“He’s got a big mouth, but he’s never lied to me. I’ve always been able to depend on him. He may not bring me answers immediately, but you know as well as I do that from the bits and pieces we often get the full picture.”
“Yes, I know. I just didn’t feel like taking his shit today.”
“I don’t think the guy who works for Williams was clever enough not to give details. The truth may be that he doesn’t know. Those people are too clever to allow every foot soldier to know the full story. In my experience, they work on a need-to-know basis.”
“Talk to me,” Clive said when they had driven a few kilometres without Ellie saying anything more. “Tell how your mind’s working.”
“In circles.”
“There’s also Ken Visser, of course,” Clive said after a few moments’ silence. “The guy Gabriella Allegretti married last year. I’ve heard rumours that his father has ties with a syndicate that worked out of Zimbabwe and Angola years ago. The story is that they had contacts in the army way back then, and that his father has important connections in Zanu–PF. Maybe he’s the one stirring things up, in the hope of getting rid of his brother-in-law, which will make him and his wife the sole heirs. If he manages to piss Barkov off and have fingers pointed at brother Enzio, he may be rid of him. Or maybe he and Enzio are in cahoots and he’s the balls in the operation. Hell, it must be hard to be stuck with a legacy like that. Aren’t kids supposed to be more successful than their parents?”
Ellie looked out the window. “That’s what they say.”
Clive sighed. “In my case it wasn’t very hard. I outshone my old man just by getting up in the morning.”
“I made peace long ago with the fact that I shouldn’t even try. Now I don’t know any more.” She let her head lean back into the headrest and they both fell silent.
Clive turned the radio up. Arno Carstens was singing: “From the galaxy of blues to a universe we choose, no more crying and just maybe somebody to hold …”
After that, it was Coleske: “Take me where the sun is shining, where the air up in the skies are in my eyes, and I will fly to where my dreams are hiding somewhere in the sky, for just a while.”
When Nianell began to sing “Did you see the shiny moon turned into a black balloon just as you walked away from me?” Clive looked at her. “Warn me before you start crying, but I’m a sucker for this girl’s lyrics.”
“You’re forgetting what kind of home I grew up in. My dad had a very broad taste in music. But he drew the line at backtracks.”
“One of my girlfriends didn’t like local music. I think that’s why I started liking it. Pure childish rebellion. Relationships can get pretty toxic.”
Ellie thought about her parents. Was their marriage also toxic towards the end? Can people’s expectations of love and marriage be so different that one partner thinks he’s giving his all, while the other one feels she’s starving?
“And yet we don’t stop searching. Maybe humans are programmed to find a partner. The never-ending hope that this time you’ll get it right.”
Clive sighed. “We’re stuffed before we’ve even started.”
They stopped at the office block and walked quietly to their office, side by side.
“Ellie, Captain Greyling has been looking for you,” Rita said the minute they entered.
“Why didn’t he call me on my cell?”
“No, he’s here.”
“What’s he doing here?”
Rita motioned with her head in the direction of the corner office. “He’s with the brigadier.”
Ellie hung her handbag over the back of her chair, poured herself a cup of coffee and took up position in front of the whiteboard. She had always been good with riddles. The thing was to unravel that first thread. After that, it was child’s play. She read the names again. Saw them in her mind’s eye. Allegretti. Even in the worst photo he was attractive. The same could not be said for Alexei Barkov. The good life was apparent in his waistline and double chin. But it didn’t seem to put the girls off; there was a continuous parade of them on his arm.
Yuang Mang maintained a lower profile, but occasionally a photo surfaced, taken at some event or club. He was a regular visitor at a particular Chinese restaurant in Sea Point.
The one she found most unpredictable was Nazeem Williams. No one knew his bloodline, but he was said to have grown up in Manenberg. He lived in Rondebosch East these days. In a big house, with who knows how many others. His mother and some of his siblings were still in Manenberg, but in a different house. A bigger one he had bought a few years ago.
The one she knew the least about was the Nigerian, Jonathan. What she did know was that he was connected to every possible 419 scam.
Allegretti lived in an enormous house in Bantry Bay, Barkov had a house in Milnerton and, according to the latest reports, Mang lived in Newlands.
She wrote on the board again. Clive sat down on the chair behind her desk and shook his head. “You and your lists. What are you writing now?”
“Their legal businesses. You taught me: When in doubt, start at the beginning.”
He nodded. “Everyone is in imports and exports. What else? Allegretti has the club as well, and Williams has a number of spaza shops in the townships.”
She stepped back from the board. “Yes, the concept ‘import and export’ is open to interpretation these days.”
They looked up when they heard loud voices coming from the corner office.
Rita shrugged when Ellie looked at her. “It’s been like that for a while.”
Clive also looked at the closed door. “If I were Greyling I’d tread carefully. You don’t handle that tigress without kid gloves.”
“And if she hears you calling her a tigress she’ll nail your balls to the floor with her stilettos,” Rita said.
All three went quiet when the door opened. Then Albert spoke behind them.
“My, but the two of you are busy!”
Ellie turned and saw Brigadier Zondi watching them for a moment before she closed her door.
