Mystery of ''Who killed Kenny''

                                Detective Hondo Journals: Mystery of 'Who killed Kenny'



                                                        By Danayi Phillip Murodza





Another beast burst gates open and galloped towards his cape, awing the crowds.

He leaped over it. Grabbed its horns and was tossed off into air. His spin jerked him off to a haystack. Fingers caressed the sand as he quickly raised his head. Fernando stood up. Chest thrust forward and shoulders straightened; torso assuring readiness.

None had anticipated his survival to the last round after the paseillo.

'Come get me,' he muttered under his breath.

It stood only meters away; eyes glinting, hooves renting a small cloud of dust. His swift dagger throws strained a hip. The bull staggered forth, huffing and puffing steam out of its nostrils,

''Aa-hai, aaaa-hai ... hai ...'

He urged it towards him in wild grunts.

The matador ducked sideways .Its horns pierced through the wooden boundary. And the creature was stuck.  He dipped his sword into its breast wilding the arena.  Its last kicks of despair were at his ruthless twist. Roses and violets showered everywhere as all sprang up for applause.



''Bloody hell, that's above my huckleberry! ,''I said, ''who would threaten such a macho?''

'You'd be surprised my dear boy,' uncle coolly responded, 'you'd be surprised.'

The intention of our secret visit at Cerritos was to interrogate him. Fernando Cleveland was being held at check by the same people who murdered Kenny at Umhlanga beach's surfing tournament: - the goons who framed me for manslaughter. We needed clues on my friend's mysterious death to clear my name.

''Maybe we should meet him later at the dressing room''

''Let's just hit the nail on the head whilst the memory is fresh lad,'' Rashid said pointing at him.

The bronco buster was already walking towards us, in a golden costume, still waving a bandana.

******************

Suddenly a shot showered upon all, an element of shock fused with momentary silence. Outbursts of cries had then followed .The bang brought them on fours and the next rounds glued them to their spots.

I got up. Shot back at the marksman who fled the stands. His trail knocked down several ice cream and hotdog carts despite countless people.

'Take the Northern exit!' Rashid barked the order.

I reached a parking lot only to duck the villain's speedy bike .I hit its rim with a tracker. Rushing off to Rashid's car was useless; it blew up to bits and pieces. My hot pursuit was officially terminated.

My uncle on other hand found our client wounded. Cleveland only managed to gasp, '...Dragon-Hall Lord...Barker! , find him' before medics tucked him into an ambulance. Fortunately Russy had pulled out a note from the patient's pocket.



Hordes of terrified spectators filtered out of the stadium. Firemen rolled into action. I was about to stand when I felt being pressed down.

''No escape this time around cowboy; you've done enough wakin' snakes''

Cuffs clinked behind my back. The cops had caught up with me again. That bastard must've tipped them off. It all flooded into thought, the eve of my predicament, as they forced me into a dark van.

******************

The hotdog aroma then, had forced my jaws apart. My 'winding' tongue dripped saliva. I was tempted to revisit Spurs for another snack.

The Gillette World surfing finals were on .All Regional surfing gurus where here. We all had had enough of news agents and their nerve wrecking questions like;

''Chris, are you confident you will get there first? ''

''Do you have a girlfriend?''

''If you win, will you marry her ...what do you intend to do with the diamond ...huh, buy a Caribbean island?''

The chorus had continued since yesterday's qualifying rounds. Before another, I put my shades on and pushed the blokes aside for a jog around.

Women massaged each other with ointments. Their husbands dozed off; fat noses under newspapers. Antiques were for sale. A ballerina showed off her fusion of Samba and bale. Hovering the waters were lifeguards. Helicopters swept around like flies. The romance chemistry was still brewing on the beach. Earlier lifeguards had placed gay right activists under arrest for marching into interrupt the event .I had seen it all from my hotel room.

As I reached the arena one thought came to focus......'riding the waves'

The prize was a black diamond, courtesy of the African Diamond Mining Association (ADMA) based in Congo .Probably a strategy of drawing investment potential.

''...you could buy a yacht for a crib Val .., that's what!''

''...or Branson's Necker ...we've been sweating all season for this''

The Hawaiian cousins went on like the rest. Each one of the twenty seemed anxious. The challenge was a venture to Rockie (an artificial island designed by N.A.S.A) collecting hooks.

