?The whole sequence in the interrogation room is on video, Commissioner. I just asked to be alone with the suspect and, once they had left, I just looked at him. For a long time. Then I said: ?I know you can?t help it. I understand.? And then he began to talk.?
?Full confession.?
?Yes, Sup. All three of the women. Details that were not in the newspapers. We?ve got him, whoever he gets as his lawyer. And there?s a previous conviction. Rape. Four years ago in Montagu.?
?And the only witness of the mannequin incident is Cliffy Mketsu??
?That?s right, Matt.?
All four looked across at the double doors that led to the ICU.
?Okay,? said the head of Investigation. ?Good work, Benny. Really good work . . .?
The double doors opened. A doctor approached them; such a young man that he looked as if he should still be at university. There were bloodstains on his green theater overalls.
?He will be alright,? said the doctor.
?Are you sure?? asked Griessel.
The doctor nodded. ?He was very, very lucky. The bullet missed nearly everything, but badly damaged the S4 area of his left lung. That is the tip of the upper lobe, anterior segment. There is a possibility that we will have to remove it, just a small piece, but we will decide once he has stabilized.?
thought Griessel. Why did they always talk about
as if they belonged to some secret organization?
?That?s good news,? said the commissioner without conviction.
?Oh, and we have a message for a Benny.?
?That?s me.?
?He says the guy fell badly against the cash register.?
All four stared at the doctor with great interest. ?The cash register?? asked Griessel.
?Yes.?
?Do me a favor, Doc. Tell him it was the mannequin.?
?The mannequin.?
?Yes. Tell him the man fell against the mannequin and the mannequin fell on the cash register.?
?I will tell him.?
?Thanks, Doc,? said Griessel, and turned to the commissioner, who nodded and turned away.
He bought a Zinger burger and a can of Fanta Orange at KFC and took them home. He sat on his ?sitting-room? floor eating without pleasure. It was the fatigue, the after-effects of adrenaline. Also, the things waiting in the back of his mind that he did not want to think about. So he concentrated on the food. The Zinger didn?t satisfy his hunger. He should have ordered chips, but he didn?t like KFC?s chips. The children ate them with gusto. The children even ate McDonald?s thin cardboard chips with pleasure, but he could not. Steers?s chips, yes. Steers?s big fat barbecue- seasoned chips. Steers?s burgers were also better than anything else. Decent food. But he didn?t know where the nearest Steers was and he wasn?t sure if they would still be open at this time. The Zinger was finished and he had sauce on his fingers.
He wanted to toss the plastic bag and empty carton container in the bin, but remembered he didn?t have a bin. He sighed. He would have to shower?he still had some of Reyneke?s and Cliffy?s blood on him.
Would you buy furniture for just six months? He couldn?t eat on the floor for six fucking months. Or come home to such a barren place. Surely he was entitled to a chair or two. A small television. But first, get out of these clothes and shower and then he could sit on his bed and make a list for tomorrow. Saturday. He was off this weekend.
Terrifying. Two whole days. Open. Perhaps he ought to go to the office and get his paperwork up to date.
He washed his hands under the kitchen tap, put the carton and the can and the used paper serviette into the red and white plastic packet and put it in a corner of the kitchen. He climbed the stairs while unbuttoning his shirt. Thank God they didn?t have to wear jacket and tie anymore. When he started with Murder and Robbery it was suits.
Where was Anna tonight?
The plastic shower curtain was torn in one corner and the water leaked onto the floor. It had a faded pattern of fish. He would have to get a bathmat as well. A new shower curtain too. He washed his hair and soaped his body. Rinsed off in the lovely hot, strong stream of water.
When he turned off the taps he heard his cell phone ringing. He grabbed the towel, rubbed it quickly over his head, took three strides to the bed and snatched it up.
?Griessel.?
?Are you sober, Benny??
Anna.
?Yes.? He wanted to protest at her question, wanted to be angry, but he knew he had no right.