Ellie looked at Albert, but his easy smile was in place.
“What are you doing here?”
“Can’t I come visit you?” His hand brushed her buttocks. “I came to invite you to dinner tonight. I feel like I haven’t seen you in years.”
“You ask me for dinner but go looking for trouble with my boss when I’m not here?”
He looked at the closed door in the corner and smiled. “We had a nice little chat. The two of us are old chums.” He touched her hand. “Come on, say you’ll come for dinner tonight.”
“I don’t know. I have to go home first, see how my mom is.” She suddenly remembered she had planned to phone her mom. “And Clive asked me to go for a drink.”
Albert looked at Clive. “Am I going to have to pull rank?”
“Sorry, Mac,” Clive said, “that drink will have to wait.”
“The story of my life.” She looked at Albert. “I have to go to my mom first.”
“Okay, come when you’re done.” He looked at the board. “Are you still busy with that bunch of losers?”
“I know you don’t like to share, but you didn’t happen to hear any gossip anywhere, did you?” Clive asked while the three of them stood gazing at the board.
Albert shook his head. “The problem is that they’re almost always causing shit. You can never really tell what’s been going on for a while, and what’s new. But I promise, if I hear anything, I’ll let you know.”
Clive extended his hand. “Congratulations on the promotion. I haven’t had a chance to say it personally.”
Albert shook his hand. “Thanks. Maybe I’ll be able to afford an engagement ring at last.”
“Are you …?”
Ellie shook her head. “Ignore him. He’s hallucinating.”
Albert’s hand reached for her bum again but she moved out of reach. He laughed. “She’s just shy.” He glanced at the empty desks and gave her a peck on the cheek. “See you later. Clivie
, look after her, will you?”
Clive followed him with his eyes as he walked away. “One day you’ll be playing hard to get and another girl will walk away with the prize.”
“Yes, Dad. Come, focus now.”
When they hadn’t made much progress an hour later, Clive left to attend to a few other matters. “If I don’t see you again today, we’ll talk tomorrow. In the meantime, I’ll call a few contacts and see if they’ve got anything new.”
Ellie put the pen down and walked to the corner office. She knocked and waited for a reply before she put her head around the door.
“I’m leaving now. I need to go and see someone in Sea Point.”
Zondi didn’t look up. “All right.”
Ellie was closing the door when Zondi called her back. “Did Greyling talk to you?”
“About?”
“Never mind. See you later.”
CHAPTER 7
Main Road in Sea Point was busy. They’d often gone there on Sundays when Ellie was a child. They’d buy ice cream and walk on the promenade. Her dad never talked about money, but she instinctively knew the people who lived there had more money than they did. These days, the place had two different faces. The seafront still looked expensive and exclusive, but one street back you began to wonder whether you’d been mistaken all those years ago. A few old landmarks were still there, but the people in the streets looked different.
The child inside you told you the ones with the sea views were the good guys, the hardworking ones, and the back streets belonged to the bad guys – the ones who did their business in the dark. But nothing was that simple any more. She wasn’t sure it had ever been that simple. Children found shortcuts to make sense of a chaotic world, and it was a sad day when you started to question your shortcuts. It was probably what it meant to grow up.
Ellie found parking in front of a restaurant, and took two notes and a few coins from her purse and put them in her pocket, along with her cellphone. She locked her handbag in the boot and started walking.
She saw a few prostitutes on one or two street corners. At first glance they seemed to be waiting for a bus, but as Ellie approached, she noticed the body language, the heavy makeup and the ladders in the black stockings one of the women was wearing.
“Has anyone seen Brenda?” Ellie asked.
They looked at each other. “And you are?”
“Her sister.”
Two of them laughed out loud. “Nice try.”
“Come on, I don’t have all day.”
“I don’t know anyone called Brenda,” said a woman with bright red lips. She looked at the others, who all shook their heads.
Ellie took a hundred rand note from her pocket.
“Oh, you mean Miss Fassie … why didn’t you say so? At this time of day she’s probably down there, eating.”
“Where?”
“The Greek with the bleeding heart. He gives her food.”
Ellie turned around and walked in the opposite direction. Some distance from the corner she spotted Brenda. She was wearing a short black skirt, gold patent-leather sandals and an eye-catching black-and-green top. Brenda had always been a good dresser. The minute she saw Ellie she started walking away, but Ellie lengthened her strides and fell into step beside her.
“Come on, Brenda, you owe me.”
“That’s the problem with you lot. I can never repay my debt. What do you want?”
“Seen anyone interesting?”
Brenda kept going. “Aren’t all men interesting?” she asked, wide-eyed.
Ellie had to smile. “True.”
“I haven’t heard anything. At least, nothing new. Same old, same old.”
“You’re an old hand, Brenda. Men like chatting to you.”
“Yes, but most of the time they’re talking shit. It’s not like they tell me their business. It’s only when they can’t get it up that they brag about the money and the contacts. You know what men are like.”
“What about the foreign girls? Do you know any of them?”
“They stick together, mostly, but some of them look for company now and then. Especially the Russians. The local girls don’t like them. The men love those grey eyes, and the only English they know is ‘yes’.”