'All surfass to da startin point!'

A foreign accent at the main stage shouted lungs out. In his left hand, a shiny pistol pierced the air ready to erupt into a bang .We were just getting our turbo-boards warmed up. People had crowded around to see the latest battery powered gizmos.

We jogged about nervously waiting for the signalling flare. That is when I got a glimpse of Fernando's half brother Kennedy waving back at the line up.

I had met Cleveland abroad in my college days and become cohorts .We used to fight out of pubs after denying payments. I also recall his crooked addiction for cannabis which tore us apart. I never knew what he grew up into...

******************

A bang erupted and I came back to my senses. All were flat on boards now. A wave emerged and many stood to cascade towards Rockie. With arms stretched out, I navigated my 'Arctic Saucer'. It was encouraging to see some swept away.

Turning my head upwards later made me notice a helicopter circling the sky. A man bellowed what all seemed to be gibberish on a megaphone. Something must've been wrong. Surfers were abandoning the chase. Each climbed up a ladder to the chopper. Blood flooded the sea water. It must've been sharks.

To my surprise when I arrived, Valentino was already on Rockie. He struggled for breathe as huge biceps bruised his neck .A spear was stuck to his chest. He gasped in agony before a masked murderer.

My dash off to his rescue was short lived .Before l knew it, my knees hit the ground .I looked at my backside to find a dart before falling unconscious.

'Clee......, Clev...,'I heard whispers before blacking out.

This is as far as the legs of my memory can jog.

******************

Now there stood the sternest and ugliest facial ever .Old, freckled and wrinkled. It was as if a comic had finally managed to sketch a shaved Yeti.

Her gown mismatched the ox-blood stand where she clutched a gavel. A jury murmured untimely whispers to her left. The Justice waited for them to negotiate before a verdict. The aroma of ink bleeding on paper gave the hall an administrative feel.

The court buzzed with anxiety. Multitudes sat on benches: ready to applause my obvious sentence. A clerk punched in proceedings on a type writer; I could hear its clinking. It was an hour after standing ovation for Khumalo; the most wrinkled judge in history.

Sweat trickled out off every nook of my body. I could feel my blood boiling. The atmosphere was so tense; one could've sliced it with a machete.

'Silence!' bellowed a bailiff.

The court gained a graveyard; silent and serious.

My lawyer sat opposite a former attorney, the prosecutor's client .He was just a Harvard boy, a freshman in law that offered me probono. It echoed in the vortex of my thoughts, 'Christopher Hondo you are in hot soup.' It's not every day you get sued for dual manslaughter.

I sat there sporting orange overall, cuffed and eyed eerily like a Bin Laden clone. The somersaults in my belly didn't make it any easier. I was recalled to the witness stand again.

A blonde muse cat walked the platform ready to lay charges...

It all made perfect sense like pieces of the simplest jig-saw puzzle .I had been the only one on the island to witness his death. The one found with a harpoon in his hands with the deceased's blood .The forensics had enough samples of my DNA over his body.

'Is there any other details despite that of insomnia you would like to confess?' she finally quizzed.

A string of obscenities fled my mouth to insight uproar. My brain was haywires; only titbits of memories still hang in there somewhere.

They had chambered me at a local clinic in coma. I awoke chained to a bed with a void of emptiness and terrible hunger, my head was sensationally oozy. How long had I been knocked out, who had paid the bills? A maze of unanswered questions flocked into scope. The television revealed a revelation of shocking news. The carat had been stolen.

'Christopher Hondo a Wolverhampton graduate is being accused of first degree murder. The twenty-three year old, youngest at the Gillette surfing competitions in KZN is still unconscious,' a voice echoed.

'It is suspected he was tranquilised by sportsman Gravois who was found dead, 'the journalist exclaimed , 'Kennedy Cleveland whose clothing was found at sea torn apart by sharks is another casualty. It is not clear whether all this is related to the stolen diamond award.... Jennifer Meyers....SABC news ......back to Skumbuzo,' she finished her impromptu.

The door bust open, nurses had stormed in with loaded syringes. Another character wearing a brown coat was behind them.

