Durban had one virtue. The nights were warm. Kramer and Zondi slept in the car on the beach and were quite comfortable.
13
A high whine came from the print glazer in a corner of Photographic. Prinsloo slouched over and spat on the revolving chrome-plated drum. His saliva jittered into steam.
“Hot enough-we can begin,” he said.
Van Niekerk took a handful of small prints from the sink and handed it over.
“Not too many at once, Willie, I’ve got to lay them out on this cloth belt and it moves slowly.”
“Going to take a long time?”
“Ja.”
“He wants them by ten.”
“So? Your Lieutenant bloody Kramer is going to learn he can’t do everything in a hurry. And next time he’ll ask the blokes with the original negative for his prints.”
Van Niekerk took a snack from his left nostril unnoticed.
“Zondi’s the one who gets on my wick,” he grumbled. “What’s this with him and Kramer?”
Prinsloo shrugged.
“I can let you have them in batches if that’s any good,” he said, pulling over the guillotine ready to trim off the excess paper.
“Fine.”
“You can let me have some more now.”
“I slept here last night.”
“Oh, yes? He works you hard, does he?”
“Non-stop. And you should see him this morning, you would think he was up against the clock.”
“His nerves must be shot to hell.”
“Dead jumpy.”
Kramer cleared his throat two feet behind them.
Moosa was almost inconsolable. But Zondi managed it in the end.
“Where should I go, Sergeant?” he asked, accepting the photograph of Lenny.
“You can forget about Trichaard Street, Gershwin’s given it a bad name for a while. I’ve got some people at the market, the station, the beer halls. I don’t know-where you like.”
“I see. It’s all hands to the wheel.”
“What’s that?”
“You’re calling in all of us.”
“Sure, you’ve got it.”
“Then I might take a little stroll over towards the river. I’ve not seen that part for some time.”
“You won’t see much either. It’s white now.”
“Oh dear.”
“But go where you like, man. Just keep your eye on the cars-that’s the important thing. If you see him in one, get the number and ring in.”
“But will that rude Boer master answer me?”
“I’ll be there.”
“And the name? I meant to write it down.”
“Leon Francis-they call him Lenny. He was seen leaving his place in a blue suit. Five foot six.”
“Thank you.”
“So long then.”
Moosa got up to open the door for him.
“One minute, Moosa, another thing. You haven’t gone talking big all over the place, have you? Nobody knows?”
“Indeed to goodness, no! Allah forbid.”
But Zondi left still pondering the very different reception he had had from Gogol-and the knowing little wink.
Kramer was waiting for him in the Chev at the corner.
“Get in, man, we haven’t got all day. I want you for a job.”
They drove off.
“Moosa’s talked.”
“Let him. It’s a good idea to let them think we have to use Moosa.”
“We’ll still pay him, boss?”
“Why not? People may tell him things, revenge or some crap like that. Make it piece rates.”
“I’m sorry, boss.”
“I tell you Moosa was a good idea. But didn’t you pick up anything from the others?”
“Nothing.”
“Or weren’t they saying?”
“They are very worried about something, but I do not think they have ever seen this Lenny before.”
“Man, this is strange, Zondi. It was the same with mine. They would tell me if they knew-even just for protection.”
“Quite so, boss. A bad spirit is hiding here; it is like when the birds in the bush go quiet and yet there has been no sound.”
“Of course, I don’t think Lenny operated in Trekkersburg and we didn’t give them the link-up. So that leaves us with trying the pie-cart trick again. Remember his mother said that she had asked him to put flowers for her at the crematorium?”
“Mr Abbott he said no flowers.”
“That was only while he was there, man. Lenny could have come by later.”
Zondi put a Lucky in Kramer’s mouth and lit it. He took one for himself.
“So that is why we go this road?”
“Yes, I want you to have a word with the boys there. The ones who work in the garden. Ach, what’s the matter, man?”
“That fellow would not put flowers for his mother-he’s a bad one.”
“It would be hard for him not to do it if she asked him.”
“But I thought he was frightened to come here?”
“You’ve got to be careful, Zondi, you’re mixing up what we think with what we know.”
“But boss-”
Kramer thumped the steering wheel with his fist.
“Listen, kaffir, ” he bellowed. “We’ve got nothing on this case worth a pot full of snot and we’ve got until tonight to get somewhere or I’m in trouble. You too.”
Zondi immersed himself in his fingernails until they arrived at the crematorium.
“Wait,” Kramer said, and went into the building.
He found the white-coated superintendent coming out of his office.
“Good morning, I’m Mr Byers, can I help you?”
“CID, Mr Byers. Can my boy ask yours some questions?”
“He’s not going to upset them, is he? They’re hard enough to get out here on the hill.”
“No, the inquiry has nothing to do with them.”
“Go ahead then. I was just going to ask where the tea had got to-would you like some while he’s busy?”
Kramer hesitated. He was still angry, but angry now at himself.
“Ta, I’d like some. I’m Lieutenant Kramer, by the way.”
“Ah! Just the chap I want to see, I’m told. But you go and get rid of the boy first.”
