Aleuker’s home would make it extremely improbable that anybody had noted the exact time of his departure from New Zealand. He had a good cover story,too; he would say that even if he fled he realized he didn’t want to confront Dany after their disagreement, so he made for the Gozo outlet instead and spent a while debating with himself as to whether he should ask Karl Bonetti to examine her and pronounce on her sanity. Then decided against the idea, and finally made for home, to discover …
Yes, the claim would carry conviction, but only if he hurried now.
He propped up his note beside the candle, and on impulse kissed Anneliese’s forehead. She half-smiled in her sleep. As he turned away his heart ached with yearning and delight.
INTERFACE L
It Was laid down
That making the
hajj
to Mecca
Earned much merit for a man
Someone I know
Now makes the
hajj
twice a day
It takes about one minute thirty seconds
– M USTAPHA S HARIF
Chapter 12
He walked straight past the disgusting ruin of Dany, heading for the phone. He dialed the police emergency code, and waited. Sometimes the phones in Valletta worked, and sometimes they didn’t.
This time they worked. A voice said grumpily, ‘Yes, police.’
‘Please send somebody here right away,’ Hans said, his voice shaking just a little. ‘It’s my wife. She’s dead.’
‘What?’
‘She must have killed herself while I was out. Here, make a note of my skelter code. I’ll disconnect the privateer.’
Less than two minutes later a uniformed sergeant appeared in the skelter, holding up a portable recorder. He said, ‘Repeat after me, please: I Hans Dykstra – do of my own free will – consent to the use of my skelter code – by law-enforcement officers – and understand – that on completion of these inquiries – I may require another code – confidential from the authorities … Thank you.’
He stepped into the hallway, his eyes fixed in dismay on Dany. A moment later another policeman appeared, and then after a slightly longer delay a harassed-looking mancarrying a medical kit, immediately followed by a photographer.
The second policeman to arrive identified himself as Chief Inspector Vanzetti; he was a portly man with tired eyes, his summerweight uniform patched with sweat although it was locally winter.
‘Tell me exactly what happened,’ he invited.
Hans licked his lips. ‘I – uh – I guess I found her about two or three minutes before I was able to call up. I had to go in the bathroom and vomit. The shock, you understand. And … Well, I wasn’t feeling too good in any case. You may have heard Chaim Aleuker held a treasure-hunt party?’
Vanzetti’s eyes widened. ‘You were at it? Hmm! How come you got away with a whole skin?’
‘Did it turn out to be bad?’
‘Twelve deaths that we’ve heard about, most of his house destroyed … How
did
you get away?’
Hans felt his cheeks start to burn. He wasn’t sorry. A little visible embarrassment would support his story well.
‘I hate to admit it, but … Well, you see, I’d been there three hours, maybe four, and I’d drunk a lot, and – and when the shooting started I just plain ran like hell. I’m not sure, but I think I was probably the first person to think of making for the skelter.’
‘That’s interesting,’ Vanzetti muttered. He consulted the watch on his wrist: no ordinary watch, as Hans’s expert eyes informed him, but a classic Seiko Worldtime, the like of which had not been built since the Blowup. ‘That means you must have left New Zealand at least an hour and a half ago, doesn’t it?’
‘I didn’t come straight here.’
‘Why not? And where did you go?’
‘I didn’t come here because Dany and I had had a row. I’m a photographer in my spare time. She was going to this treasure-hunt party – she didn’t tell me who the host was, and I’d assumed it was one of her abominable friends and preferred to stay at home and develop some film I was
Yes, the claim would carry conviction, but only if he hurried now.
He propped up his note beside the candle, and on impulse kissed Anneliese’s forehead. She half-smiled in her sleep. As he turned away his heart ached with yearning and delight.
INTERFACE L
It Was laid down
That making the
hajj
to Mecca
Earned much merit for a man
Someone I know
Now makes the
hajj
twice a day
It takes about one minute thirty seconds
– M USTAPHA S HARIF
Chapter 12
He walked straight past the disgusting ruin of Dany, heading for the phone. He dialed the police emergency code, and waited. Sometimes the phones in Valletta worked, and sometimes they didn’t.
This time they worked. A voice said grumpily, ‘Yes, police.’
‘Please send somebody here right away,’ Hans said, his voice shaking just a little. ‘It’s my wife. She’s dead.’
‘What?’
‘She must have killed herself while I was out. Here, make a note of my skelter code. I’ll disconnect the privateer.’
Less than two minutes later a uniformed sergeant appeared in the skelter, holding up a portable recorder. He said, ‘Repeat after me, please: I Hans Dykstra – do of my own free will – consent to the use of my skelter code – by law-enforcement officers – and understand – that on completion of these inquiries – I may require another code – confidential from the authorities … Thank you.’
He stepped into the hallway, his eyes fixed in dismay on Dany. A moment later another policeman appeared, and then after a slightly longer delay a harassed-looking mancarrying a medical kit, immediately followed by a photographer.
The second policeman to arrive identified himself as Chief Inspector Vanzetti; he was a portly man with tired eyes, his summerweight uniform patched with sweat although it was locally winter.
‘Tell me exactly what happened,’ he invited.
Hans licked his lips. ‘I – uh – I guess I found her about two or three minutes before I was able to call up. I had to go in the bathroom and vomit. The shock, you understand. And … Well, I wasn’t feeling too good in any case. You may have heard Chaim Aleuker held a treasure-hunt party?’
Vanzetti’s eyes widened. ‘You were at it? Hmm! How come you got away with a whole skin?’
‘Did it turn out to be bad?’
‘Twelve deaths that we’ve heard about, most of his house destroyed … How
did
you get away?’
Hans felt his cheeks start to burn. He wasn’t sorry. A little visible embarrassment would support his story well.
‘I hate to admit it, but … Well, you see, I’d been there three hours, maybe four, and I’d drunk a lot, and – and when the shooting started I just plain ran like hell. I’m not sure, but I think I was probably the first person to think of making for the skelter.’
‘That’s interesting,’ Vanzetti muttered. He consulted the watch on his wrist: no ordinary watch, as Hans’s expert eyes informed him, but a classic Seiko Worldtime, the like of which had not been built since the Blowup. ‘That means you must have left New Zealand at least an hour and a half ago, doesn’t it?’
‘I didn’t come straight here.’
‘Why not? And where did you go?’
‘I didn’t come here because Dany and I had had a row. I’m a photographer in my spare time. She was going to this treasure-hunt party – she didn’t tell me who the host was, and I’d assumed it was one of her abominable friends and preferred to stay at home and develop some film I was
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