Gabriel Laucus has lost his job and his parent’s home is about to be repossessed. Desperate and on the brink of financial ruin, he devises a risky insurance scam to salvage his crumbling life. This sets in motion a catastrophic chain of events. Soon, Gabriel and his friends have a psychopathic hitman, a ruthless drug lord, and a relentless investigator on their tail. As Gabriel navigates a world of fraud and dangerous alliances, he must outwit his pursuers and confront the harrowing repercussions of his choices. Deadly Benefits is a heart-pounding journey through the high-stakes game of survival. The price of one wrong move could mean life or death.
69
The minibus taxi dropped Gabriel just outside the shebeen doors. Despite being bathed in the warm setting sun, the single-storey building looked dark, cold and ominous. The garage-door entrance yawned like a mouth looking to devour him.
What the hell was he doing? This was an incredibly dumb move, coming here at Witbooi’s beck and call. This building was a cage in which murderers were lying in wait for him. Skellie was probably dead already. Dead because of his own damn stupidity. Why hadn’t he just paid off Witbooi immediately?
He should just leave. That would be the smart thing to do, yet Gabriel found himself walking into the jaws of this monster.
He heard the familiar smack of a snooker ball striking another and someone saying, ‘Now you’re done, chomma. I’m gonna run this table.’
‘Voetsek,’ another voice replied. ‘You miss and you lose.’ Gabriel’s eyes slowly adjusted to the gloom.
Witbooi sat in the far corner of the room on a high bar stool. To his left, on a red vinyl bench that looked as if it had been snatched from a Wimpy restaurant, sat Limos. His fat cascaded over his pants; his jowls looked like melting candle wax.
‘Gaga,’ – Witbooi waved at him – ‘come on in. Don’t be scared.’ Gabriel counted seven people in the room, including Witbooi and Limos. Skellie wasn’t there. Two of Witbooi’s soldiers were playing pool on the table closest to the door, another soldier was sitting on the second pool table with his back to Gabriel, and yet another was leaning over the counter and talking to Aunty Doris. She was the supposed owner of the establishment, though everyone in Eldos knew that Witbooi was the sole investor. Her presence, though, offered Gabriel some relief. Surely Witbooi would be reluctant to kill him with a witness there? At least, he hoped that would be the case.
Gabriel stood with the pool table between him and Witbooi. ‘Where’s Skellie?’
Witbooi smiled. He gestured towards the floor in front of him. ‘He’s parking here. Come see.’
The pool players had stopped playing their game for a moment. They resumed as Gabriel strode past. He navigated around the far end of the pool table, away from where Limos sat, and looked at the object sitting on the floor.
He only knew it was human because it was wearing clothes.
‘Oh fuck!’ He wasn’t sure if he had said that out loud or only in his head. Skellie’s face was unrecognisable. It looked like a ball of mincemeat with a single, identifiable eye. His flesh was raw and purple with bruises. Blood oozed from wherever skin had been torn.
Skellie tried to smile. ‘I take it I don’t look my best.’ His mouth was missing at least two teeth.
‘What the fuck, Witbooi?’ Gabriel found himself exclaiming before he could contain himself.
‘You see what I fucking mean?’ Limos scowled. ‘This snitch has no respect either. Listen how he talks to us.’
‘He’s emotional,’ Witbooi replied calmly, not taking his eyes from Gabriel. ‘It’s understandable. I won’t hold it against him, mos.’
Gabriel sucked in some air to slow his heart rate, ‘What’s going on here?’
‘It’s simple, bruh. Simple business. Skellie here owes me money and he hasn’t paid.’
‘What?’ Gabriel looked down at Skellie, then back to Witbooi. ‘But he came to pay you last night. You wanted to meet him here. His debt is settled.’
‘Not exactly,’ Skellie added. ‘I was waiting for him, but I got robbed.’ ‘Was, was, was. “Was” means nothing to me.’ Witbooi leaned back.
‘The point is, he didn’t pay me. Now I’m charging interest and he has listed you as …’ – he paused and turned to Limos – ‘what’s that thing called? When someone nominates someone as a backup if they can’t pay back a loan or something?’
‘Surety,’ Gabriel said.
‘That’s the word,’ Witbooi clapped. ‘Surety. Look how smart you are. He said you’re his surety, Mr Businessman. And you will cover his debt. And interest.’
Gabriel gritted his teeth. ‘Fine. How much does he owe now?’ ‘A hundred thousand,’ Limo hissed.
The three words hung in the air like pollen on a breeze. ‘What? That’s bullshit.’
Witbooi shrugged. ‘It is what it is.’
“Witbooi’s hand disappeared behind his back and returned clutching a pistol.”
Gabriel paused. ‘He doesn’t have that kinda money.’
‘Yes, he does. He told me everything about your scheme.’
‘Yeah,’ Skellie spoke quickly. ‘I told them everything, bruh. That we hit a company down for 200 K.’
Gabriel understood the lie he needed to follow.
‘You’re fucking lucky we’re not taking the full 200, you piece of shit,’ Limos added. ‘For pain and trauma this poes caused us in trying to collect.’ ‘I agree,’ Witbooi said. ‘I think we’re being more than generous here by just saying R100000,’ – he gestured towards Skellie – ‘after all the kak this guy’s put me through.’
‘Okay,’ said Gabriel. ‘I’ll get you the Netcoin wallet login details and—’ ‘Uh-uh,’ Limos interjected, ‘none of that fake money kak.’
‘We prefer it in cash,’ Witbooi added.
‘We don’t have it in cash. It will take a few days to get it in cash.’ ‘You have until eight tonight.’
