“Do you know who it is?”
“I’m pretty sure.”
“Will you be able to fix it in time?”
“I’m preparing everything tonight. Jacobs is driving me to John Vorster Square police station early tomorrow. We’ll meet the prosecutor. Finalize details. Implement damage control.”
Jade knew Jacobs, the Redcliff chief of police. He’d spent a couple of weeks in Jo’burg, working on the case with her father, and she’d been forced into his company more often than she’d have preferred. He was a pudgy man with bronze skin, a man whose racist attitude was at odds, she felt, with the history behind his shock of tight, black, curly hair. He made Jade feel uneasy. She didn’t like the way he watched her. And she didn’t like the way he touched her when her father wasn’t around, his big hands cupping the flesh of her arm or waist, hot and greasy against her skin.
“Can I do anything to help?” Jade repeated.
Her father smiled. “You can bring me another coffee.”
Coffee made, she turned back to look at him as she closed her bedroom door. He was bent over his work again, the mug steaming on his desk. His leather briefcase, soft and worn from years of use, rested against his chair.
It was the last time she would see her father alive.
“What happened to Daddy?” Jade asked. The hoarseness of her voice surprised her. She coughed and swallowed.
Robbie’s reply was slow and deliberate. His eyes didn’t leave her face.
“The next day, Daddy died in a car accident.”
Jade’s breath stalled in her chest. She stared at him word-lessly. Her heart hammered as memories came flooding back. She barely heard his next words.
“Mummy hired me,” he said. “She’s gone to England and she’s not coming back. But she wants him dead. She’s paid good money for it. Doesn’t know I’d do something like that for free, as a favor to society.” Robbie rubbed his hands together as he waited for the traffic light to change. “So. I’m asking you one last time. You in?”
16
As they drove through the dark streets, Robbie outlined his plan.
“Guy’s name is Hirsch. Lives in one of these high-security housing estates,” he told her. “They’re going up like weeds in this area. Rich folk want to feel safe. Safe from poor people.” He laughed. “Except this guy, he’s different. He wants to keep away from all the folk who’d like to kill him.”
“So what do we do?”
“We’ve been keeping an eye on him. This evening he’s meeting his squeeze for a bit of fun. He’ll be home around nine p.m. Now Hirsch has an armed security guard who rides with him during the day. But on nookie nights he comes home alone. Drives straight into his garage. Bulletproof glass in his car windows. There’s only one chance we’ll have to take him down.”
“What’s that?”
“When he swipes his card to get into the estate. He’s got to roll his window down to do it. We take him then.” Robbie glanced at the dashboard clock. It read 20.45.
As plans went, Jade thought this one sounded suicidal. She’d never heard anything so crazy in her life.
“He lives in a security estate? The entrance will be guarded, Robbie. There’ll be armed personnel watching us.”
“Yeah, that’s true, babe. Two guards on duty at night. But they won’t be there.”
“Where will they be?”
“Responding to a call from a resident. Mrs. Chalmers, who lives in number ninety-six. All the way on the other side of the estate.”
Robbie pulled over to the side of the road and handed her a cell phone. He pulled a black beanie onto his head and adjusted the pair of mirrored sunglasses he’d put on. “We’ll call the guardhouse as soon as his car passes us. I suggest you sound frightened. Say there’s a strange vehicle parked outside your house and you’ve just seen a man run into your garden holding a gun.”
A sleek silver vehicle swept past them.
“That’s him.” Robbie put the car into gear. “Make the call and let’s get going. We’re only going to get one shot at doing this, I’m telling you now. We mess up and he sees us, we’re dead meat.”
Jade spoke with a tremor in her voice that wasn’t put on for the benefit of the guards. She felt out of her depth, shocked by the sudden turn the evening had taken. She hadn’t done this kind of job for ten years. Was Robbie even telling the truth? Or was she about to become an accomplice in the murder of an innocent man?
As soon as she hung up Robbie floored the accelerator and they sped after the silver car.
“We’ll stop behind him, but not too close,” he said. “As soon as I jump out, move into the driver’s seat and get ready to turn and go.”
