Free The Colour of Gold by Oliver T Spedding Page A

by their employers. The items that
Isaiah stole were small items such as a pack of cigarettes, a can
of beer, sweets, the odd vegetable and single cans of food. These
he easily sold to the other inhabitants in the room where he lived
or used himself, and nobody asked any questions.
    After Isaiah
had been working in Hillbrow for almost two weeks one of his fellow
“illegals” named Steve approached as he walked home one
evening.
    “Isaiah,” Steve
said, “would you be interested in making some extra money? I have
an idea but I can’t do it on my own. I need an accomplice. There’s
some risk attached but if we are careful we won’t be caught. It’s
worth at least a hundred Rand to each of us.”
    “A hundred
Rand!” Isaiah exclaimed. “I’m very interested. Tell me more.”
    “Okay.” Steve
said. “We often have to load trucks with boxes of liquor from the
liquor storeroom in Catherine Street which is right next to that
alley that is often filled with empty boxes and other rubbish. What
we need to do is get an empty Black Label Whisky box in good
condition from one of the hotels and twelve empty whisky bottles.
We then fill the bottles with water, put them into the Black Label
box and carefully seal the box. We then hide the box under another
empty box in the alley next to the storeroom and while we are
loading boxes of Black Label onto the truck one of us causes a
disturbance and while everyone’s attention is focused on the
disruption the other person quickly swaps a box of Black Label with
the box hidden in the alley. Nobody will find out about the bottles
of water for weeks and there will be no way that it can be traced
back to us.”
    “It might just
work.” Isaiah said. “I’ll think about it.”
    Two days later,
having taken a closer look at the alley next to the liquor
storeroom Isaiah agreed to help Steve carry out his plan. They
toured the bottle stores and hotels and eventually found a Black
Label box in good condition and twelve empty whisky bottles. They
filled the bottles with water, carefully sealed them and with the
correct type of sealing tape, sealed the box. When the area was
deserted the two men practiced switching two boxes so that when the
time came they would be able to carry out the manoeuvre
quickly.
    “Nobody can
possibly see that that box is not a genuine box of Black Label
whisky.” Steve said to Isaiah as they admired their handiwork.
    “You’re right.”
Isaiah replied.
    Steve hid the
fake box of whisky until word spread that a truck was to be loaded
from the liquor storeroom the following day. That night Steve and
Isaiah stealthily hid their box under a larger empty box in the
alley right next to the doorway to the storeroom.
    “While we’re
loading the boxes tomorrow I’ll pretend to faint when I see you
coming out of the storeroom with a box of Black Label. Then, when
everyone rushes to help me, you quickly swap the box you’re
carrying with the one hidden in the alley. Nobody will see you as
they’ll all be looking at me. It’s as easy as that!” Steve
said.
    Isaiah nodded
enthusiastically.
    The following
morning Steve and Isaiah were amongst the group of workers hired to
load the liquor. The work began and, as planned, Steve suddenly
collapsed onto the pavement just as Isaiah approached the doorway
of the storeroom carrying a box of Black Label. Everyone rushed to
help Steve and Isaiah moved swiftly to the large box in the alley,
lifted it and swapped the box he had been carrying with the fake
box hidden there. He turned with the fake box in his hands, seeing
that all the other workers were crowded around Steve lying on the
pavement. He began to move out of the alley. A sixth sense made him
look towards the door of the storeroom. Standing in the doorway and
staring at Isaiah with a grim smile on his face was the owner of
the storeroom.
    “What are you
doing, my boy?” the man said as he walked towards Isaiah. “Let me
look at that box.”
    Isaiah’s
shoulders