“What do they say when they talk to you?”
Brenda raised her eyebrows. “Do you really think they can describe in full sentences what’s going on where? Shit could be happening right in front of them and they wouldn’t know what it is. They don’t know the context.”
“But you understand the context. And that’s why I’m asking you … Anything would help.”
They stopped at a traffic light and waited with the rest of the pedestrians for the light to change to green. “I’ll keep my eyes open, but I can’t promise anything.”
“Thanks.” Ellie took a two-hundred-rand note from her pocket and pressed it into Brenda’s hand.
“Don’t come asking around here any more. The girls get nervous. If they tell their pimps, it could get dangerous. Give me your cell.”
Ellie handed over her cellphone and Brenda pushed a few buttons. “Call me at this number if you’re looking for me, but don’t make a nuisance of yourself.”
“Thanks.”
Ellie stood watching Brenda’s departing figure. Slender, straight. Too pretty and too smart for the streets. Her ancestors’ divergent bloodlines had given her an interesting face. Delicate nose, intelligent eyes. A full mouth tilting up at the corners, as if she were perpetually amused. A complexion like rich milk chocolate. At their first meeting a year ago Ellie had asked her why she worked on the streets. She had shrugged. “My mother taught me never to beg. It doesn’t matter what job you do … as long as you do it well. But don’t beg.”
“But you could …”
“What? What do you think I could do? I didn’t even finish Grade 10.”
“Aren’t you afraid?”
“Life is full of risks. If you don’t know that, you’re in the wrong job.”
“How old are you?”
“How old would you like me to be?”
Ellie had shaken her head. “I’m not one of your clients.”
“Somewhere between twenty-five and thirty-five. If I can believe my mother.”
Watching her walk away now, Ellie had the same feeling she’d had then. Brenda’s body might be thirty, but her eyes were much older.
“I’m not a child. You don’t have to babysit me.” Her mother stood with her hands on her hips. Her hair was no longer as neat as it had been the day before at the funeral.
In the recent past Ellie had often caught her dad looking at old photographs. Her mom, smartly dressed, laughing. Well groomed. Over the years her smooth complexion had lost its glow and her eyes had grown weary. Her mouth no longer laughed as often.
“I need to know that you’re not going to be irresponsible.” As she spoke the words, Ellie felt like laughing at the absurdity of it. What did “irresponsible” mean to her mom? The adult part of her knew her mom had no control, but the child inside her wanted her mom to be able to choose. How hard could it be to decide not to drink today? Rika McKenna didn’t find it hard to say no to food, after all.
“Are you seriously going to stand here and talk to me about being irresponsible?” Her hands fluttered between them. “To me, who wouldn’t know if he was dead or alive for nights on end! Who begged him not to take risks – did he take any notice at all? And then you came along and joined the police too. As if you didn’t know better.” She gave a brief laugh. “Please, spare me the lecture.” She pointed at her head. “I’m up to here with the two of you.”
“It’s no use getting angry with me.”
Her mom turned on her heel and went to her room. Ellie heard the door slam shut. When she went after her, the door was locked.
“Mom, open the door.”
“It’s my house and my room and I don’t feel like talking to you tonight.”
“I’ll stop by again tomorrow.”
>
“Don’t bother.”
Ellie leaned her forehead against the closed door for a moment, turned, locked the front door behind her and walked to her car. As she drove away, she sent a muttered prayer off into the air.
She and her mother were like two puppets without their ventriloquist. The silence between them seemed to be lengthening as the days went by.
The report in the newspaper had read:
Colonel John McKenna, an experienced detective with more than thirty-five years’ service, was fatally wounded at about 19:00 last night at a roadblock outside Kraaifontein, when shots were fired from a vehicle. He died at the scene.
A second police officer was wounded but is out of danger after a bullet was removed from his lower spine during an operation late last night.
The car from which the shots were fired was found in Gugulethu an hour after the incident. No suspects have been arrested.
John McKenna was awarded the medal for outstanding service twice in his career. At the time of going to press, there was no comment from his family. His colleagues all expressed great admiration for McKenna.
“They don’t make them like that any more,” an ex-colleague said.
At least he’d been given a name. The family had still not commented, and weren’t planning to. What did the reporter think they were supposed to say?
Albert was in the kitchen when she arrived at his flat in Oakdale. He had bought KFC and was arranging it on a plate. She wasn’t hungry, but still longed for a kitchen that smelled delicious. Her mother had been a good cook, probably still was, but since she’d started to eat less herself, she’d stopped going to any trouble with food.
Albert didn’t cook and his stove was slowly growing a mountain of unopened mail.
He smiled when he saw her, drew her into the circle of his arms and kissed her. He groaned and ran his fingers through her hair. “Damn, I missed you. Suddenly I’m not that hungry any more.”
She stepped out of his embrace and sat down at the table. He poured her a glass of whisky with ice. She turned the glass around and around so that the ice cubes tinkled.
“Where’s your bag?”
“I didn’t have time to go home first. Besides, I want to sleep at my own place tonight.”
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