THE MAN WHO KNEW TOO MUCH

Chapter 6: The Man Who Knew Too Much

Thabo stopped a few steps away from Naledi.

His eyes moved briefly towards the road before returning to her face.

“Who were you talking to?” he repeated.

Naledi forced herself to smile.

“Nobody important.”

“Interesting. You looked rather upset for someone having an unimportant conversation.”

“I was asking for directions.”

“Directions?”

“Yes, Thabo. Is that a crime now?”

He studied her for a moment.

Then he smiled.

It was the same smile that had once made her feel safe. The same smile that had convinced her she had married a man who would never hurt her.

Now, she wondered how much of it had been an act.

“Come,” he said, reaching for her handbag. “Let’s go home.”

“I can drive myself.”

“I didn’t ask whether you could.”

His voice remained gentle, but something underneath it had changed.

Naledi held on to her handbag.

“Thabo, I’m perfectly capable of driving.”

He looked at her hand gripping the bag, then slowly released his own.

“Of course you are, darling.”

He stepped aside.

“Follow me.”

Naledi watched him walk towards his vehicle.

For the first time in their marriage, she was afraid of being alone with her husband.

The drive home was painfully quiet.

Thabo drove ahead of her, occasionally checking his rear-view mirror to make sure she was following.

At the first traffic light, Naledi’s phone vibrated.

She glanced down.

UNKNOWN NUMBER.

UNKNOWN: Did you give him the letter?

Her heart skipped.

She quickly turned the screen off.

Another message followed.

UNKNOWN: Whatever happens, do not let him know you have it.

Naledi looked towards Thabo’s vehicle.

He was watching her through his mirror.

She placed the phone inside her handbag.

When they arrived home, Thabo parked in the driveway and waited for her.

“Come inside,” he said.

“I need to make a phone call.”

“Who are you calling?”

“My lawyer.”

His expression changed.

“Your lawyer?”

“Yes.”

He laughed quietly.

“Naledi, what exactly is happening to you?”

She stepped out of the car.

“I’m beginning to think I don’t know my husband.”

For several seconds, neither spoke.

Then Thabo walked towards her.

“Be careful, Naledi. Sometimes the things we think we want to know are better left buried.”

He entered the house.

Naledi remained outside.

She finally understood something.

Thabo wasn’t surprised that she was looking for Zinhle.

He was afraid of what she might find.

That afternoon, Naledi waited until Thabo left for another meeting before going into his study.

She had entered that room thousands of times. It contained his business documents, expensive watches, framed photographs and the awards he proudly displayed.

Everything was perfectly organised.

Almost obsessively so.

She approached his desk and opened the top drawer.

Nothing unusual.

The second drawer contained stationery and several folders.

The third was locked.

Naledi frowned.

She knew Thabo kept a spare key somewhere in the study. Years earlier, she had watched him hide it behind a framed photograph of their wedding.

She removed the photograph.

The key was still there.

Her fingers trembled as she unlocked the drawer.

Inside were several documents, an old mobile phone and a brown envelope.

She picked up the envelope.

Written across it was a date.

14 AUGUST — SEVEN YEARS AGO.

Naledi felt the room tilt.

That was the date Zinhle had disappeared.

She opened the envelope.

Inside were printed photographs.

The first showed Zinhle entering a hospital.

The second showed her sitting in a wheelchair.

The third made Naledi’s stomach tighten.

Thabo was standing beside her.

He was wearing the same dark suit she remembered him wearing at Zinhle’s funeral.

Naledi turned the photograph over.

There was handwriting on the back.

She remembers everything.

Naledi covered her mouth.

Who had written that?

And what exactly was Zinhle supposed to remember?

She placed the photographs back into the envelope and reached for the old mobile phone.

It was switched off.

She pressed the power button.

Nothing happened.

She searched the drawer for a charger and found one beneath the documents.

A few seconds later, the phone came alive.

There was no password.

The message application opened.

Naledi scrolled through the old conversations.

Most had been deleted.

But one conversation remained.

The contact was saved under a single letter.

M.

She opened it.

The messages were dated seven years earlier.

M: Is she awake?

THABO: Not yet.

M: What happens when she remembers?

THABO: Then we have a problem.

M: And Naledi?

THABO: She must never find out.

Naledi felt sick.

She read the messages again.

Then she noticed one final message.

It had been sent at 23:16.

M: You promised she would never see her sister again.

THABO: I kept my promise. Now keep yours.

Naledi dropped the phone onto the desk.

A floorboard creaked behind her.

She spun around.

Nobody.

But the study door was slightly open.

She was certain she had closed it.

Naledi returned everything to its original position and left the study.

She went upstairs, locked herself in the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed.

Her mind was racing.

M.

Who was M?

And why had Thabo been communicating with someone about her sister on the night she disappeared?

Her phone vibrated.

A photograph appeared on the screen.

It showed the same hospital corridor she had seen in Thabo’s envelope.

But this photograph was different.

It showed three people.

Thabo.

Zinhle.

And a third person standing near the hospital entrance.

Naledi zoomed in.

Her breath caught.

The third person was Detective Maseko.

She stared at the image.

Why had Maseko never mentioned knowing Thabo?

Why had he allowed her to believe he was helping her investigate Zinhle’s disappearance?

Another message arrived.

UNKNOWN: You are asking the wrong questions.

NALEDI: Who is M?

UNKNOWN: Look at the photograph again.

Naledi enlarged the image.

This time, she noticed something in the detective’s hand.

A small hospital file.

Written across the front were two names.

ZINHLE MOKOENA.

And beneath it:

NALEDI MOKOENA.

Her blood ran cold.

Why was her name on a hospital file from the night her sister disappeared?

She typed another message.

NALEDI: What happened that night?

The reply came almost immediately.

UNKNOWN: You really don’t remember, do you?

Naledi stared at the screen.

Before she could respond, a voice came from the bedroom doorway.

“What don’t you remember, darling?”

She nearly dropped her phone.

Thabo stood there.

His tie was loosened, and his jacket hung over one arm.

He looked tired.

Ordinary.

Like a husband returning home after a long day.

But his eyes were fixed on her phone.

Naledi quickly locked the screen.

“Nothing.”

Thabo walked into the bedroom.

He sat beside her and gently brushed a strand of hair away from her face.

“You’ve been behaving strangely today.”

“I’ve had a lot on my mind.”

“I know.”

He kissed her forehead.

Then he looked directly into her eyes.

“Have you been going through my things?”

Naledi’s heart began to pound.

“No.”

He remained silent.

Then he reached into his jacket pocket and removed something.

A photograph.

He placed it on the bed between them.

Naledi recognised it immediately.

It was the photograph of Thabo, Zinhle and Detective Maseko outside the hospital.

Her mouth went dry.

Thabo watched her reaction.

“Now,” he whispered, “perhaps we should finally talk about your sister.”

Naledi looked at him.

“What happened to Zinhle?”

Thabo leaned closer.

“That’s not the question you should be asking.”

He paused.

Then he said something that made her entire body go cold.

“Ask yourself why your sister was so desperate to protect you.”

END OF CHAPTER 6