignored the older man’s words of caution and addressed the henchman. ‘If you’re delivering the vulture heads for Bandile Dlamini then you’re just a courier, not a serious criminal. Tell me where you got them from and I’ll put in a good word for you when the police arrive.’
    The man spat blood. ‘I’ll tell the police what you did to me and I’ll charge you with assault, white man. Go fuck yourself.’
    It wasn’t in Mike to torture the man any further, beyond the kicking he’d given him, but he needed him to talk. He picked him up by the hood of his top and pushed him around the corner of the stall to where the stallholder was sitting, bound and gagged. ‘OK, how about I let you go free. I’ll take the heads, and this guy,’ he gestured to the stallholder with his pistol, ‘can tell the cops how he was never going to buy any vulture heads and instead cooperated fully with the police and national parks officers. You get to go back to Dlamini and tell him you lost the heads and didn’t get the cash. How about that?’
    The man’s eyes darted from the stallholder back to Mike, and then to Solly. Seeing he’d get no sympathy from the old ranger he looked at Mike again. ‘What do you want?’
    â€˜I asked you already,’ Mike said. ‘Who’s your boss?’
    â€˜Those vulture heads weren’t mine. I was just making a delivery.’
    â€˜A delivery for who?’ Mike replied.
    â€˜Fuck you. I want a lawyer.’
    Mike leaned over the man and again pressed the pistol to his head. ‘You think I won’t shoot, right?’
    The man glared back at him. ‘I know you won’t, and I’m going to see that you’re charged.’
    Mike looked to Solly. ‘Take the stallholder away, out of sight. You don’t need to see this.’
    Solly hesitated. ‘Mr Mike …’
    â€˜Go. No one will miss this piece of shit, certainly not his boss, since he lost both the goods and the money. Leave me to finish this. He is no use to us any longer and it’s time I sent him on his way.’ Mike took his captive’s pistol from his pocket and passed it to Solly.
    Solly took the firearm, lifted the stallholder up by his bound wrists and pushed him towards the street.
    â€˜Please,’ the man at Mike’s feet said. Mike had never had any intention of executing him, but he had the satisfaction of seeing the fear in his face.
    Solly, who seemed unable to tell if Mike was bluffing or not, gave him a worried look. ‘What do you want me to do?’
    â€˜Keep that guy under wraps somewhere. Call the police. They’re busy with a load of other kak , but they’ll get here eventually. Don’t let Dlamini see you’ve got our shopkeeper here, or he might drive off. We want him as well.’
    â€˜You’ve got this all wrong,’ the captive said.
    The man cast his eyes towards Solly, but the ex-ranger had turned his back on them, probably with a measure of disgust for both of them.
    â€˜Solly can’t help you, only I can.’ Mike raised the pistol so it was pointed between the man’s eyes. ‘And right now, we could be the only two people left in the world. Say a prayer.’
    The man licked his lips, quick, like a snake. ‘Wait. There’s more at stake here than the heads.’
    Mike looked over the barrel of the gun. ‘Like what?’
    â€˜Bigger stuff than vulture heads.’
    â€˜Tell me.’
    â€˜Bandile Dlamini’s not involved.’
    Mike rolled his eyes. ‘Whatever. Tell me what you know.’ The man hesitated, as though