Master of the Game

‘You all right?’ Banda breathed anxiously.

Jamie could not speak. He lay there, waiting for the waves of pain to recede. Banda ripped off a piece of his trousers and tied a strip tightly around Jamie’s arm to stop the bleeding.

‘We’ve got to keep moving,’ Banda warned. ‘If there’s one of them around, there are more.’

Jamie nodded. Slowly he slid his body forwards, fighting against the terrible throbbing in his arm.

He remembered nothing of the rest of the trek. He was semi-conscious, an automaton. Something outside him directed his movements. Arms forwards, pull … Arms forwards, pull … Arms forwards, pull … It was endless, an odyssey of agony. It was Banda who followed the compass now, and when Jamie started to crawl in the wrong direction Banda gently turned him around. They were surrounded by guards and dogs and land mines and only the mis kept them safe. They kept moving, crawling for their lives, until the time came when neither man had the strength to move another inch.

They slept.

When Jamie opened his eyes, something had changed. He lay there on the sand, his body stiff and aching, trying to remember where he was. He could see Banda asleep six feet away, and it all came flooding in. The raft crashing on the reefs … the sea mis … But something was wrong. Jamie sat up, trying to figure out what it was. And his stomach lurched. He could see Banda! That was what was wrong. The mis was lifting. Jamie heard voices nearby. He peered through the thin mists of the dissipating fog. They had crawled near the entrance to the diamond field. There was the high guard tower and the barbed-wire fence Banda had described. A crowd of about sixty black workers was moving away from the diamond field towards the gate. They had finished their shift and the next shift was coming in. Jamie got on his knees and crawled over to Banda and shook him. Banda sat up, instantly awake. His eyes turned to the watchtower and the gate.

‘Damn!’ he said incredulously. ‘We almost made it.’

‘We did make it! Give me those diamonds!’

Banda handed him the folded shirt. ‘What do you –?’

‘Follow me.’

‘Those guards with the guns at the gate,’ Banda said in a low voice, ‘they’ll know we don’t belong here.’

‘That’s what I’m counting on,’ Jamie told him.

The two men moved towards the guards, drifting between the line of departing workers and the line of arriving workers who were yelling at one another, exchanging good-natured catcalls.

‘You fellas gonna work your asses off, man. We got a nice sleep in the mis …’

‘How did you arrange for the mis, you lucky bastards.…?’

‘God listens to me. He ain’t gonna listen to you. You’re bad …’

Jamie and Banda reached the gate. Two huge armed guards stood inside, herding the departing workers over to the small tin hut where they would be thoroughly searched. They strip them down mother-naked and then they look up and down every hole they’ve got. Jamie clutched the tattered shirt in his hand more tightly. He pushed through the line of workers and walked up to a guard. ‘Excuse me, sir,’ Jamie said. ‘Who do we see about a job here?’

Banda was staring at him, petrified.

The guard turned to face Jamie. ‘What the hell are you doin’ inside the fence?’

‘We came in to look for work. I heard there was an opening for a guard, and my servant can dig. I thought –’

The guard eyed the two ragged, disreputable-looking figures. ‘Get the hell back outside!’

‘We don’t want to go outside,’ Jamie protested. ‘We need jobs, and I was told –’

‘This is a restricted area, mister. Didn’t you see the signs? Now get the hell out. Both of you!’ He pointed to a large bullock wagon outside the fence, filling with the workers who had finished their shift. ‘That wagon’ll take you to Port Nolloth. If you want a job, you have to apply at the company office there.’

‘Oh. Thank you, sir,’ Jamie said. He beckoned to Banda, and the two men moved out through the gate to freedom.

The guard glared after them. ‘Stupid idiots.’

Ten minutes later, Jamie and Banda were on their way to Port Nolloth. They were carrying with them diamonds worth half a million pounds.

Chapter Six

The expensive carriage rolled down the dusty main street of Klipdrift, drawn by two beautiful matched bays. At the reins was a slender, athletic-looking man with snow-white hair, a white beard and moustache. He was dressed in a fashionable tailored grey suit and ruffled shirt, and in his black cravat was a diamond stickpin. He wore a grey top hat, and on his little finger was a large, sparkling diamond ring. He appeared to be a stranger to the town, but he was not.

