Endgame

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Endgame Page 4

by Wilna Adriaanse


  When Nick arrived there an hour later, he realised again how he hated shopping malls. There was just too much of everything: people, shops, stuff. One day the world would be destroyed by all the shit being manufactured every day. How much does one person need? Even on a Monday morning there was too much of everything.

  Barnard was already seated when Nick got to the coffee shop. They didn’t shake hands. Nick sat down opposite him.

  He had found out only later that Captain Clive Barnard had been McKenna’s handler during the time she had looked after Clara Veldman. Nick felt his annoyance resurface. They had made his life very difficult.

  A waiter approached and they both ordered coffee.

  “I still can’t decide if I should feel honoured that you called me or if I should punch you in the face,” Barnard began. “Do you really think everyone who’s left is corrupt?”

  “That’s not what I said. Listen to what I’m about to say and then tell me what you would have done.”

  “Shoot. But remember, I’m not a priest. If you want absolution, you’re at the wrong place. I don’t do confessions.”

  Nick told him about the previous night’s events at Allegretti’s home and that the Italian had presumably gone missing.

  Before Clive could react, the waiter brought their coffee and they stirred in their sugar before they both looked up again.

  “Have you reported it?”

  “No, we can’t afford a fuck-up. But I can’t do it alone either. Firstly, I don’t know enough people around here and time is an issue. You should know, the longer it takes to get going, the colder the trail becomes.”

  “Do you think Allegretti did it?”

  “I considered it, but I don’t think so. Allegretti is capable of a lot, but he doesn’t like getting his hands dirty.”

  “But it’s a possibility?”

  “Anything is possible.”

  “What do you need?”

  “A team to work with. As soon and as discreetly as possible. Preferably before Organised Crime hears about it.”

  “Where’s the wounded guy?”

  “Christiaan Barnard.”

  “They’re supposed to inform the cops when a gunshot or stab-wound victim is admitted. Did you ask the doctor and the staff not to report it?”

  “No, I told them I was from the police and hoped they’d assume it had been reported.”

  “And now you want me to tell you who can be trusted and who not?”

  “In a nutshell, yes. Preferably as soon as possible.”

  “What do I get for helping you?”

  Nick folded his arms and sat back in his chair. “Are we talking about a bribe?”

  Clive lowered his cup, wiped his mouth and began to push his chair back. “I’d better leave before I beat the shit out of you.”

  Nick raised his hands. “What do you want?”

  “I want to be part of the investigation. And I want unrestricted access to the information you’ve gathered so far on Allegretti and the others.”

  “I can’t have it end like the last time. This is our last chance. We worked for years for all that information. In the wrong hands it could cause us untold damage.”

  “It’s my condition.”

  “Okay, but I’m running the operation. That’s not negotiable.”

  Clive nodded. “As long as you know what you’re doing, I won’t interfere. I don’t have time, anyway, but I still want to be kept informed.” He got up. “Give me about four hours and I’ll get back to you.”

  Nick motioned for Clive to sit back down.

  “That’s one half of the story. The other half is that Clara Veldman has been missing since Friday night. She was at Paranga in Camps Bay with friends.”

  Clive sank deeper into his seat, shaking his head. “Jesus, it’s a fucking circus.”

  Nick nodded.

  “What do her friends say?”

  “I only found out last night, and it’s not as if I have access to any of her people to find out what happened.”

  “It’s too much of a coincidence, she and Allegretti disappearing two days apart.”

  “I don’t believe in coincidence.”

  “Neither do I. And if I know Williams, this hasn’t been reported to the police either. He can’t afford it.” Clive got up.

  Nick followed suit and they walked out together. “I don’t care if he’s your friend. I don’t want Greyling near either of these cases,” Nick said.

  Clive stopped, looked at Nick. “You came to me for help. I’ll do what I can, but I’m not going to be dictated to. You’ll have to trust me to find the right people.”

  He turned away before Nick could say anything else.

  In the bakkie Nick cautiously moved his head from side to side. The headache had spread to his neck. It felt as if the tendons could snap at any moment. He pulled away but stopped at the first café, and bought a bottle of water and a sachet of four painkillers. He swallowed all four. Then he took out his phone and dialled a number.

  “Riana Kellerman, good morning.”

  “Riana, it’s Nick.”

  Strange how much silence can say, he thought when she didn’t respond at once. He pictured her in his mind. The guys had been jealous when Nols had got her. Quite a few of them had had the hots for her. Fortunately he had been smart enough to know that his best friend’s wife was forbidden fruit. Even in his thoughts.

  “I wondered if you’d remember.”

  “How are you? Have you heard from Nols?”

  “No, the paperwork will probably take a while. Mind you, I don’t know if there’s paperwork the day you’re released.”

  “Do the kids know?”

  Silence again. “I don’t think I’m going to tell them. They were three and one when he left. They don’t know him any more.”

  “I thought you took them to see him?”

  “In the beginning, yes, but the older they got, the harder it became. Jesus, Nick, it’s awful to take kids to see their dad in jail. They started asking questions. And with the move to Cape Town it got difficult. I couldn’t afford air tickets every three months.”

