Water Music

by Margie Orford

  Explain to me, said Clare.

  Business, he said. It was all business. She knew what shed get out of it.

  Tell me what she got out of this.

  She had her price, he said. Fifteen thousand fucking rand.

  Who paid the money? asked Clare.

  Im not at liberty to say.

  You wont be at liberty until you do say, said Clare.

  Youre not listening to me, lady, said Jonny Diamond. She wanted to do it.

  With all these men?

  It was the deal. She signed.

  Show me.

  Silence.

  Jonny, said Clare, her voice low. Tell me where she is. Well find her. Things will look better for you that way.

  She took her money and she left.

  So where is she now? asked Clare.

  I wish I fucking knew, said Jonny. If I knew Id tell you. Shes nothing to anyone, this little bitch.

  Murder carries a life sentence, said Clare. Even if that means only twenty-five years, the chance of you making it that long isnt very high. Pretty boys who like music dont last that long in prison.

  But I keep telling you. She counted her money, she left.

  Prove it.

  Thats not how it works, said Jonny Diamond. Im innocent until you prove it. Youve got fuck-all on me.

  The judge isnt going to like this tape, said Clare. Especially not the lady judge that well request, and that well get when your bail application comes up.

  Someone will have seen her, he said. She left with it in cash. She had her cello with her. A girl with a cello is hard to miss.

  Whore you covering for, Jonny? asked Clare.

  Well charge him, said Riedwaan, yanking Diamonds collar as he turned to Clare. Leave him in the cells overnight to think about his options. Im sure Chadley Wewers will be glad to discuss terms for Jonny to pay back what he owes for the tik he took on HP.

  Fuck this shit, I dont know what youre talking about, said Jonny.

  I checked Wewerss phone records, said Riedwaan. Looks like you two are thick with one another.

  Jonnys fists bunched, and Riedwaan cuffed him.

  Fuck you both, he shouted, ignoring the curious patrons at the door.

  Jonny, just tell us who youre working for, said Clare. You dont need to take the rap. She scrolled through the clip again, found the frame where the mans neck was in focus.

  This man works up at the castle, said Clare. He drove me through yesterday. This scar, theres no mistaking it. You want to sit in jail for him?

  He held her gaze for a moment, then his eyes dropped to his lap.

  Mr Savić wanted her. I took her up there, he said, his swagger suddenly gone.

  Savić, said Riedwaan.

  Hes the money behind the music college. Behind the scholarships. This was his pound of flesh.

  At least you know your Shakespeare, said Clare.

  So I can go now? asked Jonny Diamond. It wasnt me.

  Theres no rush. You can relax in the cells for a bit. Weve got till Monday to decide, said Riedwaan. You shout for the constable if theres anything else you remember.

  All I did was see to the lighting and the sound, he whined. Then he growled like the dog he was: It was Lily who set it up. She was meant to take her home. You should ask her where your precious Rosa is.

  46

  It was already dark when they drove out of the police station. Clare gulped in the cold air. The paperwork was done, and Jonny Diamond was sitting with his head in his hands, alone in a cell. Riedwaan hooted as an ambulance swerved in front, its lights bleeding red as it sped through the rain.

  Clare dialled Alfred Wagners number. He answered im mediately.

  Hello, anything you need, Dr Hart? the old man asked.

  Im tracking Rosas movements on the Friday night, said Clare. The night she was last seen. We may have a sighting.

  You mean someone saw Rosa? The cadence of hope. Who was it that saw her?

  She did a performance, Clare offered him the euphemism this was not the time for the truth. At a house in Hout Bay. It belongs to a man called Milan Savić a big place, looks like a castle. Do you perhaps know Mr Savić?

  I know the name, said Wagner. I believe hes one of the bene factors at the college.

  Did any money arrive for you?

  No. Nothing. Why are you asking this, Dr Hart? Whats it got to do with Rosa?

  I cant say right now. Ill phone you as soon as I know more. Clare ended the call.

  No money? asked Riedwaan.

  Nothing.

  Weve got till tomorrow morning, when the court opens, said Riedwaan. If theres no charges theyll be released. And Ive got to catch that plane up to the mines, first thing.

