Vusi took a deep breath. 'Inspector, you were at the scene this morning, the American girl...'
'So?'
'The vehicle was used to abduct her friend. It is our only clue. She is in great danger.'
'I can't help you, I just signed the form,' said Oerson, shrugging and placing a hand on the door handle. 'Every day they come running in here, those girls down there, wanting someone to sign. I only check that everything is in order.'
Behind the door a telephone began to ring. 'My phone,' said Oerson and opened the door.
'Was everything in order with that vehicle?'
'I wouldn't have signed it if it wasn't.'
The phone continued to ring.
'But they say there is no receipt or anything.'
'Everything was correct when I signed it,' said Oerson, going into the office and closing the door.
Vusi stood there.
How could people be like that?
He pressed a hand on the closed door's frame. He must ignore them; he had a job to do. What he should do is investigate the whole process from the beginning. Where would you begin if you wanted to retrieve a vehicle from the pound? Who took your particulars; did anyone ask for an ID?
He sighed, ready to turn away, when he heard Oerson's voice say something inside that sounded familiar ...
Vusi stood spellbound.
The door opened suddenly; Oerson's face accused him. 'What are you still doing here?'
'Nothing,' said Vusi and left. Halfway down the passage he looked back. Oerson was leaning on the door to monitor his progress. Vusi kept on walking. He heard the door shut. He stopped at the stairs.
The Cat & Moose? What did Oerson have to do with that?
Coincidence?
Oerson had been there this morning, very early. A Senior Inspector from Metro.
He was the one who had found the rucksack. He was the one who had walked up with it, full of bravado; he was the one who had rummaged in it before handing it over. In the club, Benny Griessel had talked to Fransman Dekker, he had told Dekker to call Oerson about the bag of stuff they had picked up.
Oerson had signed the form. His attitude, arrogance, the sweat on his brow. Cat & Moose. Snake in the grass.
Vusi wondered whether he ought to phone Griessel first. He decided against it. Benny had a thousand things to think of. He turned and went back to Oerson's closed door.
Chapter 41
They told Fransman Dekker he could not see Alexandra Barnard now. 'Doctor says she's on medication,' as if the burning bush itself had made the pronouncement. It irritated the living hell out of him. 'You are obsessed with Doctor, fuck Doctor' - that was what someone should tell them sometime, but he did not. Benny Griessel's words today had struck home.
They say you are ambitious, so let me tell you, I threw my
It was the first time in his life that someone had spoken to him that way. It was the first time anyone had taken the trouble. He had been crapped out by the best, but that was different, usually no more than disapproval and criticism. With Griessel it was different.
'When will I be able to see her?' he asked the woman, under control now.
'Doctor says sometime after four, the medication should have worn off by then.' He checked his watch. Ten to three. He might just as well get something to eat; he was hollow inside, thirsty too. It would give him a chance to think - and what else could he do, he had let Josh and Melinda go home? 'I want to know if you leave the city,' he threatened and avoided the reproachful eyes. He had gone over to Natasha and said: 'Can you give me the contact details of all the staff?' and she gave him a look that said she knew why he wanted them.
He left the hospital feeling ravenous.
Vusi stood and listened at Oerson's door. He heard English spoken.
Vusi's hand dropped to his service pistol, took hold of it and pulled it out. He lifted his left hand to open the door and saw how it was shaking, realised his heart was beating wildly and his breathing was shallow, almost panicky.
No, I'm fine. They have nothing, no proof Oerson, inside, so smug.
It gave Vusi pause, he froze. Because all he had were suspicions and a conversation overheard. He caught a glimpse of the coming minutes: he would burst in, Oerson would deny everything, he could arrest him and he would refuse to cooperate, demand a lawyer, it could take hours and the girl would die. Oerson's word against his.
I'm coming, Oerson had said in there. Wait for me.
Vusi Ndabeni whispered a prayer. What should he do?
He shoved the pistol back in the holster, turned and ran down the passage. He would have to follow Oerson. While he was contacting Benny.
Oh God, he must not let this man slip away.
There was no parking in Long Street. A SAPS patrol vehicle was already double-parked. Griessel pulled two wheels onto the broader pavement in front of the 'Travel Centre - Safari Tour Specialists' building beside the Cat & Moose, leapt out and, seeing the metre maid a hundred metres down the street, knew he was going to get a ticket. He muttered a curse, locked the car and jogged to the entrance of the building with its garish pink and orange colours. He sidestepped a young couple at the door conversing in a foreign language. The plump girl was behind the desk, in animated discussion with two uniformed men, one of the Caledon Square patrols. He ran up to them. She did not recognise him. He had to say: 'Benny Griessel, SAPS, I was here this morning. I hear you recognised one of the men.'
Her face changed in the blink of an eye from insecure receptionist to indignant witness. 'I've just been telling your colleagues, they just waltzed in here and said they were taking the luggage, can you believe it?'
'And you recognised one of them?'
'Tried to bluff their way past me, telling me they were her friends, do they think I am stupid?'
'But you knew one of them?'
'I don't know him, but I've seen him. So I just said: 'Why don't you guys go talk to the SWAT team in there?' and they, like, stopped dead, and the next thing ...'
'A SWAT team?' Griessel asked.
'Yes, those buddies of yours guarding the luggage in there, and the next thing, they just waltzed right out again.'
'Miss, where have you seen this man?'
'Here ...' She waved her hand. Griessel wasn't sure what it was meant to include.
'In the hostel?'
'Well, he might have been in here, but I've seen him around, you know, he's in the industry, I'm sure.'
'What industry?'
'The tourist industry,' as though it went without saying.
'Look,' said Griessel, desperate that this not turn out to be a disappointment. 'A girl's life depends on the fact that we have to identify this guy, that you remember where you've seen him, so please ...'
'Really?' The responsibility came to rest on her, the indignation evaporated and enthusiasm took its place. 'Well, OK, look ... I, I know I've seen him at the cafe ...'
