Silence settled over the room.
?You may go, Jamie,? said Joubert.
The detective constable dallied. ?I thought, Benny . . .?
They looked at him impatiently.
?I thought about how they got your daughter?s address. And your cell phone number. All that stuff . . .?
?What are you trying to say??
?They must have phoned him. Carlos?s brother. Not just sent faxes.?
?Yes??
?He must have had a cell phone, Commissioner. The brother. And you get missed calls and received calls and dialed numbers.?
It took them a while to grasp what he meant.
?Fuck,? said Griessel and got up.
?Sorry, Benny,? said Keyter and ducked, but Griessel was already past him, heading for the door.
By 12:3
they had reached Brandvlei and he decided to stop at a cafe with a concrete table under a thatched roof. Colored children played barefoot in the dust.
Carla woke up and asked him where they were. Griessel told her. She looked at the cafe.
?Do you want to eat something??
?Not really.?
?Let?s have something to drink.?
?Okay.?
He got out and waited for her. It was boiling hot outside the car. She put on trainers before getting out, stretched and came around the car. She was wearing a short-sleeved blouse and bleached jeans. His lovely daughter. They sat at one of the concrete tables. It was slightly cooler under the thatch.
He saw her watching the colored children with their wire cars. He wondered what she was thinking.
?How far is it to Upington still??
?About a hundred and fifty to Kenhardt, another seventy to Keimoes and then maybe fifty to Upington. Just under three hundred,? he quickly added up.
A colored woman brought them single-page menus. At the top of the white laminated page was printed
There was an amateurish palm tree alongside the words. Carla ordered a white Grapetiser. Griessel said: ?Make that two.?
As the woman walked away he said, ?I?ve never had Grapetiser before.?
?Never??
?If it didn?t go with brandy, I wasn?t interested.?
She smiled, but it didn?t extend further than the corners of her mouth.
?This is another universe, here,? she said and looked up the main street.
?It is.?
?Do you think you will find something in Upington??
?Perhaps.?
?But why, Dad? What?s the use??
He made a gesture with his hand that said he didn?t know himself. ?I don?t know, Carla. It?s the way I am. That?s why I am a detective. I want to know the reasons. And the facts. I want to understand. Even if it won?t necessarily make a difference. Loose ends . . . I don?t like them.?
?Weird,? she said. She put out her hand to him and wiggled her fingers under his. ?But wonderful.?
He called the numbers on Cesar Sangrenegra?s received calls list on the speakerphone in Joubert?s office. With the first three he got voice mailboxes in Spanish. The fourth rang and rang and rang. Eventually it switched over to a cell phone messaging service.
?Hello, this is Bushy. When I?ve caught the crooks, I will phone you back.?
?I won?t go to hell for Carlos,? said Christine. ?Because I saw the look in his eyes when he saw Sonia. And I know God will forgive me for being a sex worker. And I know he will understand that I had to draw the blood. And take the money.? She looked at the minister. He didn?t want to assent to that.
?But He punished everyone for Carla Griessel.? She opened the second newspaper clipping. The headline read: MASSIVE COP CORRUPTION SCANDAL.
?Carlos?s brother and his bodyguards. The Artemis man. All dead. And these policemen are going to jail,? she said, and tapped the two photos with the report. ?But what about me??
?I didn?t even know them,? said Bushy Bezuidenhout.
