Gun Dealing (The Ryder Quartet Book 2) (29 page)

‘Exactly, Mavis, and how do we
connect the guns?’

‘Ballistics.’

‘Excellent. Ballistics. Remember,
Mavis, how I was talking to them about the Desert Eagles?’

‘The Deagles.’

‘That’s right. You saw how all the
detectives were able to give little pieces of information, so that we could
trace the Deagles from Overport to Umlazi to Westville? That’s one of the most
important ways we track our criminals, Mavis. We try and map out exactly what
gun has been used in what crime and when and where, and who has been carrying
the gun, and then we tie it to fingerprints and DNA and, above all, Mavis, to
ballistics. Shall I give you a piece of information that I haven’t yet shared
with Captain Nyawula?’

‘Yes, please, Miss - yes, please,
Nadine.’

‘I’ll call him, and I’ll call
Detective Ryder, probably tonight, so keep it to yourself until tomorrow,
Mavis, see? From first thing tomorrow you can talk about it, but not before
late tonight, OK?’

‘Yes, Nadine.’

‘I’m not sure I should be telling you
this, Mavis. It might be upsetting for you. Are you sure you can keep this to
yourself just for tonight?’

Mavis was intrigued, but nodded
fiercely. She was hooked. No matter where it might lead.

‘OK, Mavis. Hold on to your hat. You
saw my assistant come into the office with the envelope?’

‘Yes, I saw.’

‘I showed you most of the stuff in
the car on the way here. But I didn’t give you one page. That’s the crucial
page.’

Mavis was beside herself with anxiety
about where this was going.

‘You might not know, Mavis, that
among all the cases I’ve been dealing with, and that Captain Nyawula referred
to this morning, the biggest case for me - as it is for you, I’m sure - is what
happened at KwaDukuza a week ago last Sunday.’

‘Sinethemba.’

‘Sinethemba, Mavis.’

Nadine paused while Mavis took it in.

‘I’ve been looking at the three
weapons that were used in that shooting, Mavis. They were all the same. They’re
called SIGs.’

‘SIG Sauer SP2022. Nine
millimetres
.’

It was Nadine’s turn to be at a loss
for words. She stared, open-mouthed, for a moment.

‘Mavis, you are really something
else. How did you know that?’

‘I saw the report on Sergeant
Cronje’s desk. Sinethemba and her friends...’

‘That’s right, Mavis. But let me tell
you, now, the latest bit of information. This is very exciting, Mavis so,
again, please keep it to yourself until tomorrow. Until late tonight, anyway,
when I tell the Captain and Jeremy Ryder.’

‘Yes, Nadine.’

‘You know that we found two of the
SIG Sauers from KwaDukuza? At Detective Ryder’s home, when those guys
gatecrashed?’

In response to the nodding from
Mavis, Nadine continued.

‘And you know that we’ve been looking
for the third one?’

‘You found it, Nadine? You find the
third SIG?’

‘Not quite, Mavis. But we’re getting
there. You know you pointed out the bullet-hole in the ground there, in front
of us? And I said that the CSI team had taken the bullets away?’

Mavis’s eyes almost doubled in size
as she
realised
where this was going.

‘The ballistics report my assistant
handed to me shows that the bullets that went into the hijacker - if you’re
right, Mavis, and it was the hijacker himself who got shot - the six bullets
that went into him, a couple of which went straight through his cheeks into the
ground - came from the third SIG used at KwaDukuza. The third weapon used in
the killing of the four constables was the same weapon that was used right here
in the hijacking. Or the attempted hijacking.’

Mavis started weeping. Nadine put her
arms around her and hugged her as hard as she could.

‘I know, Mavis. I know. I know
Sinethemba was your very good friend. We caught the bastard that killed her.
Now we’ll get the guy who took over his weapon. We’ve got the ballistics. Now
we’ll get the gun. Then we’ll get the man.’

20.30.
  

Ryder and Fiona were on the sofa with
the TV muted, as it so often was. They glanced fairly aimlessly at the screen
while they chatted, the conversation being infinitely more interesting to each
of them than what was being broadcast. Which looked like yet another early
James Bond.

Tea, rather than Sauvignon Blanc
tonight. The children, with their heads still in their mid-term holiday, were
preparing in their rooms for the tough term that had started with a vengeance.

Sugar-Bear was back in his
favourite
spot on the carpet, watching the two of them,
happy to be back to guard the house, but remembering fondly the sheep that he
had been looking at so intently last week, and the wide open spaces, and the
braaivleis
bones that had been thrown at
him in such abundance every evening from last Wednesday through to Sunday
morning. And probably hoping that there would be no more shouting at the
television set.