Klipdrift had changed considerably since Jamie McGregor had left it a year earlier. It was 1884, and it had grown from a camp to a township. The railway had been completed from Cape Town to Hopetown, with a branch running to Klipdrift, and this had created a whole new wave of immigrants. The town was even more crowded than Jamie remembered, but the people seemed different. There were still many prospectors, but there were also men in business suits and well-dressed matrons walking in and out of stores. Klipdrift had acquired a patina of respectability.

Jamie passed three new dance halls and half a dozen new saloons. He drove by a recently built church and barbershop, and a large hotel called the Grand. He stopped in front of a bank and alighted from the carriage, carelessly tossing the reins to a native boy.

‘Water them.’

Jamie entered the bank and said to the manager in a loud voice, ‘I wish to deposit one hundred thousand pounds in your bank.’

The word spread quickly, as Jamie had known it would, and by the time he left the bank and entered the Sundowner Saloon, he was the centre of interest. The interior of the saloon had not changed. It was crowded, and curious eyes followed Jamie as he walked up to the bar. Smit nodded deferentially. ‘What would you like, sir?’ There was no recognition on the bartender’s face.

‘Whiskey. The best you have.’

‘Yes, sir.’ He poured the drink. ‘You’re new in town?’

‘Yes.’

‘Just passin’ through, are you?’

‘No. I’ve heard this is a good town for a man looking for investments.’

The bartender’s eyes lighted up. ‘You couldn’t find better! A man with a hundred – A man with money can do real well for hisself. Matter of fact, I might be of some service to you, sir.’

‘Really? How is that?’

Smit leaned forwards, his tone conspiratorial. ‘I know a man who runs this town. He’s chairman of the Borough Council and head of the Citizen’s Committee. He’s the most important man in this part of the country. Name of Salomon van der Merwe.’

Jamie took a sip of his drink. ‘Never heard of him.’

‘He owns that big general store across the street. He can put you on to some good deals. It’d be worth your while to meet him.’

Jamie McGregor took another sip of his drink. ‘Have him come over here.’

The bartender glanced at the large diamond ring on Jamie’s finger, and at his diamond stickpin. ‘Yes, sir. Can I tell him your name?’

‘Travis. Ian Travis.’

‘Right, Mr Travis. I’m sure Mr van der Merwe will want to meet you.’ He poured out another drink. ‘Have this while you’re waitin’. It’s on the house.’

Jamie sat at the bar sipping the whiskey, aware that everyone in the saloon was watching him. Men had departed from Klipdrift wealthy, but no one of such obvious wealth had ever arrived there before. It was something new in their experience.

Fifteen minutes later, the bartender was back, accompanied by Salomon van der Merwe.

Van der Merwe walked up to the bearded, white-haired stranger, held out his hand and smiled. ‘Mr Travis, I’m Salomon van der Merwe.’

‘Ian Travis.’

Jamie waited for a flicker of recognition, a sign that Van der Merwe found something familiar about him. There was nothing. But then, why should there be? Jamie thought. There was nothing left of that naïve, idealistic, eighteen-year-old boy he had been. Smit obsequiously led the two men to a corner table.

As soon as they were seated, Van der Merwe said, ‘I understand you’re looking for some investments in Klipdrift, Mr Travis.’

‘Possibly.’

‘I might be able to be of some service. One has to be careful. There are many immoral people around.’

Jamie looked at him and said, ‘I’m sure there are.’

It was unreal, sitting there carrying on a polite conversation with the man who had cheated him out of a fortune and then tried to murder him. His hatred for Van der Merwe had consumed him for the last year, his thirst for vengeance was all that had sustained him, kept him alive. And now Van der Merwe was about to feel that vengeance.

‘If you don’t mind my asking, Mr Travis, how much money were you planning on investing?’

‘Oh, around a hundred thousand pounds to begin with,’ Jamie said carelessly. He watched Van der Merwe wet his lips. ‘Then perhaps three or four hundred thousand more.’

‘Er – you should be able to do very well with that, very well, indeed. With the right guidance, of course,’ he added quickly. ‘Do you have any idea what you might want to invest in?’

‘I thought I’d look around and see what opportunities there were.’

‘That’s very wise of you.’ Van der Merwe nodded sagely. ‘Perhaps you would like to come to dinner tonight and we can discuss it? My daughter’s an excellent cook. It would be an honour to have you.’

Jamie smiled. ‘I’d enjoy that, Mr van der Merwe.’ You have no idea how much I’d enjoy that, he thought.

