Kat puts the envelope with mysterious markings down. She composes herself, regains her cool demeanour.
But Posmeester is worried: “I recognise those markings. I’ve seen them before, in a museum … It’s from the mob in Iceland, isn’t it? The one run by the elves?”
Kat nods slowly. “That’s right. They’re called The Hidden People. And a long time ago, I managed to … well, let’s just say they don’t like me much.”
“Open it!” exclaims Posmeester. “We have to know if it’s a threat!”
Kat shakes her head. “I already know what it says. They’ve found out where I live. They’ll say I can go see them, to ‘sort things out’, or … they will come and find me.”
“Will that put the rest of us in danger?” asks Posmeester.
Kat shrugs. “Possibly. But it might be even more dangerous for me to go up there. Those elves don’t take kindly to … traitors.”
Posmeester gasps. “Traitors?! What on earth did you do to them?”
Kat sits down in a nearby leather chair. She taps her fingers on the armrests – trying to remember the details and condense the story for Posmeester. “I went on a date with their leader, while I was wearing a wire … for the leader of the Greenland mafia.”
Again, Posmeester gasps. “Not Arnakuagsak, the Mother of the Sea?!”
“Indeed!” exclaims Kat. “I took a break from Iceland to visit Greenland. There, in Nuuk, I became enamoured with a beautiful young jazz pianist. Over a glass of Sauvignon Blanc, I told him that I had become quite close with the Elves of Iceland. And that I would soon be dining with their leader.”
Kat sighs, engulfed by the memory. “We went dancing that night, but it turned out … He was an agent working for Arnakuagsak. He must have fixed the wire into my handbag while I wasn’t looking.”
“Wow,” says Posmeester, after a beat. “I’m guessing the elves found it, and realised what it was?”
Kat simply nods. “I would never betray them on purpose, of course. But they refused to listen, so I did something I never do: I fled.”
Posmeester nods, taking it all in. “What are you going to do?”
Kat gets up and walks to the stoep. She stares out over the farmlands – she doesn’t have an answer yet …