  “I understand, but you could have asked me, even if it wasn’t every time.”

  “I did what I thought was best for the children.”

  “It’s not as if he killed anyone.”

  “It doesn’t matter. Prison is prison. No place for children. I didn’t want them to go to school with that kind of baggage.”

  “Riana, they’re his kids. He has a right to see them.”

  He heard her grunt. “I don’t know if you’re the one who should be lecturing me. If it weren’t for you …”

  He sighed. They’d been down this road a few times before. “If you want me to apologise, or ask forgiveness, I’ll do it, but it won’t change anything.”

  “Can I ask you something … if you had to make that decision again today, would you do the same thing?”

  Nick wished he hadn’t phoned. “I can give you the easy answer and say, yes, I’d do it again, but it’s not that simple. I don’t know what I’d do today. If I’d known he wasn’t going to see his children, I might have decided differently. I don’t know.”

  “Do you know I divorced him?”

  “When?”

  “Last year.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “At first, because I knew you’d try to convince me not to. And then it no longer mattered. We make our own choices.”

  Nick closed his eyes and massaged his neck muscles.

  “If he contacts you, please tell him I’d like to see him. I haven’t been able to visit in a long time.”

  “I’ll tell him. He’ll have to come here at some point. All his personal stuff is still here and we’ll probably have to divide up the furniture. I can’t expect him to walk out with nothing.”

  Nick wanted to say, “Fuck the furniture, give the man his kids back,” but his words seemed to have dried up.

  “Well, all the best, then.


  “Thanks, to you too. By the way, where are you?”

  “In Cape Town.”

  “Are you still in the service?”

  “Yes.”

  “Maybe you should get out. The job doesn’t come with a built-in trip switch. At one time or another there’ll be a short and everything will be blown to hell. Get out while you still know more or less who you are.”

  “I may take your advice.”

  “Are you seeing anyone at the moment?”

  “No, I don’t have time right now.”

  “Nick … have you kept your hands clean all these years, or are you just smarter?”

  Nick wished he had bought more painkillers. The four he had taken seemed to have made his headache worse.

  “Riana, let’s talk about that another day. I don’t have time today. Besides, we’ll probably have to define what you mean by ‘clean’.”

  “Why do you think he didn’t try to involve you at the time?”

  “I don’t know. You’ll have to ask him. Sorry, I have to run.”

  They said goodbye and Nick started the engine and pulled away. Then he stopped. He drained the bottle of water before he drove on.

  He and Nols Kellerman had met during their first week of training. It was one of those easy friendships. They got each other’s humour. They were each other’s best men. Party buddies. Always got the other one home safely when they had partied hard.

  Nols had gone to court with him the day of his first divorce. Seen to it that he ate afterwards, and spent the rest of the day with him on the balcony of Nick’s new bachelor flat while they tried to make sense of life over their brandy glasses.

  The first time Nick suspected something was wrong was during the investigation of a car theft syndicate. At most, it was a feeling of unease. Few things make you as blind as the desire not to see. The second time, he lay awake all night, deliberating. The next morning, he asked Nols if everything was okay. People think friendship opens all doors, but that’s not true. Some questions are much easier to ask a stranger than your best friend. Like: “Did you accept money to make a docket disappear?” It didn’t matter how many drinks he’d had, he just couldn’t ask Nols that question.

  The third time it happened he lost so much sleep that he no longer trusted his own judgement. For nights on end he tried to find holes in his theory. Then he took the easy way out and went to the chief. Let someone else figure it out. The next morning Nols was temporarily suspended, and an investigation was launched. Unfortunately Nols hadn’t covered his tracks. Within two weeks it was over and Nols had been found guilty.

  The first time Nick had gone to visit him in prison he’d been furious.

  “We’re talking about fucking cars, you know. The insurance companies pay out anyway. Do you think those are the only cars those rich buggers own? It’s not as if anyone was ever killed. What do you take me for?”

  Nick had let him talk.

  “You’re not a friend’s arse. Why didn’t you come to me first? Why didn’t you warn me? Isn’t that what mates do?”

  Nick had felt it grow quiet inside his head. The words he had come with had dried up. Nothing he could say would make it better.

  “You don’t know what it costs to raise two kids.”

  Nick had shaken his head. Listened to the outburst a while longer and tried his best not to look visibly relieved when visiting hours were over.

  He’d gone to see Nols a few more times. A light seemed to have dimmed inside his friend. The second time Nick had gone, Nols had still been angry, but the intensity had no longer been there. The third time he’d been quiet, answering or reacting only sporadically. The last two times he hadn’t spoken at all. Neither had he looked at Nick.

  Riana had asked why Nick hadn’t crossed the line himself. What the rest of the population doesn’t realise is that the lines are different. They want to see results and they want to believe that the police are honest, but what they don’t know is that the two things don’t always go together. Or they prefer not to know.

  People often asked him why he had decided to become a cop. He realised that everyone had their own reasons. Some were plausible, others almost laughably naive. He had never laughed at anyone’s reason, because his own probably demonstrated the worst degree of naivety. He imagined that a boy who grows up without a father tries for the rest of his life to become his own hero. The problem is that he doesn’t really know what heroism should look or feel like, so one day he realises he’s like a dog chasing its own tail. But he keeps on. Perhaps in the hope that, one day, he’ll see something in someone else’s eyes that he himself can’t see.

