Pale Horses (16 page)

The redheaded neighbour walked rather hesitantly up to the police to give the detective in charge the contact information for the dead man’s family. Jade guessed that her hesitation was partly due to natural caution, but mostly due to the fact that she was now carrying the grey cat in her arms and she didn’t want the animal to become frightened.

Jade had hoped to give the cat to Harris. He looked like a man who needed some company. But if the neighbour was a cat lover who could offer it a good home, who was she to argue? And from the way the woman was holding the cat, talking to the cat, reassuring him and stroking him under his chin, it was obvious it was going to work out well.

For a moment, Jade felt a pang of jealousy at this open display of affection.

Her musings were interrupted by Harris, who said in a low voice, ‘The police want to interview us. That detective over there – he said I must wait for him, and that he would be ready soon. Oh. It looks as if he’s ready now.’

Jade took a couple of deep breaths. The gun felt hard and heavy – a large, awkward object that her T-shirt was doing a poor job of concealing. Any policeman would notice it in a flash. She always wore a jacket when she carried a gun, but seeing she still didn’t have her own damn gun, she hadn’t bothered with a jacket. All she was wearing over her T-shirt tonight was a fairly-tight fitting jersey that, right now, was no help at all.

‘I don’t know what I’m going to tell him. How do I explain the fact you’re here?’ Harris said.

‘Tell him the truth.’

She watched the detective flip through the pages of his notebook to find a fresh sheet. Then he began walking in their direction.

Jade sat down on the grass next to Harris. Reaching into the waistband of her jeans, she wriggled the firearm free. She leaned over and stretched behind the wheelie bin as surreptitiously as she could, hearing the crinkle of plastic as she pushed the Colt underneath the bag with Zelda’s notebooks, which she had left there when the shooting started. The hiding place was laughably inadequate, but it would have to do.

Harris stood up as the detective approached. She could sense his anxiety and suspected that her presence might have a lot to do with it. Still, he should count himself lucky. If she hadn’t been there, Harris would
have found himself alone in the house when the men had broken in, and things might have ended up a whole lot worse.

Tuning out their rather stilted conversation, Jade replayed the events of the previous half-hour in her mind.

The intruders pursuing them, then searching the street. Methodically, as if they’d had some training. Ex-army, perhaps. Another minute and they would have found the two of them hiding behind the bins.

And then the shooting. Two shots, almost simultaneous. A double tap, with one bullet passing directly through the forehead of the elderly man. In dim light and in motion, that was either superb marksmanship or a very lucky shot.

Thinking it over carefully, Jade decided she was going to go with luck. There were very few people who could shoot so well.

In which case, she had the advantage, because in their haste to make a quick getaway, the men in the bakkie would have no idea they’d killed the elderly resident. In which case they would be back soon, looking for her. And this time she’d be ready for them.

Leaning back casually in order to nudge the bag covering the stolen gun even further out of sight while she waited for the policeman to question her, Jade thought her theory made perfect sense. The idea that she might be badly wrong never even crossed her mind.

By the time the police were finished with Jade it was nearly midnight. The detective who’d interviewed her thanked her for her time and, turning rather tiredly away, began packing the last of the traffic cones into the police van.

The area was quiet now. Empty of curious neighbours and onlookers. Empty too, Jade saw, of Harris. He’d left without saying goodbye or, more usefully, giving her his contact details. He had her business card, though. All she could do was hope that at some stage he got in touch.

She retrieved the shopping bag with the pistol and notebooks and walked back to where she’d parked her car. Carrying the stolen gun,
she didn’t feel particularly vulnerable on the lonely streets, but this changed when she reached the parking area and saw that all the other vehicles had gone.

There had been plenty of time and opportunity for somebody to tamper with her Fiat. Perhaps do something less obvious and more lethal than simply cutting a tyre.

Jade felt her heart speed up. Dammit, these thugs had already gained the advantage. Here she was, nervous about even climbing into her own car.

She breathed in and out slowly, trying to calm herself down. She checked the tyres, examined the bodywork and inspected the locks. She knelt down and pressed the tiny flashlight on her keyring and peered at the shadowy undercarriage, trying to assess whether it looked normal or whether there was something there that shouldn’t be.

