Blindside

by Wilna Adriaanse

  The one with the shorter haircut turned.

  “I’m Nick Malherbe. You spoke to me on the phone.” Nick went over and put out his hand.

  They shook hands and Vermaak pointed at the other man. “Captain Greyling.” He waited for them to shake hands before he continued. “Is Mr Allegretti here?”

  “He’s busy, but he’ll join us shortly. Can I offer you some coffee?”

  They shook their heads. “We don’t have much time. How long will Mr Allegretti be?”

  Nick was getting annoyed. He had played the game for long enough to know exactly how it worked, but he restrained himself.

  “Please sit.” He pointed at a few chairs in a corner that looked reasonably clutter-free. “As I said on the phone, I am Mr Allegretti’s chief of security. Perhaps I can answer some of your questions.”

  “It must have been a good party,” Vermaak remarked when they were seated.

  “I wouldn’t know. Seems like it.”

  “You weren’t here?”

  “No.”

  “May I ask where you were?”

  “I was at the club until about one and then I went home.”

  “And home is …?”

  Nick gave the address of the apartment and saw the two looking at each other.

  “The job must pay well,” Greyling said and Nick felt himself getting hot under the collar. He ignored the remark.

  “Was anyone there with you?” Vermaak asked, and Nick wondered why he was doing most of the talking.

  “No, I was alone.”

  Vermaak wrote something in his notebook.

  “Where was Mr Allegretti last night?”

  “As you can see, he had a party here.”

  “But you weren’t here, so you wouldn’t know whether he was here all the time.”

  “No, but I’m sure there are more than enough people who can vouch for his presence.”

  “How long was the deceased in his employ?”

  “Two years.”

  “And what was his position?”

  “He was a security guard at the club.”

  “Have you had problems with him in the past?”

  Nick leaned back in his chair and draped his arms over the backrest. “What kind of problems?”

  “Anything that comes to mind.”

  “Not as far as I know.”

  “Can you think of anyone who would want him dead?” Greyling asked while Vermaak scribbled in his notebook again.

  “Are you asking if he had enemies?”

  “I want you to tell us anything you know about him.”

  “He was always at work on time, and as far as I know no one ever needed to check up on him. We can ask the shift leaders, but I’m sure I would have known if there were problems. What he did in his private time I’m afraid I can’t help you with.”

  “We’d like to talk to the shift leaders and his colleagues at the club,” Vermaak took over again.

  “You’re welcome. Let me know when, and I’ll make sure everyone is present.”

  “Do you know anything about the shooting at Milnerton about three weeks ago?”

  “You’ll have to be more specific.”

  “The home of a Russian immigrant, Alexei Barkov, was targeted.”

  “And you’re asking if I know anything about it?”

  Greyling nodded.

  “I read about it in the papers. Should I know more?”

  “You security people may have talked among each other.”

  Nick smiled. “No, I’m sorry, no one talked to me about it.”

  Vermaak looked at his watch, but before he could speak, Allegretti entered the room. He was dressed in designer jeans and a T-shirt and his feet were bare. His hair was damp and slightly tousled. His eyes were bloodshot but clear and Nick realised he had snorted a line or two.

  Allegretti fell down on a chair. “What’s up?”

  “I’m Lieutenant Vermaak of the Sea Point detective branch and this is Captain Greyling. We’re here about the murder last night of one of your employees.” Vermaak opened the file on the sofa beside him. He tossed a few photos on the coffee table.

  “No, dammit, man … I haven’t had breakfast,” Allegretti said, averting his eyes.

  Nick picked up the photos. Richard was lying face down in a pool of blood. His head was turned to the side and his mouth was slightly open. There were garbage cans in the background. Next to his head was a Checkers shopping bag and what looked like vegetable peelings. Pumpkin or butternut. The shooter must have used a heavy-calibre weapon because half his skull was missing. It was overkill: his hands were tied behind his back and, judging from the position he was lying in, he seemed to have been on his knees when he was shot. Someone was sending Allegretti a message.

