Ramsamy drove back to the office and parked in the downstairs basement. He was in too much of a rush to wait for the lift, so he raced up the stairs three at a time, the red hearts on his lucky socks flashing in front of him as his trouser legs rode up on the steep climb.
Monyane was waiting in Reception. When he heard Ramsamy’s footsteps pounding up the stairs, he hurried over.
‘How is everything at home?’ he asked. ‘Is your family all right?’
Ramsamy nodded without speaking. The stairs had left him breathless. Twenty years ago, he could have climbed the stairs of any building you cared to name. The Highpoint building in Hillbrow, all twenty-eight floors. The famous round tower of Ponte, which he remembered as being over fifty floors. Hell, even the Carlton Centre building – over two hundred metres high, it was the tallest building in Africa.
He needed more exercise, less time spent wedged behind his desk eating Shireen’s delicious but fattening packed lunches. When all this hard work was over, he’d renew his gym membership.
Except Ramsamy knew that when the deal was signed later this afternoon, the hard work would really begin. He’d be so busy he probably wouldn’t see the inside of a gym for another decade.
He waited for his hammering heart to slow. Speaking in short sentences would be possible, he hoped.
‘My family is fine,’ he said. Deep breath. ‘Shocked, but unhurt.’ Another breath. ‘How are we doing for time?’
‘I’ve just brought Dutton and Powles from the hotel. They’ve already gone upstairs. They should be in the boardroom by now, waiting to get started.’
‘And the teams?’
‘Standing by and ready to go.’
‘Good. I must just have a quick word with Ms Anderson. I’ll see you outside in five minutes.’ Ramsamy paused. ‘No need to tell our guests why I had to rush off this morning. Not the right time for that sort of talk.’
‘I agree.’ Monyane nodded, his expression serious. ‘Today is all about good news.’
Anderson was at her desk, tugging at the green silk scarf around her neck, and chewing on one of her blue-manicured nails.
After he’d reassured her that his family was fine, he asked about the route assignments.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, tears welling in her eyes. ‘I didn’t manage to override the system.’
Ramsamy’s heart sank. ‘It’s not a problem,’ he said. He knew it was, but her obvious distress was apology enough.
‘What went wrong?’
‘The two guys from the UK were standing right here watching me, asking questions about how it all worked. There was no way I could get Pretorius allocated to another team, not without one of them noticing that I was doing something funny.’
Ramsamy hastened to console her. ‘You made a sensible decision,’ he said. ‘With the visitors watching, even I couldn’t have changed the systems. Remember, we have no proof that Pretorius is untrustworthy. All we have is a feeling. We’ll just have to hope that today, our intuition is wrong.’
‘Should I get his file? Have a look? Check his last lie-detector test?’
Ramsamy considered. ‘Only if you have the time. But don’t sacrifice any urgent tasks. Either way, we’ll call him in tomorrow or the next day and do a thorough evaluation.’
Out in the courtyard, Ramsamy’s misgivings were temporarily dispelled. He felt a surge of pride as he saw the teams of guards, neatly uniformed, standing to attention in groups of four next to the transit vehicles.
And what vehicles they were! Pristine white, with the company logo emblazoned in blue and green on the front doors, they looked more like armoured trucks than cars. Double reinforced, bulletproof windows. Gun systems similar to those found on tanks. Burst-proof tyres. Reinforced bodywork and enhanced stability on the road. A camera system that recorded all footage of vehicles in front and behind. And two other innovations that Ramsamy and Monyane had insisted on – fireproof paint throughout, and a special safety petrol-tank system that meant the fuel line would be automatically sealed off if an accident occurred.
Other guards manned backup cars that could be dispatched wherever necessary or be used as added security when one of the vans had to take a long route where they would be exposed and vulnerable.
Ramsamy heard the two guests making small sounds of surprise and approval as they gazed at the impressive sight.
‘Our guards are highly trained in the use of weapons, hand-to-hand combat and evasive driving techniques,’ Monyane told the two visitors. ‘They are paid well above industry standards and they are extremely loyal.
‘We’re aware of the possibility of men being threatened or coerced by individuals from a cash-in-transit robbery gang, and because of this, we have recently made it compulsory, and common knowledge, that every man undergoes a monthly polygraph test. In addition, of course, our systems do not allow any of the men to know which vehicle they will be assigned to, or which route they will take, until the start of their working day. And no cellphones are permitted on duty, because we know how they can be misused. The men in the vehicles can only communicate via the internal radio system which connects to our office.’
Ramsamy glanced over at the groups of guards. Pretorius had been assigned to vehicle number 3. A cold knot of worry tightened inside him. None of the most experienced guards were standing in that group. Not one of them.
As Ramsamy looked in his direction, Pretorius turned and met his gaze. He felt a sudden chill as he saw the man’s confident stare. It seemed as if Pretorius was challenging him.
Let him not cause any trouble, the businessman prayed. Let today, just today, go smoothly.
He turned back to his guests.
‘So, gentlemen, this morning’s route will take each of these vehicles to five or six different destinations, and we’d like to invite you to ride along. That way, you’ll see for yourself how our processes work and how our drivers are briefed. One of our cars will be making the special pickup at the airport today, but even I don’t know which one it will be.’ He grinned. ‘If you’d like to ride together you can, but we’d prefer that you choose separate vehicles because space is limited, and it’ll be more comfortable for you.’
Powles and Dutton exchanged a glance. Powles laughed nervously.
‘This should be fun,’ he said. He walked over to the nearest car. Vehicle number 6.
The driver shook his hand, and then helped the grey-suited businessman up into the small seat behind the driver’s.
Dutton laughed, too. ‘Am I allowed to keep my phone on me?’
‘Of course,’ Monyane spread his hands in polite assent.
Dutton walked down the row of vehicles all the way to number 1. Then he walked back again and stopped at car 3. Ramsamy’s heart stopped, too, as he saw Pretorius turn and stare at the Englishman with a triumphant expression. Then Dutton exchanged a glance with the driver of car number 4, and walked a few steps further.
‘I’ll come with you, if I may,’ he said.
‘With pleasure, sir.’ The uniformed man greeted him.
Ramsamy took a deep breath.
‘I’ll also be riding with the fleet today,’ he said.
Monyane turned to him, surprised. ‘You, too?’
Ramsamy nodded. ‘I’ll be back in time for the flight. And I’ll stay in touch with the office via my cellphone.’
He turned to Anderson, who’d just appeared at the door. ‘You can carry on with that admin we discussed earlier,’ he said. He hoped she would understand what he meant, that he wanted her to double-check the results from Pretorius’s most recent polygraph.
Then he walked briskly down the line of cars and, offering up a short and silent prayer, stopped in front of vehicle number 3 and shook the driver’s hand.