''Sedate him'' he calmly ordered.

The last blurs of a drugged patient were his bald head coupled with a bright light. I should've realised they were hidden cameras.

The next thing I knew; I awoke in a body-bag scout free below a bridge. A red Mustang dashed off into the sunset. They must've had me in the trunk. I couldn't see the plates. A chill breeze made me reckon my clothes were off. Damn it, they had left me naked too ...

It all faded away now before the courtroom.

My lawyer who had already objected countless times made my confession seem a cock and bull story. Before the gavel stroke, l pissed my pants, started exaggerating a series of fits and the saliva bubbling effects of nausea.

''Bailiff, take him to the bathroom, call paramedics! ,'' Justice Khumalo screamed in disgust, ''don't let him out of sight till a sentence.''

''Court resumes in five ''

Someone picked me up, slide my body on his shoulder and retreated off with journalists swarming around. Guards angrily suppressed pressure.

No sooner had he locked the door shut, was he greeted by a depressing blow on his forehead. I had snatched a baton from his side. It now dripped blood. Bullets smashed windows down five minutes before another door blast open. I wasn't far off waiting for the havoc to ease.

I had crept into the court's ventilation. Patiently waited for the search party to be misguided by my bait .Smashed windows were a decoy, they had to think my retreat was facilitated by the exit .This explains why 'cops' were probably scavenging the streets.

I descended down a vent into a washing room... knocked down a laundry guy. I left him cuffed and stuffed up with a wig in his mouth .Dressed up in his clothes. Drove off a truck into an alley were my disguises as a beggar thrived before finally escaping conviction.

******************

Just standing there hammering at his door made me realize Sahara without doubt must've been hell's twin. The summer heat blazed that hot .My lips were dry and salty. I protruded my tongue to lick them wet .Nocturnal Rashid must've been dead asleep as recurring knocks bombarded his door.

Resuming steps back, I heard rattling keys behind it. I expected to see a thick moustache behind a grim face. Instead a blonde bimbo strolled out in a gown and stilettos .My jaws dropped to realize uncle still bedded beauties way out of his league. He stood there puffing cigarettes with a battle of Vodka in the opposite hand .The dark haired ex-Scorpion agent just blankly stared back.

''I was afraid you didn't make it out at the rodeo.''

''Humm huh ....'' he yawned. 

''You old scam''

Uncle must've been half asleep. Behind him the vivid view of the smallest junkyard stood .Pizza boxes with slimy moulds were packed in a corner with empty beer cans .Mice could be seen nibbling up tit bits of sneaks' .Two or three panties could be seen from the doorway.

''Get in coloured boy, change your clothes and dye your hair!'' he finally bellowed.

He screwed his good eye into surveillance before locking the door.

''Check the frizzier for food,'' he said going up the stairs.

Russy had started a private eye operation years after retirement in pursuit of adventure. Crowned knight by a Maharajah on the eve of solving ivory smuggling cases, my uncle also had a black cross nailed to the wall for rescuing some queen from a sniper's bullet. Beside it was a photo of him with Nelson Mandela, a moment he treasured eternally.

Although popular Barker kept a low profile by creating bogus identities .In Windhoek he was a pastor, in Abuja a gardener, in Somalia a pirate and the list goes on .My mother's younger brother was everywhere he smelt a rat.

Scouting around his stuffy office desk were passports, wigs and make-up. They were journals and other people's diaries on cabinets' .A dusty family photo stood on top.

'What took you so long?' he quizzed, 'you are a detective!'

He had dressed into a suit beaming better than his earlier rock star version.

'We must leave now, 'Rashid continued turning on the television.

The reward for my capture was now $USD100000.We walked out to his black Subaru .I sat next to him blasting off to kwaito music .We obviously needed a secure location; perhaps a private vault.

******************

An hour later...

Location: Classified

It was as if the genius had just been stroke by Zeus' bolt. His hair simply stood up defying laws of gravity. It was a mixture of white and grey threads attached to a balding scalp like a bunch of zigzagging copper wires attracted to a magnet.

His crazy laughter echoed down the hall. Mlilo marvelled at his latest invention; the 'Distructos'. It was just a globe of electrons ready to disintegrate any circuit within a 5m range. He hadn't fully mastered its capacity.