  “It’s tragic. But I didn’t kill him,” Allegretti said after a moment.

  “We’re not accusing you. We just want to ask you a few questions. How well did you know him?”

  “He worked for me. We didn’t share a bed.”

  “Did you ever have any problems with him?”

  Allegretti ran his hand over his head. “Not that I know of.”

  “What exactly did he do at the club?”

  Nick knew Allegretti was waiting for him to step in, but he kept silent.

  Allegretti looked at Nick. “Apparently he was a security guard.” He looked at Nick again. “Isn’t that what you said?”

  “I explained it to the gentlemen.”

  Allegretti’s foot began to bounce. “Well, why are you asking me again?”

  “Where were you last night?”

  He swung his arm in a wide arc. “Entertaining a few friends.”

  “All night?”

  “That’s what I said.”

  “Are there people who can testify that you never left the premises?”

  “I thought you said you’re not accusing me of murder. Why do I need witnesses about my movements?”

  “Just routine.”

  A young woman entered the room, wearing nothing but a tiny G-string and a T-shirt.

  “Ah, right on cue. Angel, can you tell the cops where I was last night?”

  She looked up, surprised, as if she had only just realised there were other people in the room. “Hell, I don’t even know where I was. How the fuck would I know where you were?” She walked out on the patio and began to rummage through the clothing and shoes next to the pool. Nick saw the two men’s eyes follow her as she bent over.

  Enzio rolled his eyes. “She’s never been a morning person. But don’t worry, there are plenty of others you can ask.”

  “If we could just have a few names, please.”

  Vermaak wrote down the names in his notebook.

  From the way Allegretti’s bouncing foot was picking up speed and his mouth was twitching, Nick could see he wasn’t as calm as he pretended to be. All he could pray for was that the rush would last until after the interview.

  “Do you know of anyone who would want to kill one of your employees?”

  “Do you need a reason to kill someone in this country?” Allegretti answered with a shrug. “How should I know? Maybe the man had enemies.”

  “Do you know anything about the shooting in Milnerton last week?”

  From the corner of his eye Nick saw Allegretti glance at him, but he was watching Greyling. Something wasn’t right. Why was Vermaak doing all the talking?

  “It was in the papers. Shots were fired at the house of a Russian immigrant, Alexei Barkov. Two people died during the incident.”

  “Oh yes, I read about it. I’d be pissed off if someone damaged my house like that, to say the least. There’s no more law and order in this country.”

  The two detectives looked at each other and Nick could see Greyling restraining himself. Nick got to his feet. “Captain, Lieutenant, I’m afraid you’ll have to excuse us. Mr Allegretti has another appointment. Let me know when you want to speak to the staff and I’ll arrange it.” He accompanied them to the lift, where he held
out his hand.

  Greyling hesitated just long enough to make sure Nick noticed, before he shook his hand.

  When the lift door closed, Nick went back to where Enzio was sitting. “You’d better get your shit together. Call your brother-in-law and tell him I want you at the club at four, and if you smoke, drink or snort anything before then, I’ll call those two cops myself.”

  Enzio lowered his head into his hands. “It was a bitch of a night. I hope you got rid of the rest of the people. I’m not going to entertain them today as well.”

  “They’re your guests, you get rid of them. Just make sure you and Visser are at the club at four.”

  “And you make sure that Clara moves in this weekend, or you can find yourself another job. Call her uncle if you must, and find out what the delay is.”

  Nick stepped into the lift without replying. He did not look back. In his profession you learnt to live with the thought of death. You found ways to keep it at bay, to stand at a scene and observe the smallest details without making it personal. Your salvation lay in the distance you kept. Sometimes it was more difficult than others.

  It wasn’t as if he’d known the young man very well. He wasn’t angry with the shooters, either. His anger was directed at Allegretti, Visser and the rest of them – who thought they could play a game without taking responsibility for it. Who thought a human life meant nothing.

  Except if it was their own. Then they paid through the nose to protect themselves.

