He hesitated before answering. He looked from the politician to the Western Cape chief of police and then he said: ?The one thing that is no longer available, Commissioner. Time.?
?And apart from that?? His tone said that was not the answer he had wanted.
?What Benny is saying is that this sort of case is complicated. The problem is lack of an obvious motive,? said Matt Joubert.
?That?s right,? said Griessel. ?We don?t know why he is doing it.?
?Why would anyone do it?? asked le Grange. ?Surely it?s to protect children. That?s obvious.?
?Motive,? said John Afrika, ?is usually an identifier, Mr. le Grange. If the assegai man?s motive is purely to protect children, that identifies him as one of about ten million concerned men in this country. Everyone wants to protect children, but only one is committing murder to do so. What makes him different? Why did he choose this way? That is what we need to know.?
?There are a few things that would help,? said Griessel.
Everyone looked at him.
?We need to know if Enver Davids was the first one. As far as we know, he is the first in the Western Cape. But crime against children is everywhere. Perhaps he started somewhere else.?
?What would that help?? asked le Grange.
?The first one could be significant. The first one would be personal. Personal vengeance. And then he decides he likes it. Maybe. We must consider it. The second thing that could help is other assegai murders or attacks. It?s a unique weapon. The state pathologist says they don?t see them anymore. You don?t buy a new assegai at the Seven-Eleven. Why did he go to the trouble of getting one? Then there is the question of where he got it. Professor Pagel says Zululand. Could our colleagues in Durban help? Do they know who makes and sells them? Could they ask the questions? And the last thing we can do is draw up a list of all the reported crimes against children in the past eighteen months. Particularly those where the suspects have not been apprehended.?
?Do you think he?s taking revenge?? asked Advocate le Grange.
?Just another possibility,? said Griessel. ?We must consider them all.?
?There are hundreds of cases,? said the commissioner.
?That is why Benny said time is the one thing he needs,? said Matt Joubert.
?Damn,? said le Grange.
?Amen,? said John Afrika.
The southeaster was blowing so hard they had to run doubled over to their cars.
?You did well in there, Benny,? shouted Joubert above the roar of the wind.
?So did you.? And then: ?You know, if you drank more, you too could have been an inspector now.?
?Instead of a senior superintendent that has to deal with all this political shit??
?Exactly.?
Joubert laughed. ?That?s one way to look at it.?
They reached Griessel?s car. ?I?m going to look in on Cliffy quickly,? he said.
?I?m coming too. See you there.?
Gently he pushed open the door of the hospital room and saw them sitting there?the woman and two children around the bed, all bathed in the yellow pool of the bedside lamp. Mketsu?s wife holding his hand, the children on either side, their eyes on their wounded father. And Cliffy lying there with a soft smile, busy telling them something.
Griessel stopped, reluctant to intrude. And something else, a consciousness of loss, of envy, but Cliffy saw him and his smile broadened and he said, ?Come in, Benny.?
On the threshold of his flat was a small glass vase with a single, unfamiliar red flower. And a small note under the vase, folded twice.
He picked it up, opened the letter and hope welled up in him. Anna?
At the bottom.
Fuck. He looked down the passage in the direction of 1
6. All was quiet. Somewhere he could hear a television. He unlocked his door quickly and went in, closing it softly. He placed the vase on the breakfast bar. He read the note again, crumpled it up and tossed it in his new rubbish bin. Not the sort of thing he wanted his children to see lying around tomorrow.
His sitting-room suite. He stood back and inspected it. Tried to see it through his children?s eyes. The place looked less barren at least, more homely. He sat down in a chair. Not too bad. He stood up and went and lay down on the couch with a faint stirring of pleasure. He felt weary, felt like closing his eyes.
Long day. The seventh since he had last had a drink.
Seven days. Only a hundred and seventy-three to go.
He thought of the Fireman?s Arms and his mind cajoling him: just one drink. He thought about Cliffy?s family. The fucking thing was that he couldn?t be sure his family would ever be like that again. Anna and himself and Carla and Fritz. How did you get that back? How did you build that sort of bond?