It had started.

The journey from the diamond fields of Namib to Cape Town had been uneventful. Jamie and Banda had hiked inland to a small village where a doctor treated Jamie’s arm, and they had gotten a lift on a wagon bound for Cape Town. It was a long, difficult ride, but they were oblivious to the discomfort. At Cape Town, Jamie checked into the ornate Royal Hotel on Plein Street – ‘Patronized by HRH, the Duke of Edinburgh’ – and was escorted to the Royal Suite.

‘I want you to send up the best barber in town,’ Jamie told the manager. ‘Then I want a tailor and a bootmaker up here.’

‘At once, sir,’ the manager said.

It’s wonderful what money can do, Jamie thought.

The bath in the Royal Suite was heaven. Jamie lay back in the hot water, soaking the tiredness out of his body, thinking back over the past incredible weeks. Had it been only weeks since he and Banda had built that raft? It seemed like years. Jamie thought about the raft sailing them to the Sperrgebiet, and the sharks, and the demon waves and the reefs tearing the raft to pieces. The sea mis and the crawling over the land mines, and the huge dog on top of him … The eerie, muffled cries that would ring in his ears forever: Kruger … Brent … Kruger … Brent …

But most of all, he thought of Banda. His friend.

When they had reached Cape Town, Jamie had urged, ‘Stay with me.’

Banda smiled, showing his beautiful white teeth. ‘Life’s too dull with you, Jamie. I have to go somewhere and find a little excitement.’

‘What will you do now?’

‘Well, thanks to you and your wonderful plan about how easy it is to float a raft over the reef, I’m going to buy a farm, find a wife and have a lot of children.’

‘All right. Let’s go to the diamant kooper so I can give you your share of the diamonds.’

‘No,’ Banda said. ‘I don’t want it.’

Jamie frowned. ‘What are you talking about? Half the diamonds are yours. You’re a millionaire.’

‘No. Look at my skin, Jamie. If I became a millionaire, my life would not be worth a tickey.’

‘You can hide some of the diamonds away. You can –’

‘All I need is enough to buy a morgen of farmland and two oxen to trade for a wife. Two or three little diamonds will get me everything I’ll ever want. The rest are yours.’

‘That’s impossible. You can’t give me your share.’

‘Yes, I can, Jamie. Because you’re going to give me Salomon van der Merwe.’

Jamie looked at Banda for a long moment. ‘I promise.’

‘Then I’ll say good-bye, my friend.’

The two men clasped hands.

‘We’ll meet again,’ Banda said. ‘Next time think of something really exciting for us to do.’

Banda walked away with three small diamonds carefully tucked in his pocket.

Jamie sent off a bank draught amounting to twenty thousand pounds to his parents, bought the finest carriage and team he could find and headed back to Klipdrift.

The time had come for revenge.

That evening when Jamie McGregor entered Van der Merwe’s store, he was gripped by a sensation so unpleasant and so violent that he had to pause to regain control of himself.

Van der Merwe hurried out of the back of the shop, and when he saw who it was, his face lighted up in a big smile. ‘Mr Travis!’ he said. ‘Welcome.’

‘Thank you, mister – er – sorry, I don’t remember your name …’

‘Van der Merwe. Salomon van der Merwe. Don’t apologize. Dutch names are difficult to remember. Dinner is ready. Margaret!’ he called as he led Jamie into the back room. Nothing had changed. Margaret was standing at the stove over a frying pan, her back to them.

‘Margaret, this is our guest I spoke of – Mr Travis.’

Margaret turned. ‘How do you do?’

There was not a flicker of recognition.

‘I’m pleased to meet you,’ Jamie nodded.

The customer bell rang and Van der Merwe said, ‘Excuse me, I’ll be right back. Please make yourself at home, Mr Travis.’ He hurried out.

Margaret carried a steaming bowl of vegetables and meat over to the table, and as she hurried to take the bread from the oven Jamie stood there, silently looking at her. She had blossomed in the year since he had seen her. She had become a woman, with a smouldering sexuality that had been lacking before.

‘Your father tells me you’re an excellent cook.’

Margaret blushed. ‘I – I hope so, sir.’