‘I’m telling you, Witbooi, I can’t get it in cash today. It will take time.
It—’
Witbooi’s hand disappeared behind his back and returned clutching a pistol. ‘Why are you lying?’
Gabriel raised his hands. ‘I’m not lying.’
‘He doesn’t know!’ Skellie said quickly. He turned to Gabriel. ‘Check here. I have the money, in cash. At my house. Check in my underwear drawer.’
Gabriel did his best to stop his face from showing the confusion he felt.
What was he playing at?
‘Don’t fuck around with me, Gaga,’ Witbooi added. ‘I don’t need both of you to fetch my fucking money.’
‘Okay. Fine. I’ll get it.’
‘Good.’ Witbooi rested his gun on his lap. ‘Bring it back here at eight.
Then you can have a dop, on me.’
70
Yara Petrova stared at the photograph on her computer screen. It was the same man. It had to be. She read the article on the South African news website again: Underworld Boss Cleared of Charges. Luca Vydra wasn’t smiling in the photograph but she could see the glee in his eyes. He was revelling in this victory. The name had struck her like a hunger pain, deep in her gut. It had stood out when she was investigating Roxanne Lamprecht’s claims activity. Vydra – it was familiar, and not only because she recognised it as being Ukrainian, so she had dug deeper. With each additional click of her mouse, her stomach had tightened more. He was a member of the Brotherhood. The sudden memory of horse manure al- most made her retch; her fifteen-year-old face being shoved into the cold filth while they laughed and raped her. There had been three of them, all younger than eighteen. One, Milo, she had thought was her friend. When she reported what had happened to her mother, the woman told her that she should be thankful they hadn’t killed her. When her father heard about it, he tried to beat her, but she managed to overpower him as he was still weak after recently recovering from tuberculosis. He wasn’t too weak to attack her with his tongue, though. He told her that it was her fault and she should carry her shame in silence. Yara refused. She went to the local police station to report her rape but was met with derision by a constable.
‘Stupid girl,’ he laughed. ‘Do you not know who Milo Pyatov’s father is?’
‘I know who he is,’ she persevered. ‘He’s a member of the Brotherhood.
I don’t care.’
‘Go home with your nonsense.’
She refused and kicked up such a raucous fuss that the commander himself came out from the back. She couldn’t remember his name, but she remembered that he was a handsome man with the kindest eyes. He took her into his office, gave her a hot cup of uzvar, and asked her to tell him what had happened. That was the only time she allowed herself to break down in tears, and the commander comforted her in his own arms. He promised her he would sort this out. And she believed him.
“She struggled to believe that Muzi would be caught up in this kind of fraud. Yet the evidence did not lie.”
That night, she was in her bedroom, unable to sleep, when the headlight beams cut through the darkness of their hovel. From her window Yara saw a single police car and two large SUVs coming to a stop. Despite her confusion, the sight of the commander gave her a swift sense of relief. That died quickly when the men from the other two cars climbed out – they were from the Brotherhood. Her father went out to meet them and the commander punched him in the face. The members of the Brotherhood laughed. One kicked her father in the ribs as he lay in the mud. Words were exchanged, words she couldn’t hear, and a few banknotes were thrown on the floor. At this point, the commander looked up at her; he smiled and waved before they all left. The next morning, she was sent away to her aunt in Kyiv. That had been over thirty years ago, and yet she could still smell that manure. It was still on her face. It was still in her hair. And now the Brotherhood had followed her to South Africa. But this time, she would not be sent away.
She navigated back to the Tantaline CRM and confirmed that it was indeed Roxanne Lamprecht who had approved the claim. This was a scam, as Yara knew that Vydra was still alive. She had spoken to him earlier that day, though she hadn’t revealed who she really was. She didn’t want him to know she was on to them. Not just yet.
Lamprecht was a low-intelligence poviya. She did not have the mental capabilities to come up with this kind of plan on her own, so who had helped her? Vydra was certainly the mastermind, but there had to be others at Tantaline who were involved. She navigated through Vydra’s profile to see who had previously worked on this policy. Donald Hofmeyr’s name appeared. She drilled deeper into the record and saw he had made edits to the profile just before the claim was made. That was it, she thought. He had to be the primary inside man. And now that she thought about it, there were rumours that Donald and Roxanne had once been sexually involved. Cyka. His involvement in the scheme also explained his sudden disappearance from work. She had never trusted or liked that bug-eyed man, and now she was proud that her instinct had been proved correct.
She was about to close the profile when another name leapt out at her. Muzi Mofokeng. That was strange. His name shouldn’t have been on the profile as there was no record of a cancellation attempt on this policy. Therefore, Muzi had no business looking at Vydra’s profile, unless … he too was involved. She knew he was friendly with Roxanne, but she struggled to believe that Muzi would be caught up in this kind of fraud. Yet the evidence did not lie. There was his name, where it shouldn’t be. She sat back in her seat and stared at the screen. Her mind connected the dots. It was a syndicate, involving Hofmeyr, Lamprecht and Mofokeng, led by Vydra. And that was who she really wanted: Vydra. She couldn’t care less about the others. She just wanted to get Vydra. Hofmeyr had gone awol and Lamprecht had proved herself strong enough to withstand her interrogation. But Muzi wouldn’t be. He was a pathetic boy, a boy she knew she could break and get to implicate Vydra. She smelt that manure again and gritted her teeth in anger.
Yara worked fast on her computer. First she located and wrote down Muzi’s residential address from his HR file. Next she retrieved her car keys from her desk drawer. She vowed to break him that night.
Extracted from Deadly Benefits by Kurt Ellis, out now.
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