The short man jumped around to blankly stare as if he had seen a ghost. His freckled face lay behind half-moon spectacles. His taunting innovations had spellbound us for minutes. Electric surges and glitters were everywhere. Mlilo was a modern day Schringer in the burrows of an underground lab.

The scientist was under witness protection from Russian terrorists. Uncle had organised a proper hideout and fake death certificate. He now had a secret identity in South Africa. The two's relationship was a balanced equation .Mlilo invented weapons and Rashid tested them. Lately he had been working on time reversal hypotheses.

''Reverse treads of chromatograph back to 18/09/11; relocate Eagle 3 (satellite) to project co-ordinates on screen,'' Rashid barked before locking me in a cubicle. Flashes of neon light emerged. I could no longer feel the time and space quantum.

There I was, stuck in a dimension of the present past...



The masked villain had just stabbed him.... another behind drug shot me...... his swim suit shoulders were folded. I could see initials D.H imprinted as a tattoo on his skin ...they got in a submarine - in flashes..., before the vision was clouded with smoke.

I lay on the floor with a wet blanket next. The simulator had somehow caught fire.

''Dragon Hall,'' I gasped, ''we must find...aarg...aaaargg'' I coughed before continuing,

''...find Dragon Hall!''

******************

Smoke filmed the office. He puffed out yet another cloudy breathe .The plump cigar lay in-between his middle and pointer fingers. The index damped remains in an ash tray. He gazed at the window viewing the city at a bird's eye view.

The cocaine operation had ravaged it. His gangs were in every alley .His arms were selling like cupcakes, clubs filled with exotic dancers. He ran everything, including this damn skyscraper.  Pablo wasn't an informant, he owned the police.

I closed the door behind my back and he swung his chair around. I dropped the delivery on the table. The Mafioso straightened his expensive suit, brushed his thick beard and opened the briefcase. The greenish bricks were crispy fresh .It must've been thousands. Pablo gave a morose smile holding a bunch.

''I was beginning to sense defiance in the area of tax son,'' he said.

''After last week's hit, no one dared refuse to pay sir''

''Off course, six heads in a paper bag must've shaken the living daylights out of them,'' he grinned.

The Latino bald head was a notorious gangster. For every criminal ducat open on the continent, it was believed he was somehow involved. His hideouts and warehouses were classified. He thought highly of himself and told tales of smuggling submarines of heroin to Columbia and opium in China. His tracks were spotless. Witnesses always winded up dead.

''Well done boy, you have proved your worth,'' he howled, ''are you ready for phase two?''

''Yeah boss,'' I replied, ''I managed to hack the bank system without raising eyebrows; all we need is a pick up.''

''Okay Poncho, gather Scorpio, Leo and rest of the pack...give them the electronic blueprints.''

He turned his back to the office again to face his empire. In half an hour, he would be jetting away to avoid suspicion of his involvement. Quite unfortunate, I had recorded the conversation and took his map too...the map with every drug den....the map with Dragon Hall's location.

It had been two hard weeks of hustling on the block to be one of the 'boys'. The tracker on the bike had uprooted our villain's final location as this building. I sneaked into the drug business to trickle Pablo's nose. My I.T expertise was a big bonus. One way or the other, the 263 gang would hook us up to whatever was Dragon Hall. I was working undercover, had discovered its location but still had to deal with this lot.

We sat in the boardroom drinking like camels and smoking like chimneys. Poker chips were getting lesser. Our escorts only clad lingerie, kept our spirits calm and the deck attended. Like any common outlaws, we gambled reminiscing of mission successes.

Everyone had a print now. The strategy needed revision. Our female company left the room at Leo's snap. Tonight we would rob a bank. It was time to massacre the loop holes on paper. Our Beijing conglomerates would await the loot at the docks. Pablo had handed artillery and left for an early flight.

''There is a 5% extra in it for you boys, if you get the job done''

The boss even kissed us on the foreheads, it wasn't gay; it was like a Jewish way of affection.

Now the electronic blueprints projected a hologram of the building. The ten storey masterpiece hosted 5th and 6th avenues. Alpha was the latest five-star bank in town. It stood granite grey with steel bracing its foundation. Concrete embraced its parameter except for the marble slabs that led to the secured entrance.