Ryder had lost the toss of the coin
to determine which of them should replenish the tea. He left his iPhone behind
on the sofa as he did so, and it waited till he was in the kitchen before it
chose to ring.

‘Shall I get it for you?’ Fiona
called to him.

‘Sure. If it’s Pop-eye Thabethe tell
him I’m on his tail. Tell him to watch his back.’

‘Hullo?’

There was a slight pause before
Nadine spoke.

‘Oh. Sorry, Fiona. Is that you?’

‘Nadine! How are you?’

She spoke louder than she would have,
normally, because she wanted Jeremy to hear as much of this as possible. She
needn’t have bothered. He came back rapidly into the room, placing the two mugs
of tea and reaching for the phone.

‘How did you
recognise
my voice, Fiona?’

Nadine felt foolish as she said it.
What was the point of saying something like that? Fiona, for her part, didn’t
have the heart to explain to Nadine how distinctive her diphthongs were.
Especially seeing she had on occasion scolded her husband for the same
observation about Nadine’s speech patterns.

‘How did I
recognise
your voice? Oh, I don’t know. Policeman’s wife, I suppose. Maybe I’ve got used
to observing things that other people might not.’

Fiona resisted as Ryder reached for
the phone with an expression on his face clearly intended to indicate
OK, now, that’s enough!

‘Anyway, Nadine, how are you? Jeremy
tells me he doesn’t know anyone who works quite as hard as you do. He’s a great
admirer of yours, you know, always talking about you.’

Ryder sighed loudly then grabbed at
the phone. Fiona expertly avoided the grasp and rolled off the sofa, moving
behind it as Ryder moved around to intercept her. Fiona maintained a
demeanour
so apparently calm that Nadine couldn’t possibly
tell what was happening as the Ryders chased each other this way and that
around the sofa. Sugar-Bear started barking.

‘Oh. So sorry, Nadine, the dog’s
getting excited. Hold on, let me pass you over to Jeremy.’

‘Thanks, Fiona. I won’t detain him
for more than a minute.’

‘No problem, Nadine. He’s not busy.
Just watching another boring CSI re-run on TV.’

Which wasn’t at all true. But Ryder
snatched the phone as if it was true and he had now to explain to the best CSI
person he knew just why he was watching such crap. Fiona giggled and curled up
with Sugar-Bear on the floor to watch her husband wriggle out of this.

‘Hi Nadine.’

‘Detective Ryder. Your wife tells me
you’re watching CSI. What good training for a detective!’

Now he was faced with the dilemma of
denying it and having Nadine wonder why Fiona had lied about it, or admitting
it, which was probably worse. He chose the latter. But tried to ameliorate it.

‘Not really. Sure, there’s an old CSI
running, but the sound’s off, and we were just talking.’

‘Really?’

Ryder was at a loss.

‘Anyway, Jeremy, I won’t keep you
long. You can get back to your CSI in just a minute.’

‘So kind, Nadine. What can I do for
you?’

‘Well, Jeremy. I think you might like
this. You probably thought after this morning’s meeting that my real interest
in life is Desert Eagles. That I’m a little obsessed by them, perhaps?’

‘Hmmm. Well, now that you mention it,
Nadine, I did think you were kind of planning to write a PhD thesis on the
history of the Deagle.’

‘Well, you’d be wrong. You might
remember that when you and Navi Pillay came to see me I had even more of a
passion for another little weapon.’

‘The SIG Sauer SP2022.’

‘The same.’

‘You’ve found the third one?’

‘Not exactly. I don’t have it in my
possession. But I know where it was used recently.’

‘Since KwaDukuza?’

‘Since KwaDukuza.’

‘Great stuff, Nadine. Hit me with
it.’

‘Always violent, Detective Ryder. I
don’t hit.’

‘Tell me, Nadine.’

‘Remember this morning I invited
Mavis Tshabalala with me to the scene of a reported hijacking?’

‘Cato Manor.’

‘The same. Only it wasn’t a
hijacking. It was a failed hijacking. Or at least your Mavis and I both think
it was a failed hijacking.’

‘Meaning?’

‘Looks like the guy who got wasted at
the scene was the hijacker and not the driver.’

‘And he was carrying the SIG when he
got wasted?’

‘Uh-uh.’

‘No? You mean he got shot by the
SIG?’

‘Just so. Six bullets. And the
ballistics report tells us that the rounds were fired by the third SIG that was
used at KwaDukuza. You still there, Jeremy?’

‘Nadine.’

‘Yes, Jeremy?’

‘I’m looking at my wife as I say this
to you, Nadine.’