‘It’s been a long time since I’ve tasted home cooking. I’m looking forward to this.’ Jamie took a large butter dish from Margaret and placed it on the table for her. Margaret was so surprised she almost dropped the plate in her hands. She had never heard of a man who helped in woman’s work. She lifted her startled eyes to his face. A broken nose and a scar spoiled what would otherwise have been a too-handsome face. His eyes were light grey and shone with intelligence and a burning intensity. His white hair told her that he was not a young man, and yet there was something very youthful about him. He was tall and strong and – Margaret turned away, embarrassed by his gaze.

Van der Merwe hurried back into the room, rubbing his hands. ‘I’ve closed the shop,’ he said. ‘Let’s sit down and have a fine dinner.’

Jamie was given the place of honour at the table. ‘We’ll say grace,’ Van der Merwe said.

They closed their eyes. Margaret slyly opened hers again, so that she could continue her scrutiny of the elegant stranger while her father’s voice droned on. ‘We are all sinners in your eyes, O Lord, and must be punished. Give us the strength to bear our hardships on this earth, so that we may enjoy the fruits of heaven when we are called. Thank you, Lord, for helping those of us who deserve to prosper. Amen.’

Salomon van der Merwe began serving. This time the portions he served Jamie were more than generous. They talked as they ate. ‘Is this your first time out this way, Mr Travis?’

‘Yes,’ Jamie said. ‘First time.’

‘You didn’t bring Mrs Travis along, I understand.’

‘There is no Mrs Travis. I haven’t found anyone who’d have me.’ Jamie smiled.

What fool of a woman would refuse him? Margaret wondered. She lowered her eyes, afraid the stranger might read her wicked thoughts.

‘Klipdrift is a town of great opportunity, Mr Travis. Great opportunity.’

‘I’m willing to be shown.’ He looked at Margaret, and she blushed.

‘If it isn’t too personal, Mr Travis, may I ask how you acquired your fortune?’

Margaret was embarrassed by her father’s blunt questions, but the stranger did not seem to mind.

‘I inherited it from my father,’ James said easily.

‘Ah, but I’m sure you’ve had a lot of business experience.’

‘Very little, I’m afraid. I need a lot of guidance.’

Van der Merwe brightened. ‘It’s fate that we met, Mr Travis. I have some very profitable connections. Very profitable, indeed. I can almost guarantee that I can double your money for you in just a few months.’ He leaned over and patted Jamie’s arm. ‘I have a feeling this is a big day for both of us.’

Jamie just smiled.

‘I suppose you’re staying at the Grand Hotel?’

‘That’s right.’

‘It’s criminally expensive. But I suppose to a man of your means.’ He beamed at Jamie.

Jamie said, ‘I’m told the countryside around here is interesting. Would it be an imposition to ask you to let your daughter show me around a bit tomorrow?’

Margaret felt her heart stop for a second.

Van der Merwe frowned. ‘I don’t know. She –’

It was an iron-clad rule of Salomon van der Merwe’s never to permit any man to be alone with his daughter. In the case of Mr Travis, however, he decided there would be no harm in making an exception. With so much at stake, he did not want to appear inhospitable. ‘I can spare Margaret from the store for a short time. You will show our guest around, Margaret?’

‘If you wish, Father,’ she said quietly.

‘That’s settled then.’ Jamie smiled. ‘Shall we say ten o’clock in the morning?’

After the tall, elegantly dressed guest left, Margaret cleared away the table and washed the dishes, in a complete daze. He must think I’m an idiot. She went over and over in her mind everything she had contributed to the conversation. Nothing. She had been completely tongue-tied. Why was that? Hadn’t she waited on hundreds of men in the store without becoming a stupid fool? Of course they had not looked at her the way Ian Travis had. Men all have the devil in them, Margaret. I’ll not let them corrupt your innocence. Her father’s voice echoed in her mind. Could that be it? The weakness and trembling she had felt when the stranger had looked at her? Was he corrupting her innocence? The thought of it sent a delicious thrill through her body. She looked down at the plate she had dried three times and sat down at the table. She wished her mother were still alive.

Her mother would have understood. Margaret loved her father, but sometimes she had the oppressive feeling that she was his prisoner. It worried her that he never allowed a man to come near her. I’ll never get married, Margaret thought. Not until he dies. Her rebellious thoughts filled her with guilt, and she hurriedly left the room and went into the store, where her father sat behind a desk, working on his accounts.

‘Good night, Father.’

Van der Merwe took off his gold-framed spectacles and rubbed his eyes before he raised his arms to embrace his daughter good night. Margaret did not know why she pulled away.