  Clare ignored the tightening in her belly.

  Thats tomorrow, she said. Right now, though, I want to pay Lily a call. Shes up at that castle Milan Savić bought.

  Savić, said Riedwaan. I saw him on TV, talking about security issues, shit like that.

  The latest Hout Bay philanthropist, said Clare. Patron of the arts too.

  Thats not where I know the name, said Riedwaan. Ive heard him linked to other things.

  Here in Cape Town?

  No, he said. Stuff up in Joburg. Savić has kept under the radar here. Ive got someone who can tell me. If he doesnt know anything about him, then Savić is clean.

  A cop? asked Clare.

  Ex, said Riedwaan. We started off in Vice, then moved to Narcotics. We owe each other favours. Youve met him. Cyril Jarvis. Ex-boxer, ex-cop, currently a personal security expert. One-time Joburg club scene expert too.

  The tarmac was slippery where the mud had washed off the mountainside. Riedwaan pulled over, dialled.

  His eyes crinkled at the sound of the voice at the other end.

  Jarvis. Long time. He put the call on speaker for Clare to listen.

  Faizal, fuck you, said Jarvis.

  I feel the love, said Riedwaan.

  You interrupted me, you motherfucker, said Jarvis, and this is one I dont even have to pay for. Hey, this isnt on video link is it?

  You naked, Jarvis? asked Riedwaan. Thats ugly, even without the pictures. Theres a lady present.

  The sound of a door shutting and a brief silence.

  Clare, howzit, doll, said Jarvis.

  Hello, said Clare. Dyou know someone called Milan Savić, hes got a big muscle boy?

  Ugly fucker. Scarred neck?

  Thats the one, said Clare.

  Names Mikey. You want my advice? said Cyril Jarvis. Traffic in the background.

  Im obviously going to get it, said Riedwaan. Whether I want it or not.

  Whatever you do, keep it low key, said Jarvis. I heard he bought a couple of your bosses.

  Who told you that?

  I hear things, said Jarvis.

  You got names?

  Cops are so cheap, Faizal. Its like shopping at Makro. You buy one, you get one free.

  Give me a name, said Riedwaan.

  I heard Cwele, said Jarvis.

  Whos the free one?

  Dont know, said Jarvis.

  So tell me about Savić, said Riedwaan. Down here hes clean, everyone seems to love him.

  The oke worked Joburg, but quietly. Lots of cash, no flash, but things began to get hot up here, said Jarvis. So he moved down to Cape Town. Said hed retired. Wanted the views, the culture, the feeling of living in a European city. Complained Joburg was becoming like Lagos.

  What else?

  He did business up here a long time. Drugs mainly. Guns, women if he had to. But nothing stuck. No convictions, not even an arrest.

  Howd he do it?

  Started small, quickly moved away from the man whod get caught. Made sure he just took the money and let everyone in between pay the price.

  He must have connections then, said Riedwaan.

  As high as they go, he had them. His father was from Yugoslavia the bit that became Serbia. At the end of the war he was declared a war criminal. Never got as far as The Hague
, though, said Jarvis.

  OK. And how did Savić end up here?

  His old man knew comrades whod come back from exile. He put some lucrative arms deals together. Consolidated the friendships. Then sent his son out here to keep an eye on business.

  Milan did well, said Riedwaan. He lives in a castle now like something out of a Bond movie.

  Like father, like son. Except little Milan dropped the war part and went straight for criminal. He came out here in the early 90s. Went to the most expensive boarding school in Joburg blazers, cricket, those stupid basher hats. Kids had a lot of money, so dealing coke was easy. He finds a niche, fills it. Goes for quality, not quantity. Anyways, whats the deal?

  Were about to pay him a call, said Clare.

  I hope hes not expecting you, said Jarvis. What you want to talk to him about?

  A missing girl and a very nasty bit of film, said Clare. Upstairs, classical music. Downstairs, extreme porn. A set-up like a gang rape by soldiers. Its pretty slick, though.

