Random Violence
adjusted his tie, tugging it away from his fleshy neck.
    “And the weapon?”
    “Cops reckon they forced her door with a crowbar, then used it on her. I went round there this morning. The place is a mess. And the computer is gone, I’m afraid.” He turned to her with an apologetic shrug. “Annette’s machine, the one you asked about. Yolandi had it at her house, so she could finish off the year-end. After what happened to Annette, she didn’t want to work late and drive home in the dark.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry. The robbers took it, along with everything else.”

14
    Jade phoned David as soon as she was home. Moloi answered and told her he was in a meeting with Williams. She remem-bered Moloi as an enthusiastic rookie who’d joined her father’s team shortly before she left, one of the first big intake of black recruits. Today he was a captain, David’s right-hand man and, according to him, one of the few staff he could trust to do the best possible job.
    She briefed him on the latest developments. A torched office, a missing detective, a stolen computer and one uncon-scious woman fighting for her life in intensive care. A black Mercedes with no number plates seen at Grobbelaar’s offices.
    Moloi said he would inform his boss immediately.
    With David working late, Jade had no culinary obligations in the form of cop food. After she’d updated her case notes, she began to prepare some soup for dinner. Healthy, warming soup with lentils and chopped tomatoes. She wrapped a few giant garlic cloves in tinfoil and put them in the oven to roast.
    When the soup had been bubbling for an hour, she switched off the stove, unwrapped the garlic and squeezed the soft insides out of the crispy cloves and into the pot.
    She tasted it. Superb. A delicious, subtle combination of flavors. And yet she felt something was lacking.
    Jade glanced over at the plastic container of chili powder. She pulled it closer and had a short mental battle with herself.
    “You can’t have chili with everything,” she said.
    Perhaps just a pinch would do. To liven it up a little.
    Jade stirred in a heaped teaspoon and tried the soup again. Now it was perfect.
    As she turned to the cupboard to find a bowl, she saw the fuzzy glare of headlights through the steamed-up kitchen window and then heard a honk outside her gate. She hurried to the door, expecting to see David.
    It was Robbie, sat behind the wheel of a black BMW. He leaned out of the window when he saw her. His hair was gelled back on his head. The product had tamed the tight curls into uneven waves.
    “Come here, Jade,” he called. “I want to show you something.”
    Jade grabbed the keys and locked the security door behind her. She hurried over to the gate, bracing herself against the cold and wondering with an uneasy shiver how the hell Robbie had managed to find her. Was there a GPS tracker in the ammo bag?
    He grinned at her and swung open the passenger door.
    “I got connections who tell me things,” he said.
    Jade climbed into the car. The interior smelled of expen-sive leather.
    “Your connections tell you there’s a cop living next door?” she asked.
    Robbie’s grin widened. “They told me he’s not home.” He reversed out of the driveway and kicked up gravel as he pulled away.
    “I thought you wanted to show me something in the car. Not take me somewhere in the car.” Jade tugged her seat belt across and clicked it into place.
    “We’ve got to go somewhere before I can show you.” He sniffed the air. “What the hell have you been doing? It smells like an Italian just farted in here.”
    “I was squeezing garlic cloves. For soup.”
    Robbie made a face. “There’s a bag in the back. Grab it, will you? I got us grilled chicken takeaways. Good food. Not this garlic crap. I got extra spicy for you. We can eat while we drive.”
    “Where are we going?”
    “Wait and see.”
    Robbie turned onto the main road and flattened his foot on the accelerator while

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