''We definitely need a diversion at this point,'' growled Leo pointing at the piece, 'Maddock and Houndpound will use the dynamites...''

Small cameras screwed their gloomy screens from hitcher to thither for surveillance.

''Poncho will gem all signals from the van... and get rid of any intel''

Then the interior was revealed. It was entirely stainless steel silver and furnished with Balinese furniture.

''No calls, no internet access and no alarms should be triggered mate...''

Shiny spheres floated from side to side scanning clients' faces .The robots had lasers.

''Tsotsi, our inside man just loaded us into the database ...don't worry about these little baggers...''

Elevators flashed up from underground to upper levels, encompassed by spiral cases of escalators.

''Scorpio and the kill squad will move in there and grab some hostages...''

''They will be getaway cars at various points since the building has bearings  ...''

We got up, redressed and left the base. In days it was assumed we would reunite to celebrate as hoped. But the only thing that awaited these thugs was jail.

I intended to shut Alpha's systems down whilst they were inside. Mlilo had given the police our live-feeds. There would be no hostages, only cops wearing civilian clothing in the bank. Pablo by now must've been arrested over the tapes.

It was time to get to the bottom of this ...

******************

One could've thought it a hallucination of a Transylvanian classic. Dragon Hall stood behind steel gates creeping with epiphytes. A full moon silhouetted its 'spooky' view .I could've sworn a witch whizzed across it on a tattered broomstick, but knew my eyes were playing tricks. We climbed over its gates.

Our feet led us down a winding tunnel through a faulty trap door .We shouted for dear lives as we split ways cascading into branching directions. I pondered upon a hip of skeletons in a green lantern lit room. Who knew what more 'booby' traps were there. Would we die before revealing Kenny's murderer?

I awoke to challenge the quest .Walked towards a narrow passage with a jetpack strapped on my back. It seemed as if the portraits in this old passage were eying me. No sooner had I stepped a little further an axe came slashing down before my toes. I ducked a volley of whooshing arrows.

Rattling of metal was my next challenge. A whole armour suit launched an attack with a sword in its leather palms. I blazed its hollow body to melting residues with a smelting gun's blaze. It messed up the corridor.

The next door opened revealed a mini library. I set my gun on the chimney for a breather which only rotated into a dark room. Some pulley system reaction: - I assume.

A nasty smell of blood gave a choking aroma. A brazen bull, Spanish donkey, breaking wheel, tongue tearer and breast ripper were some of the antics here. It could've been a dungeon or ancient museum considering the locks and chains.

I realized a nest of tarantulas was creeping upon me. Threw the devils off my trousers .Raced out of the chamber to discover a series of incomplete staircases .A tune of opera invited my descent to a chamber below.

Cries from the passage tempted me to take a peep. Large men bit my uncle's jaws apart .It seemed they knew he hadn't intruded their premises alone. Before another wink, a click petrified me to that spot. My worthless cover was exposed; l stepped in with a gun barrow piercing my ribs.

''You mongrels aren't getting away with it,'' uncle hissed rocking in an armchair besides me.

''And what's going to stop us Pinocchio, ''the masked villain laughed out, ''I'm not Pablo...the fool was just a pawn to my plot.''

There was something about his voice that stroke a nerve. Something familiar; a note I couldn't quite resolve.

''In minutes, l will be off to Switzerland to reunite with the mafia. Someone will definitely want to buy this,'' he said pulling out the diamond.

''You will serve your true virtue,'' he said.

''...which is? ''

''Death,'' he announced, ''the bomb will make it nice and swift.''

He indicated retreat. The party packed and set off with briefcases of the cocaine that had been on the floor. Whoever killed Kenny was about to fry us to death.

Uncle pulled out a blade to cut him-self loose. In a jiffy he set me free too .The digits on the counter were racing.

We ran across a ballroom towards the mansion's balcony. Flames danced after us. I could see windows shattering and walls collapsing behind me. The explosion pushed us against the glass to mid-air. Glass cut my skin; my jacket was on fire...then came in the cold sensation, I thought us dead.