  Nols had grown up with a father.

  CHAPTER 5

  Ellie was sitting on a bench in the Company’s Garden, staring at her cellphone. She dialled the number before she could get cold feet.

  “Greyling.”

  “It’s me.”

  “Babes! Where are you?”

  Ellie ignored the pet name. “Why have you been looking for me?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Why did you call Clive to ask where I was?”

  “I was worried about you. I wanted to know how you are and where you are. No one else seemed to know where to find you.”

  “And the guys who came looking for me yesterday?”

  There was a moment’s silence. Then he said: “Where are you? I want to talk to you.”

  Ellie hesitated. “I’m in the Company’s Garden.” She explained where she was sitting. “I have things to do. If you’re not here in twenty minutes, I’m leaving.”

  “I’ll be there in ten. Don’t leave.”

  Ellie looked around her. People were walking to and fro, living their ordinary lives. Opposite her a young mother knelt beside her toddler, pointing out a squirrel. Two schoolgirls hurried past, talking breathlessly. They reminded her of herself and Melissa. She had to phone Melissa. By now she would probably refuse to talk to her.

  She was still thinking about Melissa when she saw the familiar figure approach. His hair was slightly longer than usual and his clothing of a better quality than when they had first met, but basically he looked the same.

  Captain Albert Greyling was an attractive man with tousled blond hair and a lean body. At thirty-five he was probably at the height of his career. He was prepared to work hard, as his achievements proved.

  Her dad had had misgivings about Albert. It was a subject the two of them had tried to avoid, especially after Ellie and Albert had started to date. Today she had questions about Albert that she wished she could ask her father.

  The two of them had last seen each other in the office of Brigadier Ibrahim Ahmed, head of the Serious Economic Offences Unit in Cape Town. She was still not completely sure what had gone wrong with their case, nor what Albert’s part in it had been.

  During the past few months she had decided she probably didn’t want to know either.

  She noticed his hesitation when he saw her. Then he smiled. “I nearly didn’t recognise you. The last time I saw you, you were a brunette.” He sat down beside her, leaned across and kissed her cheek. “Hell, you look good.”

  “Why did you want to see me?”

  He leaned back and looked at her over his sunglasses. “Don’t do this. I’m not the enemy.”

  Ellie sighed. “Albert, this isn’t a social visit. I don’t want to make small talk.”

  “I was worried about you. Is that a sin? You just disappeared.”

  “And you just happened to phone Clive this weekend to find out where I was? Why don’t I believe you?”

  “When last did you see Clara Veldman or hear from her?”

  “When I left, five months ago.”

  “Never again?”

  “No.”

  “Would you have told me if you’d had contact with her?”

  “Depends.”

  “Mac, don’t play games.”

  “Why do you want to know?”

  He sat back on the be
nch. Stretched his arms along the backrest. “Williams thinks she was kidnapped on Friday night.”

  “By whom?” She should have known Happy wouldn’t have told her if he hadn’t been certain of the facts. She decided not to tell Albert she already knew.

  “Your guess is as good as mine. It could literally be anyone. You know how many people want a go at Williams.”

  “Are you still working for him?”

  “I never worked for Williams.”

  “Albert, I don’t care what you tell the others, but you can’t lie to me. Things between you and Williams weren’t always above board.”

  He touched her shoulder and turned her towards him. “I told you at the time: You do what has to be done to make an operation succeed. We’re not playing games, and none of us are virgins any more. We all know what we’re letting ourselves in for.”

  Ellie shook her head. “I’m not interested. It’s your life. As long as you realise there are others involved and you have no right to put their lives in danger.”

  He threw his hands up. “Fuck! Was I the one who hurt you? Did I ever put your life in danger? I kept you informed every step of the way. Why don’t you point a finger at your friend Malherbe, or Barnard?”

  Ellie wanted to ask him about the night on the road to Rietvlei, and whether he had ever disclosed the role Reggie had played, but she didn’t have the stomach for reopening old wounds.

  “Albert …” She took a deep breath. “I don’t know why we’re talking about this. It’s in the past. I’m sorry it didn’t go the way we hoped, but that’s the way it is. We both know it. It’s part of the job.” She turned to him. “Who are the guys who came looking for me?”

  “Two youngsters who work for Williams.”

  “You told Williams where I was! Why didn’t you come yourself?”

  “I’m snowed under with work; I can’t budge. You’ve no idea what it’s like. Bloody Ahmed treats me like a child. I can hardly sneeze without asking his permission and if I sneeze anyway, I have to file a report in triplicate.” He leaned forward, his elbows on his thighs. “Lately I’ve been thinking of packing up and fucking off. I’ve worked my arse off to gain the trust of Williams and his crowd. The suspension, even if it was only a month, hurt me. I nearly lost them. When Williams called me I didn’t think there was any harm in trying to find out where they could get hold of you. They seemed quite desperate.”

 

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