Alone in the curtained-off alcove that served as her bedroom, Margaret studied her face in the small, round mirror that hung on the wall. She had no illusions about her looks. She was not pretty. She was interesting-looking. Nice eyes. High cheekbones. A good figure. She drew nearer to the mirror. What had Ian Travis seen when he looked at her? She began getting undressed. And Ian Travis was in the room with her, watching her, his eyes burning into her. She stepped out of her muslin drawers and camisole and stood naked before him. Her hands slowly caressed the swell of her breasts and felt her hardening nipples. Her fingers slid down across her flat belly and his hands became entwined with hers, moving slowly downward. They were between her legs now, gently touching, stroking, rubbing, harder now, faster and faster until she was caught up in a frantic whirlpool of sensation that finally exploded inside her and she gasped his name and fell to the bed.

They rode out in Jamie’s carriage, and he was amazed once more at the changes that had taken place. Where before there had been only a sea of tents, now there were substantial-looking houses, constructed of timber with roofs of corrugated iron or thatch.

‘Klipdrift seems very prosperous,’ Jamie said as they rode along the main street.

‘I suppose it would be interesting for a newcomer,’ Margaret said. And she thought, I’ve hated it until now.

They left the town and drove out towards the mining camps along the Vaal River. The seasonal rains had turned the countryside into an enormous, colourful garden, filled with the luxuriant bush Karroo, and the spreading Rhenoster bush and heaths and diosmas plants that could be found nowhere else in the world. As they drove past a group of prospectors, Jamie asked, ‘Have there been any big diamond finds lately?’

‘Oh, yes, a few. Every time the news gets out, hundreds of new diggers come pouring in. Most of them leave poor and heartbroken. Margaret felt she had to warn him of the danger here. ‘Father would not like to hear me say this, but I think it’s a terrible business, Mr Travis.’

‘For some, probably,’ Jamie agreed. ‘For some.’

‘Do you plan to stay on a while?’

‘Yes.’

Margaret felt her heart singing. ‘Good.’ Then added quickly, ‘Father will be pleased.’

They drove around all morning, and from time to time they stopped and Jamie chatted with prospectors. Many of them recognized Margaret and spoke respectfully. There was a warmth to her and an easy friendliness that she did not reveal when she was around her father.

As they drove on, Jamie said, ‘Everyone seems to know you.’

She blushed. ‘That’s because they do business with Father. He supplies most of the diggers.’

Jamie made no comment. He was keenly interested in what he was seeing. The railroad had made an enormous difference. A new combine called De Beers, named after the farmer in whose field the first diamond discovery was made, had bought out its chief rival, a colourful entrepreneur named Barney Barnato, and De Beers was busily consolidating the hundreds of small claims into one organization. Gold had been discovered recently, not far from Kimberley, along with manganese and zinc. Jamie was convinced this was only the beginning, that South Africa was a treasure-house of minerals. There were incredible opportunities here for a man with foresight.

When Jamie and Margaret returned, it was late afternoon. Jamie stopped the carriage in front of Van der Merwe’s store and said, ‘I would be honoured if you and your father would be my guests at dinner tonight.’

Margaret glowed. ‘I’ll ask Father. I do so hope he’ll say yes. Thank you for a lovely day, Mr Travis.’

And she fled.

The three of them had dinner in the large, square dining room of the new Grand Hotel.

The room was crowded, and Van der Merwe grumbled, ‘I don’t see how these people can afford to eat here.’

Jamie picked up a menu and glanced at it. A steak cost one pound four shillings, a potato was four shillings and a piece of apple pie ten shillings.

‘They’re robbers!’ Van der Merwe complained. ‘A few meals here and a man could eat himself into the poorhouse.’

Jamie wondered what it would take to put Salomon van der Merwe in the poorhouse. He intended to find out. They ordered, and Jamie noticed that Van der Merwe ordered the most expensive items on the menu. Margaret ordered a clear soup. She was too excited to eat. She looked at her hands, remembered what they had done the night before and felt guilty.

‘I can afford dinner,’ Jamie teased her. ‘Order anything you like.’

She blushed. ‘Thank you, but I’m – I’m not really very hungry.’

Van der Merwe noticed the blush and looked sharply from Margaret to Jamie. ‘My daughter is a rare girl, a rare girl, Mr Travis.’