‘What, Jeremy?’

‘I love you.’

Fiona threw a cushion at him.
Sugar-Bear started barking again.

‘Sounds like your dog doesn’t like
you saying that in front of your wife, Detective.’

‘Tell me more, Nadine. You’re saying
that you don’t have the SIG but it was used in the Cato Manor homicide? By the
driver of a car that was supposed to be hijacked?’

‘Exactly.’

‘Thanks, Nadine. I think I’ll phone
Nyawula and tell him. He’ll be pleased.’

Fiona had sidled up to him and was
now tickling his free ear with her tongue.

‘I’ve already told him, Jeremy,’ said
Nadine.

‘Oh.’

He tried to wriggle out of Fiona’s
embrace, as she thrust her tongue deeper into his ear.

‘Yes. He’s really pleased that
another piece of the puzzle has been found. Well, not found, but, possibly,
within sight. I told him I’d be calling you with the news.’

‘Great, Nadine. Brilliant.’

He fought hard to suppress a looming
burst of giggles. Fiona’s reaction was to dig her fingers into his ribs and
tickle.

‘I have to tell you, Jeremy, that
your Mavis Tshabalala is an amazing woman.’

‘Yes?’

He escaped from Fiona by running
behind the sofa, as she had done earlier. Which prompted more barking from
Sugar-Bear.

‘Yes. She is a natural. When she’s
through with her internship with you guys, let me know. I’d love to take her
under my wing.’

‘That’s really good to know, Nadine.’

‘Better get back to the dog, Jeremy.
He sounds as if he needs a late-night walk.’

‘Will do, Nadine. Thanks, again.
Fiona is waving goodbye, too. Talk soon!’

‘Bye, Jeremy. Kisses to Fiona.’

And she was gone.

He looked at Fiona and she responded
with a sultry come-on. He feinted to his left and she ran the opposite way,
straight into his arms. Sugar-Bear barked hysterically.

They kissed, passionately.

07.25.
  

Mavis, Cronje, Koekemoer, Dippenaar
and Pillay were in the outer office. The Captain was on the phone in his
office. Ryder was with him. The two of them had come in together in earnest
conversation while the others were in the car park enjoying the morning sun,
and had simply called out their greetings while marching straight through to
Nyawula’s office.

The others were now gathered around
the coffee urn.

‘So you went out on the road with
Nadine Salm, yesterday, Mavis?’

‘Yes,
Mr
Koeks.’

‘She take you to that Cato Manor
hijacking, Mavis?’

‘Yes,
Mr
Dipps.’

‘I hear the bastard just took the car
and shot the driver a few times in the head,’ said Cronje. ‘These guys. Not
enough to take the bloody car. Was that the first hijacking scene for you,
Mavis?’

‘Yes, Sergeant Piet. The first one.’

‘Scary stuff, hey, Mavis?’

‘Very scary,
Mr
Koeks.’

‘Hope they catch the bastard,’ said
Dippenaar. ‘He probably just hijacked the vehicle to get across town. Killed
the guy so that he could drive his car a few miles then just abandon it. One
person shot dead just for a short joy-ride.’

‘Maybe,
Mr
Dipps.’

There was a pause as they all looked
at her.

‘Maybe, Mavis? Why maybe? You think
something else might have happened?’

‘Yes, Navi. Maybe. Maybe the man who
is dead, maybe he was the hijacker.’

‘You mean the driver overpowered the
hijacker, Mavis? Is that what Nadine Salm thinks?’

‘No, Detective Dipps. Nadine, she
doesn’t say just one thing. She only looks at the evidence and then later she
will say what maybe happened. But she says she is just lifting the evidence in
some cases and testing the evidence in other cases.’

There was another pause as the three
detectives and Cronje mused.

‘And you, Mavis? What do you think
happened?’

‘I’m not sure, Sergeant Piet. But I’m
thinking maybe it is better to look at the bullets. Then the ballistics. Then
if they can find the gun they can find the man. Or the woman.’

‘But wait a minute, Mavis,’ said
Koekemoer. ‘Surely it’s much more likely that the guy who was shot dead was the
victim? Why would you say that it could have been the other way around? What
proof would there be of that?’

‘The dead man,
Mr
Koeks, he still had his wallet. With money inside.’

Another pause. Which was more of a
stunned silence than a pause. Then Pillay burst out laughing.

‘Mavis, you are the best! Koeks, I
wish I had a camera to take some piccies of you whenever you’re in conversation
with Mavis.’

‘
Jirra
,
Mavis,’ said Koekemoer, ‘no wonder Nadine Salm takes you out to these crime
scenes.’

