(SA) Terror At Twin Peaks

Tonight we tell you the story of Terror at Twin Peaks by Ron Evans. Tom Peterson and I own his small hotel and a small town on the fringe of the Caliari Desert. I wasn't always an hotel, O'Nello. Most of my life has been spent out in the endless waste of sand.

I look for diamonds, gold or anything else that could make money. Yes, I did make money, which is how I came to own this hotel. It ain't such a pretty story that I'm gonna tell you, but I'm sure there must be a moral any somewhere.

It was this time last year that a young couple walked into the hotel lounge. She was a sweet kid. But if you can't say... Can't say I liked his arrogant manner. Tell me, are you the owner of this place?

I am. Can I help you? You certainly can. We're looking for a man called Sam Koka. He's a prospector, I'm told. He was recommended to us as a man who knows this part of the Calahari better than anybody else.

Next to me that is. Yes, sounds an old friend and rival of mine. A rival? We were both prospectors until a few years ago. Nowadays, Sam makes a living by taking out tourists, photographers and film crews into the desert as a guide, sort of.

Now that's what we want them for. Now would you kind of tell me where we can find him? He'll give you five, so I think if you stay here for a few minutes he'll be in.

Afternoons he comes, yeah. We have a sundown or two and play cards. We play poker and I usually win. For Sam's a lousy player. You know, he struck it rich once and gambled most of it away.