Gasping for breath, l realized we were drowning. We had plunged into a swimming pool. Rashid clapped my cheeks hard to make sure all senses were intact. He briskly drew me out of the cold water.

''Dear boy we're alive, now get up and let's ride,'' he urged, ''there is no time to waste.''

He dragged me towards a camouflaged automobile. It was near the bushes; just over the fence. Its engines were already revving; ready for the chase. Barker stepped on the gas and we hyper-speeded off...

''Narrow escape gentlemen,'' Mlilo's computerized voice sounded, ''sending you co-ordinates of the Dragons.''

''Okay mate''

''They seem to be headed for a private airstrip, calling for backup,'' he said before a small electronic glitch to sign off.

******************

It was obvious the masked assassins were no Tom, Dick or Harry. They displayed a sense of elementary. The robber of the black diamond fed Kenny to the sharks. He murdered Gravois for it .However hiring an assassin for Fernando's head was pointless. This is the only thing that stuck out. I took another glance at the note uncle took from his pocket. I read it silently for the second time in the car:

Fernando

You have exactly 36hrs to transfer $12 000 000 into the account that was mailed to you. We are watching your every move.

The police or any other person's involvement will only get you killed. Remember your brother's death ...well; let's just say disappearance.

We know your wife works at the bank and your little boy's school. It's either your inheritance or family; choose wisely. The clock is ticking.

Dragon-Lord

I folded the evidence for a moment wishing to tire it apart. A Clevelands' conspiracy theory defied logic.

A troop of uniformed arms came into view. The aerodrome was getting nearer .It was obvious these men weren't going to allow a free pass to the hanger. So we took a leap over the road block to intrude. A fleet of customs vehicles tailed us. Uncle drifted to shake them off. By now the aircraft's engines must've started.

We shot towards it. It had then turned into the highway .That is when I pulled out a silvery sphere. Turned on the green button and threw it. Every vehicle within a 15m radius responded with a halt.

''Did it work?'' echoed Mlilo's voice.

''Like a bombshell,'' I said, ''like a bombshell''

We jumped out. Ran towards the private jet .Rashid had clicked a button on his watch to give a field separation between us and the angered authorities.

It was obvious we were outnumbered, and couldn't face them all .We stood there to see the Dragon Lord disembark the plane to remove its  mask .A freckled face cuirassing a brown shock of hair came to view.  The man sporting plaid jacket made our jaws drop apart.

''Why did you do it?'' l said.

''Times are hard, everyone needs money Chris,'' he replied, ''join me and we could conquer world economy.''

''Never, I actually thought you better than this''

''Do not force me to harm your precious little uncle,'' he barked, ''think of all the money you could make!''

''Is that why you attempted to murder your own brother ... for money?''

''The fool isn't my blood, he deserved to die!'' he shouted.

''So you admit your involvement...huh?''

Cleveland just blankly stared back noticing the recorder in Rashid's hand.  It was obvious he murdered Valentino too. He darted me down so that l would be easily framed. This bastard planted a letter in Fernando's pocket to brew up conspiracy theories. It is Pablo's men that stole the diamond on his command. I realised we were all supposed to leave his trail clean at the rodeo. I remember those bluish eyes from the clinic. He is the man I saw in a blur .He also forged my disappearance at the clinic to turn me into a fugitive. This is what he had grown up to be; a ruthless criminal, brains behind a terrorist organization.

''You worthless dog ''

Kenny's mouth cracked open into ridiculous laughter. He seemed too enlightened for a dead man.

'This is the end,' Rashid said releasing the field.

The police had just arrived. We dodged for cover as gunshots sounded. They too had worked out the criminal arithmetic behind his fake death. Gunplay had come into action. In minutes dead bodies were everywhere.

Cleveland was about to dash into the plane when he got one on the knee .Rashid raced off to cuff him but he pulled out a gun and two shots echoed.

Barker fell to the ground. Cleveland coughed out blood. He rolled from the steps to fall dead .It seemed the bullet intended for my uncle missed. I should know ... I made sure of it.

Rashid awoke from the 'dead' in shock. It was all over now. We would no longer run away from the cops.

My heart throbbed at the look of Kenny's corpse. No one needed to ask his maker anymore, because l killed Kenny.



THE END