  The club was quiet except for the tables outside, where a few lunch guests were lingering. Inside, the staff were preparing for the evening. The barmen were replenishing stocks. The fridges were filled with bottles of champagne: G.H. Mumm, Armand de Brignac, Veuve Clicquot, Dom Pérignon. There was enough expensive whisky to keep both Ireland and Scotland afloat, along with vodka, gin, wine, brandy. It was not only about enjoying a drink; it was important that others took note of what you were drinking.

  “Did the cops find you?” Paul asked when he saw Nick.

  “Yes, they came to Allegretti’s house, which looked like a train smash this morning. The detectives want to speak to the staff. I told them to let us know when, and we’d make sure everyone was here.”

  “They came here first, wanting to speak to the staff, but I told them to arrange it with you.” Paul lowered his voice. “You realise it could have been me, or any of us.”

  “Yes, I know. Have you had time to think about whether you saw anything suspicious last night?”

  “More suspicious than the crowd that parties here every night?”

  Nick laughed in spite of himself. “Yes, more suspicious than your regular clients.”

  “No.” Paul took a step back and crossed his arms. “You’d better get a move on. There’s shit brewing. What are you waiting for?”

  “Do you know how often people have tried to open this hornet’s nest in the past few years? It’s not so easy. I spent three years in London, gathering every possible scrap of information. Following their tracks. Believe me, it’s a wide trail, with many twists and turns. If we put our cards on the table a moment too soon, we’ll lose everything we’ve got.” Nick shook his head. “Timing is everything. It’s one of the reasons I’m here now. To make sure there are no last-minute hiccups.”

  Paul pretended to get busy, wary of being overheard.

  “I’ll be in the office if you want me,” Nick said.

  “Are you hungry?”

  “Not really, but if there’s a sandwich looking for a home, I won’t refuse.”

  At home after her visit to Melissa, Ellie put on her trainers, took her car keys and drove to Sea Point. The breeze made it just cool enough for a long run. She stopped near the Mouille Point lighthouse and ran along the Promenade, past the swimming pool, before she turned around and picked up the pace.

  When she got back to her car, she was breathing fast. She stood at the railing, stretching her arms and legs.

  The waves sent a fine white spray into the air as they crashed against the rocks, carrying the smell of the sea towards her: salt, bamboo, fish. Not fresh.

  Before heading back, she took her cellphone from the boot. As she got into the car, it rang. Nazeem Williams.

  “Mr Williams.” She felt a shiver down her spine.

  “Miss McKenna, I hope I’m not disturbing you. I know it’s Saturday, but I wondered if you have an answer for me yet. I have to go away for a few days, you see, and I want to make sure Clara is taken care of.”

  “Unfortunately I haven’t completed my risk assessment, so I can’t give you a final quotation. But we’ve made arrangements to ensure that I’ll be available if you accept our quote. I was planning to talk to you on Monday.”

  “At the moment I’m not too worried about a contract. I’m prepared to pay what you ask. You can assume it’s in order. You and Clara can sort out the details. As long as you remember that we love her very much, and that you’re working for me. If there’s anything I should know, I’d appreciate it if you were straight with me.”

  “Mr Williams, we do our best to keep our clients as safe and comfortable as possible. The firm has a good track record and we’d like to keep it that way. I’m not sure what you want to hear, but I’ll keep you informed about everything that I think is your concern.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

  They said goodbye and she pulled away from the kerb. Before she’d gone very far, the phone rang again. This time it was Clara.

  “I’m so glad you took the job. I think the two of us are going to get along just fine. Enzio is very happy. He wants me to move in tonight. We have a pre-show party at the club tonight and I definitely won’t have time to pack as well. But could you please go to the club in the meantime? Nick is there now, and Enzio will be there in a while. They want to meet you.”

  “Miss Veldman, I think there’s been a misunderstanding. I’m not sure I can arrange everything today. Hopefully I’ll be ready on Monday.”

  “Call me Clara, and please, I’m begging you. Enzio is very impatient. There’s a comfortable flat where you can stay. You can sort out everything next week, but can we sleep there tonight, please?”