On that front, she didn’t have a clue. Didn’t know enough about cars to be sure.

‘Oh, stop being such a coward,’ she told herself. ‘There’s no way they would have stayed in the area. They’d have got out fast, planning to come back tomorrow.’

She pressed the button to unlock the car and all four locks snapped up. She hated this feature of central locking.

The driver’s door made its usual creaking sound when she pulled it open and climbed in. She closed the door, re-engaged the central locking, and stuck the key into the ignition.

Then, holding her breath and sitting absolutely still, she turned the key and fired the engine up. At that exact moment her phone rang. Its loud shrilling nearly made her heart stop.

The caller was David.

‘You sound breathless,’ he observed when she answered. ‘Been running?’

‘No.’ Jade clamped her mouth shut in an effort to control her breathing.

‘I had a call a little while ago from the detectives at a homicide scene in Randburg. Said you were a witness to a shooting and that you’d mentioned my name during the interview. They wanted to know if you really were a private investigator.’

She eased the car into first gear and moved off. No bangs. No bursts.

‘Thanks for confirming my credentials,’ she said. ‘I hope the call didn’t wake you.’

What she really meant was: where are you?

‘Of course not. I’m still at work. Only leaving now.’

‘I’m only leaving Randburg now. It’s been a long night.’

‘Are you OK after the shooting?’ David asked. Nice that he’d bothered to ask, even though his voice contained the same level of sympathy that an anti-bullfighting activist might show when enquiring about an injured matador.

‘I wasn’t really involved,’ Jade told him. ‘Innocent bystander. The shooters broke into an empty house while I was in the area.’

David grunted something that Jade didn’t catch, and for a few seconds there was silence on the line. Then: ‘Do you have a minute to speak to me?’ he asked.

‘Of course. Fire away.’

‘I meant in person,’ he continued, and she felt her palms dampen.

‘I … yes, of course. Do you mean now?’

‘If you have the time. I’ll come to you. You say you’re in Randburg. How about meeting up at The Baron on Main Road?’

‘Sure. I …’

Unusually, Jade found herself at a loss for words. She didn’t know what to say to David in response. She guessed he’d chosen The Baron because it was about the only place in the area likely to be open after midnight. It was a notorious pick-up joint, but jokes about that seemed inappropriate. And since he’d said he wanted to speak to her in person, he obviously wasn’t going to offer any further information over the phone.

‘I’ll see you there then,’ she said, and hung up before the gaps between their words turned from uneasy to downright embarrassing.

Even after midnight, The Baron was busy. The music was still pumping and the air was clouded with cigarette smoke. The bar was packed with well-dressed patrons in their twenties and early thirties. Lots of cash
being brandished about; lots of bling. Men with designer ties loosened and silk shirts unbuttoned a couple of holes. Gold chains, platinum watches, BlackBerrys and iPhones seemingly glued to their palms. Women with fabulous hair showing off gym-toned bodies in faded, hip-hugging jeans and bejewelled stilettos that shrieked ‘Bought in Sandton’.

The restaurant area was quieter. A few people were lingering over coffees and waiting for their bills. There was no sign of David so Jade sat down at a corner table that had been recently vacated and not yet cleared. She pushed aside an empty whisky glass and a cup with the dregs of a cappuccino, and when the harassed-looking waiter arrived with a tray, she ordered a glass of Chardonnay for herself and a Black Label draught for David.

Her stolen gun was tucked inside the cubbyhole of her Fiat, which was parked between the gleaming bulk of a silver Toyota HiLux and a black Range Rover. From the road it would be invisible. Nobody had followed her here and she’d paid the car guard twenty rand to keep a special eye out for anyone who approached her vehicle. So, for now at least, she could relax and wait for David to arrive.

He walked in a few minutes later. Tall, dark-skinned, blue-eyed, and with a presence about him that turned the heads of several women at the bar in spite of the fact that he was about ten years older – and wearing clothes ten times cheaper – than the men who were chatting them up. If he’d been her partner, Jade would have felt proud to see him arrive. He wasn’t, though, and that left her feeling lonely and frustrated. She’d gladly have swapped places with any of the girls at the bar. At least they had some chance of a future with their drinking partners.