  I heard his father had a thing for that in Bosnia Muslim women were his favourite, said Jarvis. Sure sounds like Savić. Quality, not quantity. You could say thats his motto. And drugs you Capies are so flooded with cheap shit that it left the top end of the market open. All those movie stars in Clifton, the housewives in Camps Bay. They dont want tik. Wouldnt surprise me if hes back to dealing coke again.

  I owe you, Cyril, said Riedwaan.

  Watch your backs, said Jarvis. Savić buys whoever he needs. The rest just disappear.

  Riedwaan turned the ignition on, the wipers fighting the rain. He turned up the driveway towards the castle. The turrets vanished behind the pines, reappearing only as they turned the last bend.

  If what Jarvis says is true, said Riedwaan, and Cwele finds out, were fucked.

  47

  A security guard appeared when Clare stopped at the gate. She showed him her ID and he waved her through. She watched him in the rear-view mirror, his walkie-talkie held up to his mouth. There was sure to be a reception for them. The driveway snaked upwards, the looming castle foreshortened against the sky. Some cars stood in the gravel parking lot, one of them a red Mini Cooper. The custom-made number plate said Lily.

  Were in luck, said Clare as they walked up the stairs. A butler opened the door. A flicker of suspicion suggested hed read Riedwaan for a cop.

  Evening, said Clare. Were here to see Lily. Shes staying with Mr Savić. She stepped adroitly past him.

  Wed like to see Mr Savić too, said Riedwaan, following Clare into the cavernous reception area.

  Mr Savić is unavailable, said the butler. Lily is not available either, shes about to perform.

  Police, said Riedwaan, ID in hand.

  The click of heels on the stairs; Clare looked up to see Lily looking down. A flash of recognition.

  Clare stepped around the butler, taking the stairs two at a time. Along a corridor, she glimpsed the young woman slipping behind a door.

  Lily, said Clare as she opened the dressing room.

  Dr Hart. Blotting her lipstick, Lily left a scarlet arabesque on the tissue. Her cool green eyes rested on Clare.

  Tell me how it works, Lily. said Clare. Does Milan Savić fund the college?

  Yes, he does. The galas for our donors, the private parties, the cruises. It works very well. The director asks no questions. What we do after weve played is our own business. She appraised herself in the mirror. Were performing again soon. Please excuse me so that I can prepare.

  Wheres Rosa? asked Clare.

  I told you already. I dont know. Shes not here, certainly.

  But shes been here in the past, hasnt she?

  Milan Savić said Rosa was beautiful, that she was just right, said Lily.

  Riedwaan appeared in the doorway and Lily glanced at him in the mirror. She raised an eyebrow, stood up and slipped off her costume. Her body was magnificent.

  This your boyfriend, Dr Hart? she asked, sitting down again and rifling through a tray of makeup. Clare looked at Lilys fine, unfeeling face in the mirror. She was painting on a sweep of black eyeliner.

  Jonny Diamond is in custody, said Clare. He filmed what was done to Rosa on his phone.

  Lily swung round.

  Nothing happened to Rosa. What she did was business. Its legal in this country, Dr Hart. The film industry is big business and this is art, if you like, said Lily. She was well paid. What Rosa did, what all of us do, its only difficult the first one, two, maybe three times. Then its nothing. The same as playing music. Only more money. I dont see why youre hassled about it. Money is hard to make, in my experience. Rosa got her cash. Whats the problem?

  Lily turned back to her face, her mouth a hard line.

  I saw the film, said Clare. What happened to Rosa would unhinge most people.

  I talked to her afterwards, said Lily. I took her to the bathroom. She wouldnt speak. She wasnt bleeding or anything. She was fine. She had fifteen thousand rand in cash in her bag. How much finer can you get for an hours work?

  So you tried to speak to her? asked Clare.

  I tried, yes, said Lily. I said Id give her a lift. Take her where she wanted to go. She just said no.

  And after that?

  Nothing, really, said Lily, her face impassive. She just said I must open the side entrance and let her out. So I did. I watched her. She spoke to a man.

  Who? asked Clare.

  I dont know. This place is crawling with men. She grimaced. He was one of the security guys.

  Did she know him?

  How must I know? she said. It was too far away. He stopped her, they spoke, I think he pointed down the hill. Then he went back inside with one of the other guards and she walked down the road then turned the corner. She was gone.