‘You going to move into forensics one
day, for sure, Mavis.’

‘Thank you, Detective Dipps.’

‘Tell us some more, Mavis. You got
any other ideas about what might have happened?’

‘Yes, Sergeant Piet. I was thinking
last night.’

‘Tell us, Mavis,’ said Dippenaar.

‘I was thinking when Miss Nadine
dropped me in her car...’

‘What, Mavis?’

‘I was thinking, Detective Koeks,
that maybe when they get the ballistics report, then maybe they will find that
the one who shot that man is maybe the same one who has done some other bad
things. Or maybe he is just using the gun that has done the bad things. Or
maybe
she
is using the gun that has
done the bad things...’

‘
Yissus
,
Mavis. One afternoon with Nadine Salm and every sentence you speak is, like, so
careful
, you know. Maybe
him
. Maybe
her
. Can’t be sure till you get the evidence. Don’t get me wrong,
I’m thinking that’s a good thing. I’m not
criticising
,
you know?’

‘I know, Detective Dipps. I know.
Miss Nadine teaches me to ask questions but not to make decisions until I see
the evidence.’

‘Good call, Mavis. You follow
Nadine’s advice.’

‘Yes, Miss Navi.’

‘
Ja
.
Well. No. All the same, I think I would find it difficult to do that all the
time, guys,’ said Koekemoer. ‘Imagine being Nadine’s husband. Bet he has a hard
time at home.’

‘
Ja
,
Koeks. I agree. How do they decide on what’s for dinner? A
hunnert
questions first, check the evidence, then decide OK, we’ve
eliminated any doubt, so we’ll have boiled potatoes tonight,’ said Dippenaar.

‘
Ja
,’
added Cronje, ‘actually I wonder what her husband does for a living. Maybe he’s
also a forensics guy. Imagine the discussions over their roast pork.
You think it was stabbed before it was
roasted? No, jong, this pig was drowned and only then roasted.
Have you
ever met Nadine’s husband, Mavis?’

‘No, Sergeant Piet. Miss Nadine is
gay.’

Another stunned silence.

‘What? Nadine Salm? Gay?’ said
Koekemoer.

Pillay burst out laughing.

‘You guys! Amazing! Mavis, will you
just have a good look at these guys! Shock. Horror! A beautiful woman like
Nadine Salm. How can she possibly be gay! Hey, guys, haven’t you seen Nadine’s
assistant? Another beautiful woman. Haven’t you seen them working together? Are
you guys blind, or do you just see flowing ramparts of blonde hair when you
look at them? Mavis, am I right? Nadine’s assistant is her partner, right?’

‘Yes, Miss Navi,’ said Mavis,
giggling too, now, at the total discomfiture of the three men.

‘
Jirra
.
I don’t know,’ said Koekemoer.

‘
Yissus
.
Me too, Koeks,’ said Dippenaar.

‘I have to admit...’ said Cronje.

‘Am I wrong, Mavis, or is it just
men? I wonder if Jeremy thinks the same as these guys?’ said Pillay. As if on
cue, Ryder entered from the inner office, making directly for the exit door to
the car park.

‘Sorry, guys, in a bit of a hurry.
See you later.’

‘Jeremy, sorry, just a second...’

‘What is it, Navi?’

‘Koeks has a quick question for you
before you go.’

‘Sure, what is it, Koeks?’

‘Ah… well… OK, sorry, Jeremy, just
very quickly, then… do you know… is Nadine Salm married? Do you know her
husband?’

‘Don’t be silly, Koeks. Nadine Salm
is gay. Sorry guys, gotta go.’

And Ryder went down the stairs into
the car park.

Laughter all around, loudest from
Mavis. Which served to bring the Captain out of his office.

‘Any coffee available, Piet?’

‘Sure, Captain, coming right up.’

‘What’s all the levity about?’

‘Nothing important, Captain,’ said
Pillay. ‘But a quick question, if you don’t mind?’

‘Sure, Navi. What?’

‘Do you know if Nadine Salm is
married?’

‘Don’t think so, Navi. She’s gay. And
in a relationship with a very talented young woman. Haven’t you met her
assistant? Can you bring the coffee through for me, Piet? Got to call my
opposite number at Cato Manor.’

‘Sure thing, Captain,’ said Cronje.
‘Coming right up.’

As the Captain returned to his
office, the three men looked at each other, crestfallen. To the infinite,
chortling, joy of the two women.

08.25.
  

Koos van Rensburg had put a call
through to Ryder while he was with Nyawula. Ryder told him he was just
finishing up in a meeting and would come right over.