David folded himself into the chair opposite Jade.

‘Thanks for making the time,’ he said.

‘No problem. As you know, I was on my way home.’ She pushed the beer over towards him and he clinked glasses with her before draining half the contents in a single gulp.

‘What happened with the shooting?’ he asked, and Jade felt suddenly hurt at the thought that perhaps this was why he’d asked to meet up with her, because he didn’t believe what she’d told him and suspected that she had instigated it.

Doing her best to rise above these misgivings, Jade gave him a brief outline of her latest puzzling case.

David listened with his chin propped on his steepled fingers, interrupting her only to order them another round of drinks. Although it was getting very late now, he didn’t seem to be in any hurry to tell her what, if anything, was bothering him.

‘Wait a minute,’ he asked the waiter as he was preparing to leave. ‘Is your kitchen still open?’

‘Yes, for another few minutes. I’ll bring …’

‘No, no, I don’t need a menu. Can I have a cheeseburger and chips, please? I’m starving. All I’ve eaten today is a slice of stale carrot cake. It was Captain Thembi’s birthday on Monday.’ He glanced at Jade. ‘Anything for you?’

‘No, thanks. I’ve had supper.’ If you could call a banana and a large bag of chilli cashews eaten in the car while driving back to Jo’burg ‘supper’.

‘So you have a theory about why Zelda Meintjies’s gone missing, then?’ David asked when the waiter had gone.

‘I’m sure it’s got something to do with one of the pieces she’s working on, and part of the reason I think so is that I couldn’t find any of her most recent notebooks. Only the older ones.’

‘She could have bought a Dictaphone and stopped using them.’

‘That’s a possibility, I suppose.’

‘Or she had them with her. In her car, perhaps. Which there was no sign of, by the way.’ And, in the mess of papers in the house, Jade hadn’t noticed any documentation relating to a vehicle. She could only hope that Harris knew the car’s make and model, or better still remembered the number plate, and had given this information to the police.

‘And how is Zelda’s disappearance linked to her sister’s death? It can’t be coincidence, but which happened first?’

‘I don’t know. All I can tell you is that both events happened at around the same time.’

‘So, do you think the men who fired the shots tonight are also responsible for pushing Sonet off the building after jimmying her parachute?’

‘Well, there was another set of footprints on the top floor of Sandton Views. I still don’t know who they belong to. But what puzzles me, though, is that if you wanted to kill someone there are far easier ways to do it.’

‘Plenty, yes. But not so many that would point a charge of culpable homicide directly at one person.’

‘True. It must have taken some planning to arrange that would-be accident though – and how did they know she was going to be jumping that particular night?’

‘That’s a good question.’

A short but easy silence followed. Then the waiter appeared with David’s burger and he started in on it immediately, eating at the same speed that a pack of wild dogs who’d just made a kill might have done.

‘You reckon the guys who shot the old man also slashed your tyre?’ he said, dunking a chip in tomato ketchup.

‘I’m pretty sure. I recognised the truck they were driving, although I didn’t get the licence plates, unfortunately.’

‘Probably fake in any case. You’re remarkably calm about this, Jade.’

‘I’ve thought it through. The shot was a lucky one. That means they’re trigger-happy idiots, not professionals.’

‘They cut your tyre at the hospital and they turned up in Randburg just a few hours later. They’re not going to stop, Jade. Are you sure they’re not tracking your car?’

‘Would you have bothered to put an expensive tracking device on a vehicle that you assumed was going to end up rolling over a steep cliff? Finding me now will mean starting from scratch.’

‘Well, how did they find you in the first place? What were they doing driving round a remote rural area waiting for you to pitch up at the farm and then go to the hospital?’

‘Good point, David. I don’t know why they were out there or if they were waiting for me, or for someone else. In any case, though, they’ve lost me now. But, if they’re halfway competent, they’ll have discovered where I live by tomorrow morning. If they’re not it could take longer.