effeminate by South African standards.”
“No girl friends, then?”
“Hardly had time, old boy. Poor little blighter.”
“He had a month, Captain. I’ve known a bloke set himself up in a week.”
“The devil he did.”
The great door stood wide and the rain tapped its way towards the Persian carpet.
“One more thing, if I may, Captain.”
“Fire away.”
“Was ‘sissy’ really the word for Master Cutler?”
Jarvis looked wary, then broke out a man-to-man smile.
“Deuced difficult to tell ’em apart these days,” he murmured. “But that’s not for publication.”
They shook hands silently.
As Kramer ran through the wet to his car, he turned once to look back at the house. Remembering then that he had, in fact, seen a third English film: one about a country mansion which became haunted. Not, however, by the ghost of a clean-living boy who told dirty stories-nor of a homosexual youth who left his socks in girls’ beds. Man, it had been dull.
10
L UNCH BREAK WAS almost over when the call finally came through. Lisbet snatched up the receiver, aware that the secretary had paused for only a brief exchange with a raucous pupil outside the office door.
“Trompie? Listen hard because I haven’t got time to repeat anything. It’s the magazine-Boetie has a letter in the latest issue. No date but you can work out roughly when it was written. This is what it says:
“‘Dear Sir, I think the Detective Club is very good. But I have a complaint. The new station commander has chased us all away. He says it is not children’s work. Now there is just me left of the Midnight Leopards. Of course he is wrong, but he will not listen. I think I have found a way of proving to him a big mistake has been made. Only I do not have all the right information yet. Respectfully yours,’ et cetera.
“And underneath it says: ‘Leave this matter to me, old pal. Send me the name of the police officer concerned and I will pass it on to the brigadier for his attention. Keep up the good work!’ ”
Lisbet nodded.
“That’s just what I thought, Trompie. Yes, I’ll be in all evening. Why?”
The line went frustratingly dead.
Pembrook, who had been typing to Zondi’s dictation, dragged the sheet of paper out of the machine and handed it to Kramer.
“Word for word, Sergeant?”
Zondi, still toying with the telephone’s extra earpiece, shrugged modestly; it had not been much to memorize. The mission where he had been educated could never afford to issue textbooks.
“That’s quite a trick he’s got there,” Pembrook observed. “Where did he pick it up?”
“ Ach, from a nun.”
“Hey?”
“Back to work, Johnny-what do you make of this letter?”
“It’s ambiguous, isn’t it, sir? I can see how the magazine read it so the ‘big mistake’ was referring to the station commander’s attitude. I can also see Boetie could have been referring to some other ‘big mistake.’ ”
“Like the wrong verdict at an inquest?”
“Yes, sir. But we have no evidence to-”
“Look at his last line, man. That could mean he didn’t have, either.”
Pembrook rubbed his brow and gave it a couple of thumps.
“Sorry, I can’t think straight,” he said. “This cold is a bastard. Can Zondi go out for some tissues?”
“In a minute. First tell me if you have any ideas, Mr. Memory.”
“Many, boss.”
“Let’s hear them, then.”
Kramer offered a cigarette to Pembrook, which was politely refused, and tossed another over to the stool in the corner. Zondi caught it in his hat and lit up. He enjoyed an audience but kept his tone respectful.
“My woman gave me two boys at one time thirteen years ago, boss. I have studied their ways-and the ways of others. From when they suck the breast until they are so high, there is no trouble for them in this world. It does not matter if their singing is like a dog crying to the spirits. Or if the drawing they make in the sand is like where the dung beetle has been running. Then one month they are not children. Because why? Because soon they will have time to find their own bread; we have told them this is so, we have said you must learn well in school now, we have shaken our finger at childish things. There is a big exam for the high school and they must pass it. This is the change, boss, they do not like to try something unless they can do it nicely. They do not like people to laugh at them.”
He paused.
“Is it the same for white children, boss?”
“Can’t remember. Certainly they lose confidence for a while.”
“But it is the laughing that is the big matter here. You have asked why the little master did not go to the police straightaway-maybe this is what he feared.”
Pembrook sighed, caught Kramer’s eyes, and turned it into a dry cough. Zondi clicked his tongue sympathetically before going on.
“There is also another idea I have been thinking. If the little master had seen this foreigner being killed, he would have to admit to the policemen that he was trespassing on private property.”
“So what? That would be overlooked under the circumstances.”
“Unless they knew already there had been a murder, boss. They would laugh and say,‘What the hell were you doing there, you little bugger? Didn’t we tell you to keep away from Greenside?’ ”
It was an impertinent bit of mimicry.
“Wait a minute!”
Kramer jumped up with an expression of dawning comprehension. He dithered a moment and then disappeared from the room.
Zondi took it very calmly, concentrating on smoking his cigarette right down to the pinch of his forefinger and thumb. Pembrook watched him do it, wincing once, and then blew his nose on a piece of notepaper.
The rain stopped.
Nothing else happened.
Until Kramer returned with a box of paper tissues that he flung at Pembrook.
“Hell, sir! But you shouldn’t have gone out for-”
“Oh, belt up. I wanted a walk. Why not? You owe me thirty-five cents.”
“I’ll-”
“Later, man. I’ve got it all worked out.”
“ All of it?”
“Enough. One thing I want to check first, then I’ll tell you. Meantime you book yourself a seat on the five o’clock plane from Durban.”
“Where to, sir?”
“Jo’burg-where else? Got a nice little girlie lined up for you there. Try not to give her your cold.”
Providence did Kramer proud. The house and grounds were completely deserted, apart from the driver; having dropped off Captain and Mrs. Jarvis at their weekly bridge party, he was taking his time over waxing the Rover round the back. The other servants were out visiting.
Kramer left Zondi to have a quiet word with him, and began his tour of the property’s perimeter. This