  “I’m still in my running clothes.”

  “It doesn’t matter. Enzio will send his driver to fetch me, but I can’t go right now. I still have to do my hair and nails. Do you know where the club is?”

  She was almost breathless as she tried to say everything in a single sentence. Ellie assured her she’d find it.

  “Thanks. Ask for Nick Malherbe. Tell him Uncle sent you and that you’re going to help with my security. Mind you, he knows, so just tell him Uncle called.”

  Ellie felt the urge again to ask the girl’s family if they knew what she was letting herself in for.

  The club looked almost deserted when she arrived there. A waiter was clearing the tables outside. She entered through the big front door and stopped in her tracks. Wherever she looked she saw glass and crystal. Black and silver, with lime-green accents. There were three stations in the big hall, presumably for the DJs, and a stage with huge spotlights. The tables were arranged around the big dance floor. The stage was deserted. Waiters were sweeping, and draping cloths over tables.

  A slim man came out from behind a counter and asked if he could help her. His eyes were pale blue behind his glasses. His blond hair stood up a little. He seemed out of place.

  “I’m looking for Nick Malherbe.”

  “And you are?”

  “Ellie McKenna.”

  “May I ask why you’re looking for him?”

  “Clara Veldman sent me.”

  He looked her up and down, then motioned at a cluster of chairs. “If you wait here, I’ll send for him.”

  While she was waiting, she looked around. Her gaze fell on the liquor bottles behind the counter. She should bring her dad here someday, she thought. She was sure he had never seen a bottle of Glenfiddich Reserve in his life. She would save and buy him a drink here. The thought made her
smile. Then another thought struck her, and the wave broke, again, over her head. She tried to hold on to the image of her dad with a glass of expensive whisky in his hand, but she was sinking too fast.

  “Can I help?”

  She turned. The man in front of her was considerably bigger than the first one. His dark hair was cut short and showed traces of grey. He was attractive in spite of the bags under his eyes and the evidence of exposure to the elements on his skin. A scar pulled the corner of his left eye down. She guessed him to be in his late thirties or early forties. When Clara had mentioned his name, it had sounded familiar. Now she remembered that Brenda had told her about him. The man who worked for old man Allegretti, and had been sent to sort out the kids. He had an impatient way about him and a calculating look in his eyes. His strength had nothing to do with his physical size. It lay at a much subtler level. A dangerous level, she thought – you could underestimate him if you weren’t careful.

  She put out her hand. “I’m Elli McKenna from Fast Security. Mr Williams hired us to help with Clara Veldman’s security.”

  Nick looked at the young woman in front of him. She was wearing running shorts, a T-shirt and trainers. She wore her short, dark hair in a spiky style. For a brunette, she had an exceptionally pale complexion, sprinkled with freckles on her nose and cheeks. Her face looked scrubbed and clean. Her eyes were an odd bluish-green. His glance involuntarily took in her figure. His first impression was that she was slender, but at closer inspection he saw muscles under the leanness. He saw her shifting her weight to both feet. A long moment later, he shook her hand and wondered whether someone was having him on.

  “Who is this ‘us’ you’re referring to?”

  “Our company, but I’ll be taking most of the responsibility.”

  “How long have you been in the profession?”

  “I’ve only just started. But I spent four years in the police service.”

  Now Nick was sure it was a joke. Williams was sending an ex-cop to look after Allegretti’s girlfriend. But she wasn’t laughing; she didn’t look awkward or uncertain either. Her gaze was direct.

  “I told Mr Williams our security is excellent and we’d prefer to look after Miss Veldman ourselves.”

  “Mr …” she hesitated for a moment, “… Malherbe, I’m sure you know it’s one of her uncle’s conditions for her being allowed to move in with Mr Allegretti. I’ve been hired to do a job and it’s no good arguing with me about it. If you have a problem, please contact Mr Williams, or Miss Veldman.” She gave a slight smile and a dimple appeared at the corner of her mouth.