He watched her hurry up the steps. His daughter with the dark hair and strange eyes that she had inherited from him.
He opened the envelope. There were photographs in it, the family picture they had taken two years ago at the school bazaar. Anna?s smile was forced. His was lopsided?not quite sober that night. But there were all four of them, together.
He turned the picture over.
In Carla?s pretty, curving handwriting, followed by a tiny heart.
?That December I worked, pregnant or not. I phoned home and said I would be staying. I wasn?t going home to Upington, or with them to Hartenbos. My father was not happy. He drove through to Bloemfontein to come and pray for me. I was petrified he would see that I was pregnant, but he didn?t; he was too busy with other things in his head. I told him I would stay in an outside room at Kallie and Colin?s place, as I was helping them with all the year-end functions, weddings and company do?s for employees and there weren?t so many students to help. I wanted to make good money, so that I would be more financially independent.
?That was the last time I saw him. He kissed me on the cheek before he left and that was the closest he ever came to his granddaughter.
?Kallie caught me throwing up one morning in January. He had brought my breakfast to the outside room and he stood and watched me vomiting in the toilet. Then he said: ?You?re preggies, sweetheart,? and when I didn?t reply he said, ?What are you going to do??
?I told him I was going to have the baby. It was the first time that I really knew it myself. I know it?s weird, but with Viljoen and my father and everything . . . Until that moment only I knew. It was kind of unreal. Like a dream, and maybe I thought I would wake up, or the baby would just go away on its own or something. I didn?t want to think about it, I just wanted to go on.
?Then he asked if I would put the baby up for adoption, and I said I don?t know but I said I was going to Cape Town at the end of the month, so would they please give me all the shifts they could? So he asked me if I knew what I was doing and I said no, I didn?t know what I was doing, because it was all rather new to me.
?They saw me off at Hoffman Square, with a present for the baby, a little blue babygro and booties and little shoes and bibs and an envelope for me?a Christmas bonus, they said. And they gave me a few names of gay friends they had in Cape Town in case I needed help.
?I cried that day, all the way to Colesberg. That was when I felt Sonia kick for the first time, as if to say, that?s enough, we must pull ourselves together, we would be okay. Then I knew that I would not give her up.?
Griessel found what he was searching for in the three lab reports. He walked over to Matt Joubert?s office and waited for the senior superintendent to finish on the telephone.
?The forensic report does not exclude an assegai,? Joubert was saying into the instrument, ?but they are doing more tests, and it will take time. You will have to call back in a day or two. Right. You?re welcome. Thanks. ?Bye.?
He looked up at Griessel. ?It?s good to have you back, Benny. How are you feeling??
?Frighteningly sober. What was that about an assegai??
?That Enver Davids thing. Suddenly the
has all these questions. I can see trouble coming.?
Griessel put the lab reports down in front of Joubert and said, ?The bastard is picking them up at Woolworths. Friday afternoons. Look here, I missed it because I didn?t know what I was looking for, but Forensics analyzed the trash cans of all three victims and in two of them there are Woolies bags and till slips and in the third one just a till slip, but all three were there, at the one on the Waterfront on the Friday of the murders between . . . er . . . half- past four and seven o?clock.?
Joubert examined the reports. ?It?s thin, Benny.?
?I know, but this morning I heard expert witnesses, Matt. Seems to me only old married people like us think a supermarket is a place to buy groceries.?
?Explain,? said Joubert, wondering how long this light would keep burning in Griessel?s eyes.
Thobela found a public phone in the Church Street Mall that worked with coins and thumbed through the tattered phone book for the number of the University of Cape Town Psychology Department. He called and asked for Professor David Ackerman.
?He is on ward rounds. In what connection is this??
?I am researching an article on crimes against children. I have just a few questions.?
?With which publication are you??
?I am freelance.?
?Professor Ackerman is very busy . . .?
?I only need a few minutes.?
?I will have to phone you back, sir.?
?I?m going to be in and out?can I call tomorrow??
?To whom am I speaking??
?Pakamile,? he said. ?Pakamile Nzuluwazi.?
16.
At first the Cape was not good to her.
For one, the wind blew for days on end, a storm-strength southeaster. Then they stole her only suitcase at