  Well, nobody has seen her since, said Clare.

  Lily half-shut her eyes and applied gold eye-shadow to her lids.

  Theres nothing much for me at home either, Dr Hart, said Lily. Maybe Rosas the same.

  She took a short green dress off its hanger and stepped into it.

  Ive got nothing to hide, said Lily. Jonnys in shit because he shouldnt have been filming on that stupid phone of his, said Lily. But heres the man to ask, she said, looking at the figure reflected in the mirror. Hes the one who wanted her to perform for him.

  And youre the one who offered her up, Lily darling, said Milan Savić. He smiled at Clare as he enveloped her hand in his smooth palms. Noticing Riedwaan, his eyes betrayed a flicker of curiosity.

  To what do I owe the honour of this visit?

  Lily stepped up to Savić, turning so that he could zip up her dress. Shes here because that pretty little cellist you wanted so much to play with is gone, Milan.

  Mr Savić, said Clare. Ive seen the film.

  Jonny filmed the shoot, Lily explained. Dr Harts seen it.

  Savićs face was impassive.

  Pirate copies. Its going to kill art, he said. Isnt Rosa per fection?

  Shes missing, Mr Savić, said Clare. Shes disappeared.

  That has nothing to do with us, said Savić. This is a dangerous country for women, we all know that.

  Where is she, Mr Savić? asked Clare.

  I have no idea, said Savić. She was here, we made a film. I have not seen her in the flesh since. It was all perfectly above board. A business arrangement. Youd like to see, yes? Come to my office, Dr Hart, Captain. We can clear this up immediately. Savić cupped Clares elbow and shepherded her down the passage.

  Riedwaan held back, watched them walk away.

  Youre not following your girlfriend? Lily said to Riedwaan, leaning against the window frame.

  You dont trust him? asked Riedwaan.

  No woman should ever trust a rich man. A poor man like you hes going to be grateful: feed him a bit, fuck him a bit, and hes happy. He knows hes lucky. A rich man? Never. You dont make him happy? He buys a new one. You dont fuck him how he wants? He does it anyway. Because hes got money, and you have nothing.

  Her eyes glittered t
ears or spite, it was hard to tell.

  You want to leave like Rosa did? Riedwaan said. Just turn your back and leave everything behind and feel proud of yourself again?

  Here I have everything I want except pride. And whats that worth, anyway? Can you eat it? No. Can you smoke it? No. Sleep in it? Of course you cant.

  But what about Rosa?

  Lily shrugged. What about her? Pretty girl, talented. She let them all fuck her, and she took the money. She didnt come back. Can you blame her? No.

  Do you blame yourself for that?

  I just arrange things, thats all. Her voice trailed off. I warned him. I could see that with her things would go wrong. It broke her to do that stuff, but she did it anyway.

  Why did she do it, then?

  For one more year of an old mans life.

  Lily brushed past Riedwaan and walked down the corridor, her hair metallic in the light.

  48

  Milan Savić led Clare downstairs. Music suspended in the chill air Bach, Clare guessed voices, glasses clinking.

  Savić ushered Clare in, the guard called Mikey closed the door.

  My study, said Savić.

  He poured a whiskey and soda for Clare. She left it untouched.

  Theres a studio downstairs, but everythings locked now Sunday, you know and anyway thats not what you are here to see, Im certain. You are looking for that lovely cellist.

  Take a seat, Captain Faizal. Savić looked up when the door opened. Youre just in time. Help yourself. Water, cigarettes. Everythings there.

  Savić pointed the remote at the television screen. An image of Rosa Wagner appeared, her hair loose, her dress diaphanous, revealing the contours of her body. She was playing a solo. She seemed to escape the cameras hunger for her skin as she played. Her body, the bow, the exquisite instrument, were transformed into a single living entity. The music filled the room with a rich, compelling, yet infinitely melancholy sound.

  Beautiful, isnt it?

  Clare looked at Savić. He smiled at her.

  She is truly gifted, he said. She is also beautiful and delicate, but this you have surely noticed, said Savić, turning the music off. Its most unfortunate, these young men and their phone cameras.