The road was lined with security estates that sported gran-diose names and ostentatious entrances. Robbie slowed as he approached a construction site. “MOUNTAIN VIEW VILLAS. LUXURY DWELLINGS, SECURE ENVIRONMENT,” the gigantic sign read. The place was being built by a company called White & Co.
“That’s the second phase in progress. Hirsch lives next door. In Mountain View Phase One. Here we are.” Robbie turned into the wide paved driveway, lined with palm trees and clay flowerpots. The headlights swept the spiky shadows of leaves across their path. He flicked a knob on the dashboard and switched the lights off so they could approach in darkness. He steered with one hand, tearing at the nails of the other, his lips pulled back from his teeth. Watching him, Jade took a deep breath. She wasn’t the only one who was nervous.
Robbie eased to a stop a few meters behind the silver car at the security boom. He tensed as the mirrored window started moving slowly downwards. The area was quiet. No cars leaving, none arriving. It was just themselves and Hirsch. The perfect situation for an ambush.
Quietly opening the door, he strolled over, the gun materi-alizing in his hand as if by magic. Jade scooted across the con-toured leather to the driver’s seat. Cold air rushed in through the open door. She drew out her Glock and held it by her side.
The window of the silver vehicle was now fully down. She saw a black-sleeved arm emerge. Hirsch hadn’t seen Robbie.
Robbie reached the car, crouched and sighted. She jumped as she heard the whiplash crack of the shot. He didn’t move. He must be checking his target was down. Her gaze snapped back and forth across the area. Nobody behind them. No movement from the guardhouse.
Then the back door of Hirsch’s vehicle flew open and she gasped as a gray-suited man leapt out and sprinted round towards Robbie, a large black pistol in his hand.
Jade scrambled out of the car in a breathless instant. Their intelligence had been wrong. The armed guard was traveling with the drug lord. For whatever crazy reason, Robbie hadn’t seen the man in the backseat. If she didn’t react in time, his life expectancy would be measured in seconds.
“Crap,” Jade hissed. Now she would be forced to shoot an innocent man to save Robbie’s life—if a drug lord’s security detail could be considered innocent. At any rate, he wasn’t the one who dealt in illegal substances. He hadn’t given orders for a sixteen-year-old to die. And he wasn’t trying to kill her.
Worst of all, from her dimly lit vantage point, she would have to shoot him in the back to be certain of hitting him.
Tension thrumming through her body, and hating herself for the cowardly crime she was about to commit, Jade sighted down the barrel of the Glock, watching the man’s blond hair blow back from his pale face as he rounded the car. She saw Robbie’s horror as he stumbled backwards, trying to straighten up from his crouched position, attempting to raise his own weapon. But he was too late and too slow.
Jade squeezed the trigger. Once, twice, three times. The gun bucked in her hands, the shattering explosions ringing in her ears. The impact of the bullets sent the man reeling forward and down, like a drunk being forcefully evicted from a bar on the wrong side of town. His arms fell to his sides and he folded to the ground. His fingers scrabbled weakly on the tarmac as if attempting to clutch onto life. Recovering fast, Robbie leapt up and fired another two shots
into the fallen man’s head.
Then she was back in the car, feeling the powerful engine roar as she prepared for the getaway. Robbie dived into the passenger seat and slammed the door. Jade accelerated away in a tight, fast turn.
Glancing behind, she saw two men running to the silver car. The security guards, she was sure. Back from their ficti-tious call-out. She headed back onto the quiet road, past the construction signs, her legs quivering and a terrible coldness in her heart.
Robbie was slumped onto the seat, panting.
“Shit. Thought I was dead meat there for a second. You saved my ass, babe. Keep driving. Nice and slow, like a good citizen. Turn right here, then left to the main road. We can blend in with the traffic. God, my heart is racing. That’s the problem with these drug lord fuckers. They have instincts we don’t even know about. Something must have told him to keep the guard working overtime tonight.” He drew a deep breath and looked more closely at Jade. “Hey. You OK?”
