‘I will.’
She parked. I took out the envelope from one of Maggie T.’s letters. ‘There’s a bullet casing in the envelope. Do you know someone who can look at it? Anything. Fingerprints, type of rifle …’
‘Maybe. Give me the Jeep’s licence number too.’ She took a pen out of her jacket pocket. I repeated the number and she wrote it on the envelope. Then she got out. So did I. I looked around very thoroughly. Nothing. Jeanette went around to the boot. She opened it, rummaged around and turned to me with a white-and-blue plastic shopping bag.
‘Extra magazine, a hundred rounds, shoulder holster. I assume you haven’t found your cell phone?’
‘No.’
‘There’s a new one in there. I want to know what’s happening. Pay-as-you-go with four hundred rands’ worth of airtime. And money. Ten thousand in hundred-rand notes. It’s a shithouse full of money, Lemmer. I want receipts.’
‘I’ll do what I can.’
She handed me the bag formally.
‘Thanks, Jeanette.’
‘Nothing to thank me for. Now listen up. Get these motherfuckers, no matter what it takes. But you stay out of trouble with the police. If they catch you with the Glock, you’re going back to jail. You know that.’
‘Yes, Mother.’
‘Lemmer, I’m serious.’
‘I know.’
‘OK,’ she said and turned away. ‘Jeanette …’
She stopped irritably and wiped away perspiration. ‘What?’
‘If she’s so rich, why did she take the cheapest option?’
‘Who? Emma?’
‘Yes.’
‘You think you’re the cheapest option?’
‘I know I am.’
She shook her head. ‘You know nothing. She came in and said she wanted the best. Money no object.’
I waited for her to laugh, tell me she was joking. It didn’t happen.
She saw my confusion. ‘I’m serious, Lemmer.’
‘And you gave me the job?’
‘I gave you the job.’
‘You’re pulling my leg.’
‘In this heat?’
She stood for a moment and then she opened her door. ‘Goodbye, Lemmer. Happy New Year.’
‘No kiss or cuddle today?’
‘Fuck off, Lemmer,’ she said, and got into the Merc, but she couldn’t hide her smile. Then she drove off without once looking back.
I walked to the hospital reception desk and asked them what their phone number was. I keyed it into my new cell phone. Then I went to intensive care, where Barry Minnaar was already on duty opposite the two policemen. ‘Lonely already?’ he said as I approached.
I nodded in the direction of the Law. ‘Did the SAPS have anything to say?’
‘A lot. They phoned their boss.’
‘Phatudi?’
‘That’s the one.’
‘He’ll huff and puff, but he won’t blow the house down.’
Barry took a folded document out of his shirt pocket. ‘Copy of Le Roux’s contract. Phatudi can huff all he likes.’
‘We met some friends in the parking lot. Black Jeep Grand Cherokee, TWS 519 GP. Driver is white, short dark brown hair, thirty-something. Passenger hid his face.’
‘Did you say goodbye?’
‘Didn’t have time. I think the friendship is over.’
‘Good thing you told me.’
‘I need your numbers, Barry,’ I said with my cell phone ready.
He gave them to me. Then I fetched my stuff from the VIP suite.
29
The guard at the Mohlolobe gate was new. Sidney. Security Official. I asked him when Edwin would be on duty again.
‘Edwin is gone.’
‘Gone?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Nobody knows where he is.’
I drove in and went to reception. It took half an hour because I had to wait for a herd of elephants to cross the road. Four bulls, eight cows and four calves. They were in no hurry. They looked down at the Audi with utter disdain for
Sue-zin was at her post, helping a middle-aged American settle his bill. She flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder with practised ease, smiled with those perfect teeth as she said, ‘Of course, Mr Bradley, it’s a pleasure, Mr Bradley.’ As he walked away she looked up and saw me. The smile turned into a concerned frown.
‘Meneer Lemmer!’ She addressed me in Afrikaans, amazingly. She came out from behind the desk.
‘Hello, Susan.’
‘We were so shocked to hear about Miss le Roux …’ She came and stood close to me.
‘Oh. Who told you?’
‘Inspector Phatudi was here.’
‘Naturally.’
‘How is she?’
‘A little better.’
‘Is she going to be OK?’
‘It’s too early to tell.’
Susan put her hand on my arm. ‘And you, Mr Lemmer, are you OK?’ With heartfelt concern. She was good, I had to admit.
‘I’m fine.’
‘We don’t even know what happened.’
‘They wanted to hijack the car.’
Her hand went from my arm to her mouth. ‘A carjacking. Around here!’
‘Susan, I’m looking for Edwin, the man at the gate.’
She hesitated and then said more formally, ‘You should speak to Greg.’
‘Where can I find him?’
She took me to Greg. The hospitality manager’s office. He was the plump one with thinning blond hair and a red complexion.
‘He’s in there,’ she said. ‘See you later?’
‘Thanks, Susan.’
She walked away. Her bottom was pert in the khaki trousers. She knew it.
Greg wasn’t really happy to see me. He was edgy and his hands rearranged the desk incessantly. At first he made sympathetic noises about ‘the accident’, but his heart wasn’t in it. No wonder they kept him in an office. I
