?You better come talk to the girl.?
?The girl??
?Nineteen. And pretty.? Mohammed gestured with his head to the door. He walked ahead.
She was sitting in the dining room with her head in her hands. There was blood on her arms. Griessel walked around the table and pulled out the chair beside her and sat down. Mohammed stood behind him.
?Miss Ravens,? said Mohammed softly.
She raised her head from her hands and looked at Griessel. He could see she was pretty, a delicate face with deep, dark, nearly black eyes.
?Good evening,? he said.
She just nodded.
?My name is Benny Griessel.?
No reaction.
?Miss Ravens, this inspector has been working on the assegai case. Tell him about the others,? said Mohammed.
?It was me,? she said. Griessel saw her eyes were unfocused. Her hands trembled slightly.
?Who is the man in there?? he asked.
?That?s my dada.?
?You did that??
She nodded. ?I did.?
?Why??
She slowly blinked her big eyes.
?What did he do??
She was looking at Griessel but he wasn?t sure she was seeing him. When she spoke there was surprising strength in her voice, as if it belonged to someone else. ?He would come and sleep with me. For twelve years. And I wasn?t allowed to tell anyone.?
Griessel could hear the anger.
?And then you read about the man with the assegai??
?It?s not a man. It?s a woman. It?s me.?
?I told you,? said Mohammed.
?Where did you get this assegai??
?At the station.?
?Which station??
?The station in Cape Town.?
?At the station flea market??
She nodded.
?When did you buy it??
?Yesterday.?
?Yesterday?? queried Mohammed.
?And then you waited for him to come home tonight??
?He wouldn?t stop. I asked him to stop. I asked him nicely.?
?Did you two live here alone??
?My mother died. Twelve years ago.?
?Miss Ravens, if you only bought the assegai yesterday, how could you have killed the other people??
Her black eyes moved over Griessel?s face. Then she looked away. ?I saw it on TV. Then I knew. It?s me.?
He put out a hand and rested it on her shoulder. She jerked away and in her eyes he saw momentary fear. Or hate, he couldn?t differentiate. He dropped his hand.
?I called SS,? said Mohammed quietly behind him.
?That?s good, Anwar,? he said. Social Services could handle her better. He rose and led Mohammed out by the elbow. In the kitchen, beside the body, he said: ?Watch her. Don?t leave her alone.?
Before Mohammed could reply, they heard Pagel?s voice in the door. ?Evening, Nikita, evening, Anwar.?
?Evening, Prof.?
The pathologist was in evening wear with his case in his hand. He shuffled past the video team and squatted down beside the man on the floor.
