the valley, said Clare.
His hand went instinctively to his empty back pocket.
You dropped the card? asked Clare.
I didnt drop nothing, he said.
What were you doing up there, Chadley? asked Clare.
I wasntthere, he said.
So how did this get into Sylvan Estate?
Maybe I lost it. DesRays hands went round her belly, a flash in her eyes. Maybe somebody picked it up.
Like I say, why you fucking with us? He stepped forwards, but Clare didnt move. His eyes were bloodshot, and on his breath was the smell of decay of an amphetamine user.
Chadley, dyou know a girl called Rosa Wagner? said Clare. She didntstep back, didnt drop her gaze. Theres traces of her blood close to where this card was found. It would help if you told me what you were doing up there.
I did fuck-all, so fuck you. He fumbled in his pockets for a lighter. Leaned over and took a box of cigarettes out of the shopping bag on the table.
There were a couple of Sweetie Pie wrappers there too, said Clare. She lifted a shopping bagfrom the mess on the table. Inside it were Nik Naks, a Sweetie Pie, a bottle of milk, a cash slip.
The KwikShop on Valley Road, she said. Thats far from here.
Its pregnant women. You mos know what theyre like. Want weird stuff all the time.
Clare smoothed out the slip. So you walked up there at three this morning? She pocketed the receipt.
I know my rights, said DesRay. You cant come in hereand take my stuff without a warrant.
Should I get one? asked Clare.
DesRay shrugged and the sweater shed tied around her shoulders slipped, exposing her skinny upper arms. Five fading fingerprints on each.
Id like to know what you and your boyfriend were doing up there, said Clare.
Wes mos family, said Chadley.
So thats why shes got those bruises? asked Clare.
DesRay covered her upper armswith her hands.
Chadley was with me all the time. Her face mutinous.
You were both up there, said Clare.
You cant prove fuck-all, lady, said DesRay. She looked at Chadley, her eyes question marks.
Not yet, said Clare. But I soon will.
Clare headed home, past narrow streets, cramped cul-de-sacs and graffitied walls. This is where he was most at home. This was Riedwaan Faizals territory.
23
The Gang Unit building had a state-of-the-art security system that had never worked. Riedwaan Faizal went through the motions anyway
He placed his yellowed index finger on the scanner. It flashed red. He did it again. And a third time.
State-of-the-art se moer, Captain. The security guard spat, lifting the heavy boom. Welcome back. Whereve you been, Captain?
Joburg, said Riedwaan.
He hadbeen awake all night. His mother, spry as a city sparrow, had fractured her hip while he was away. Leaving suddenly to see her would have broken his cover and the precarious trust he had built with his twitchy source. So hed done what had already cost him a marriage: he put work before family. The most he could get from his job was a bullet in the head. But with family came reproach and yearningand the long, slow twisting of the heart.
Still, he had come back, and last night hed been at her bedside, her bony hand in his, the hollow feeling in his chest growing as he watched her fade. And hed broken his promise to Clare. He was in shit.
The building was only a year old, but the brass plaque commemorating its opening had not been polished in twelve months. The police commissioner whohad done the honours was now serving fifteen years for racketeering. Or corruption; Riedwaan could never remember which, and in the end it didnt really matter.
He took out his phone as he pushed the revolving doors open, and dialled Clares number. He counted the rings as he walked past empty offices along the Gang Unit corridor. Eight offices, eight rings. The specialised units bleeding, bleeding.What hed worked for twenty years to create was a husk of the dream he had started out with.
Clare was not picking up.
He kicked open the door to his empty office. His desk was a mess. Coffee cups, ashtrays, no
His hand went instinctively to his empty back pocket.
You dropped the card? asked Clare.
I didnt drop nothing, he said.
What were you doing up there, Chadley? asked Clare.
I wasntthere, he said.
So how did this get into Sylvan Estate?
Maybe I lost it. DesRays hands went round her belly, a flash in her eyes. Maybe somebody picked it up.
Like I say, why you fucking with us? He stepped forwards, but Clare didnt move. His eyes were bloodshot, and on his breath was the smell of decay of an amphetamine user.
Chadley, dyou know a girl called Rosa Wagner? said Clare. She didntstep back, didnt drop her gaze. Theres traces of her blood close to where this card was found. It would help if you told me what you were doing up there.
I did fuck-all, so fuck you. He fumbled in his pockets for a lighter. Leaned over and took a box of cigarettes out of the shopping bag on the table.
There were a couple of Sweetie Pie wrappers there too, said Clare. She lifted a shopping bagfrom the mess on the table. Inside it were Nik Naks, a Sweetie Pie, a bottle of milk, a cash slip.
The KwikShop on Valley Road, she said. Thats far from here.
Its pregnant women. You mos know what theyre like. Want weird stuff all the time.
Clare smoothed out the slip. So you walked up there at three this morning? She pocketed the receipt.
I know my rights, said DesRay. You cant come in hereand take my stuff without a warrant.
Should I get one? asked Clare.
DesRay shrugged and the sweater shed tied around her shoulders slipped, exposing her skinny upper arms. Five fading fingerprints on each.
Id like to know what you and your boyfriend were doing up there, said Clare.
Wes mos family, said Chadley.
So thats why shes got those bruises? asked Clare.
DesRay covered her upper armswith her hands.
Chadley was with me all the time. Her face mutinous.
You were both up there, said Clare.
You cant prove fuck-all, lady, said DesRay. She looked at Chadley, her eyes question marks.
Not yet, said Clare. But I soon will.
Clare headed home, past narrow streets, cramped cul-de-sacs and graffitied walls. This is where he was most at home. This was Riedwaan Faizals territory.
23
The Gang Unit building had a state-of-the-art security system that had never worked. Riedwaan Faizal went through the motions anyway
He placed his yellowed index finger on the scanner. It flashed red. He did it again. And a third time.
State-of-the-art se moer, Captain. The security guard spat, lifting the heavy boom. Welcome back. Whereve you been, Captain?
Joburg, said Riedwaan.
He hadbeen awake all night. His mother, spry as a city sparrow, had fractured her hip while he was away. Leaving suddenly to see her would have broken his cover and the precarious trust he had built with his twitchy source. So hed done what had already cost him a marriage: he put work before family. The most he could get from his job was a bullet in the head. But with family came reproach and yearningand the long, slow twisting of the heart.
Still, he had come back, and last night hed been at her bedside, her bony hand in his, the hollow feeling in his chest growing as he watched her fade. And hed broken his promise to Clare. He was in shit.
The building was only a year old, but the brass plaque commemorating its opening had not been polished in twelve months. The police commissioner whohad done the honours was now serving fifteen years for racketeering. Or corruption; Riedwaan could never remember which, and in the end it didnt really matter.
He took out his phone as he pushed the revolving doors open, and dialled Clares number. He counted the rings as he walked past empty offices along the Gang Unit corridor. Eight offices, eight rings. The specialised units bleeding, bleeding.What hed worked for twenty years to create was a husk of the dream he had started out with.
Clare was not picking up.
He kicked open the door to his empty office. His desk was a mess. Coffee cups, ashtrays, no
Similar Books