He felt the need to be on the road.
To try and join up a few loose ends. He thought best when he was behind the
wheel of his Camry.

 As he drove, he mused over the
events of the past couple of weeks. They had not been easy. Two weeks ago he
had shot and killed a guy who had murdered an old couple, lost his buddy Ed
Trewhella to a gangster’s bullet, taken a heavy blow on the head from the same
gangster, head-butted and then smashed the skull of a body-building,
drug-dealing, giant Redwood of a man, and with his team had then ripped out the
heart of a gambling ring linked to police corruption. All in one week.

But he had missed nailing the elusive
Thabethe.

Then last week had been just as
tough. He had struggled through Ed’s funeral, tracked various lines of enquiry
on the appalling police killings in KwaDukuza, smashed to a pulp two armed and
dangerous burglars in his own home, his wife taking down a third man, equally
dangerous, and once again he had been frustrated, this time even further, by
Thabethe’s ability to slide through the smallest of gaps. And during all of
this he had tried to keep up with the never-ending burden of administrative
work while picking up smaller cases as they arose each and every day. Talk
about the thin blue line.

 But there were compensations,
as he found when he entered hobbit-land. Van Rensburg’s team had been hard at
work. Discarded polystyrene cups everywhere. Hairy, untidy, smelly hobbits
wearing headphones and muttering quietly to whoever they were connected to.
Occasional peals of joy, fists pumping the air as another strike was achieved.

 ‘OK, Jeremy. My guys have
traced a total of four calls now between phones one and two. I told you on
Saturday that we know phone two is registered to the guy called Mkhize. Phone
number one, it might not surprise you, is not identifiable by name. It’s been
passed on, stolen, unlocked, fiddled with, and, as you mentioned to me, probably
stolen again most recently on Sunday night ten days ago.’

‘And we’re pretty damned sure, Koos,
that it’s the same phone that was lost by a guy we know who’s recovering in
Addington Hospital.’

‘The Themba guy. So I’ve been told,
Jeremy. Poor guy took on Detective Ryder in his home, I hear?’

‘Yep. But he lost his phone long
before I met him, Koos.’

‘Anyway, Jeremy. You know about the
calls last Monday night at 9.30, on Wednesday morning at 10.20 and on Thursday
at 13.00. But we thought you would be interested in this. Phone two called
phone one again on Sunday at exactly 14.00, and we now know that on all of
these occasions phone number two was located at Nomivi’s.’

‘No surprise. That’s where Mkhize
hangs out.’

‘Looks like it. So, anyway, here’s
the most recent information. The call on Thursday from Mkhize to phone one was
picked up by phone one in Cato Manor. We can give you more or less the
coordinates to the place where the call was taken, but nothing particularly
exciting. In the middle of nowhere, really. No significant buildings around.
The phone call on Sunday was picked up by phone one at Wilson’s Wharf.’

 Ryder was impressed. And
enormously grateful, and said so.

 He didn’t share with Van
Rensburg his thoughts on the Wilson’s Wharf connection. His mind was racing
over possibilities related to that. As a consequence of which he had not
registered any particular significance in the reference to Cato Manor.

09.05.
  

‘Mavis, fancy another coffee?’

‘Thank you, Navi. Yes, please. That
will be nice.’

‘Let’s go and have it outside. I need
some more of that sun to go with it.’

The two of them took their mugs
outside and chatted while leaning up against a couple of the cars in the car
park.

‘That was really interesting stuff
you picked up about the hijacking on Thursday, Mavis. Very impressive.’

‘Thank you, Navi.’

‘I remember my first interest in
detective work was sparked by some forensics stuff they showed me when I was an
intern.’

‘I was wondering, Navi, why Nadine is
not also a detective.’

‘What? Nadine? Oh, yes, I see what
you mean. She’s amazing, isn’t she? Well, maybe she gets so much pleasure out
of the forensics and the ballistics that she doesn’t need any more in her life
than that. Maybe she’s heard about the reports and forms we all have to fill
in.’

‘Yes, I’m sure, Navi. Maybe.’

‘Tell, me, Mavis, how you would like
to see your career going in the next couple of years.’

Mavis was very happy with the
question. She had thought through the answer frequently. She smiled as she took
another sip of coffee.

‘Me and Sinethemba, Navi. We talked
about that one. Many times...’

 
09.10.

As Ryder drove away from Van Rensburg
and his team he was in no doubt that phone number one was none other than
Thabethe. Who else would Mkhize be calling? But even more important than that,
he thought, was the connection to Wilson’s Wharf. If he was correct about phone
number one, what was Thabethe doing down there?