Jade shook her head, blinking tears away. She wasn’t okay. She felt like turning the Glock on herself. She’d killed a man who had no part to play in Robbie’s client’s revenge, who was loyally protecting his employer. She had stepped too far over the line now. She was a murderer, no better than Robbie. No better than Viljoen.
“I’m fine.” Snapping out the words, she joined the main road.
“No, you’re not. I can see you’re upset. I’m sorry you had to get involved. But how was I to know that stupid guard was driving him home?”
Jade’s foot slipped off the clutch and the car choked to a stop. She turned to Robbie, eyes wide.
“The security guard was driving?”
He gave a shaky laugh.
“Couldn’t believe it when I checked the corpse and saw I’d shot some dwarf in a tuxedo. I couldn’t see into the back. It was partitioned off with more of that damn tinted glass. Next thing I know I’m looking down the barrel of a Little Eagle. Nice piece. Wish I’d had time to grab it. Anyway, point is, you shot Hirsch. He was your kill.” He fixed her with a steady gaze as she restarted the car. “I owe you a big one, Jade.”
She drove on, checking the mirrors for blue flashing lights, listening for the sirens she was expecting at any moment. And feeling relief slowly dilute her terrible guilt.
Robbie laughed again, louder and slightly hysterical. He elbowed her in the side.
“You’re so cute sometimes, babe, you know that? You get all upset because you think you shot somebody innocent. As if that guard wasn’t scum like the rest of them. He’s probably the guy who did all Hirsch’s dirty work on his behalf.”
Jade ignored Robbie’s humor attack.
“I’ll tell you how you can pay me back,” she said. “Find out who’s getting paid to quash cases. You brag about your con-nections. Find me the bent cop.”
He looked at her, eyes glinting, teeth bared in a grin.
“Consider it done.”
17
Jade’s cell phone woke her at five the next morning. It was dark outside and she could hear the chirps of the earliest birds above the insistent buzzing of her phone. She squinted at the screen, impossibly bright to her sleepy eyes, and recognized the number. It was David calling.
“Got a murder victim here, Jadey,” he said.
Jade turned on the bedside light, blinking as her vision adjusted to its glare. The events of the previous night seemed a lifetime away. Relieved she could focus on the case again, she ran through the list of possibilities.
“Dean Grobbelaar?”
“Well, we’ve still got to ID the body. But it matches his description. No shoes. A friend of Grobbelaar’s called in a missing person report yesterday. That poor bugger is standing by, waiting to take a look for us. It’s not a pretty sight, I’m told.”
“What happened? Where is he?”
“Out of town. In a wildlife sanctuary a couple of hours’ drive north of Jo’burg. I’m on my way to the scene now. Apparently he was tied to a tree and chopped up. With a panga or an axe, I’m guessing.”
Jade’s skin contracted into gooseflesh that had nothing to do with the temperature of the room. “That’s a terrible way to die. That’s just plain unnecessary.”
David gave the ghost of a laugh. “Why not shoot him and have done with it, you mean?”
“Well, yes.”
“I don’t know, Jadey. But chopping somebody to death is brutal. Unnecessary, as you say.”
“What do you want me to do, David?”
“I’ve got a forensic team checking out Dean’s office. I don’t know if they’ll find anything except ashes and soot, but why don’t you head over there and see if you can fill in the blanks?”
Jade hung up. She walked across to the bathroom and showered. By the time she’d finished the frosted glass in the window was glowing in the light of the rising sun and the birdsong was a cacophony.
She was on her way back to the bedroom, wrapped in her towel, when she heard a distinctive rattle. The security gate was being opened from the outside.
She froze, thinking of shootings and stabbings and people who used axes to chop people to death. She didn’t have her gun with her. It was still under the pillow. There was no time to run to the bedroom. The front door swung open and the alarm started beeping.
To Jade’s astonishment, a domestic servant in a pink uniform and frilly apron strolled into the kitchen, humming to herself. She pressed the keypad and turned off the alarm. She turned back again, and saw Jade standing in the corridor.
“Good morning,” she said, smiling broadly.
“Morning,” Jade said. She was sure it would take a few hours for her heart rate to return to normal.
The maid started clattering dishes in the sink. Still coasting on a wave of adrenaline, Jade returned to her bedroom. She pulled on jeans and a black jersey and holstered her gun. Secure, private, safe cottage? Hah. Wait till she got hold of David.
On the way to Grobbelaar’s office, Jade called the hospital to check on Yolandi. A doctor told her that she was conscious and recovering from her ordeal. “She has no memory of the break-in, I’m afraid,” he told her. “Very common after this type of head injury. Her daughter is here with her now. Just arrived from Canada.”
Jade was glad that Yolandi would recover, but sorry that she couldn’t identify her attacker. She wondered whether she had been assaulted by the same thugs who’d torched Dean’s office. Did the thugs have a real motive for their actions, she wondered, or were they just hired help, paid to carry out jobs that the boss preferred not to do?
The little shopping center was a hive of activity when she arrived. A police car was idling in the parking area. A cop stood in the sun outside the shop, notebook in hand. He was talking to a store assistant whom Jade didn’t recognize. She supposed this man had a genuine identity book. He had ditched his shop-keeping activities in favor of the more high-profile occupation of being interviewed by the police.
The east wing of the office block was scorched and destroyed. Grobbelaar’s office had been gutted. She didn’t know what the forensic team could possibly hope to find beyond the obvious evidence of arson.
Jade walked up the stairs, coughing as the foul smell caught in her throat. On the landing, she looked out and saw Grob-belaar’s car. Once again, the old Toyota was covered in a layer of frost. It seemed to be sagging on its worn tires.
Two forensic officers in protective gear were combing through the room, stepping carefully over fallen beams and piles of ash. The wooden filing cabinet was gone, reduced to a heap of charcoal. She’d never know what had been in the drawer marked “Pending.”
She greeted the officers. They didn’t need any help and Jade started to feel guilty all over again.
“Can I check out his car for you?” she asked. It might not be constructive, but at least it would give her something to do. Save them some valuable time, perhaps, and make up for adding to the workload of the South African police service through her actions the night before. They agreed. A
rmed with a pair of rubber gloves and a plastic evidence bag, she set off.
As she walked down the stairs, Jade tried to picture the scene that had taken place when Grobbelaar was abducted. He’d worked in his office on his own. He must have been grabbed after the store closed, when it was fully dark outside.
If Jade had wanted to snatch him, she would have done exactly what she thought his killer did. Waited till he was about to leave and then shoved a gun into his face as he was stepping out of the office. She recalled the position of the shoes. Ready to go.
She was sure it would have taken two people to do this job. She didn’t think Grobbelaar would have submitted to a lone attacker. He worked in a tough industry, probably had some kind of police or military background. Like the shaven-headed ex-cop friend of her father’s who ran spe-cialist courses in self-defense and bodyguarding and had given her an intensive month’s tuition before she’d taken her first job.
“Never allow yourself to be forced into a vehicle,” Jade remembered the hard-muscled man saying. “The best time to fight is before they take you away, so make the most of it. Fight dirty. Scream to draw attention to yourself. What-ever the hell you do, however poor the odds of success seem, they’re almost always going to be better than when the bad guys drag you out again after the ride.”
Physically, she imagined Grobbelaar had looked a lot like her self-defense instructor. So why had he given in to his kid-napper? Jade didn’t know. She could only assume he’d been outnumbered and surprised. In which case, it was likely that his attackers also had a police or military background.
She remembered Annette’s bullet wounds. Accurate, effective, placed to kill. Her shooter had skill and discipline. The same skill and discipline, perhaps, that had allowed someone to tie up, gag and disarm a big, tough private detec-tive without a struggle.
So, one person to keep the gun trained on him. Another to remove his shoes. Or perhaps they’d told him to take them off himself. Then they’d secured his hands behind him. Forced the sock into his mouth to prevent Grobbelaar from drawing any unwanted attention.
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