Snyman scurried. Joubert and OGrady dealt out more work.
The doctor says shes conscious but she cant see anyone, said Snyman when he came back.
Well see, said Joubert. Take this. Im going to the hospital.
In Kraaifontein, on the open piece of ground between the Olckers High School and the railway line, there was a huge tent. At the entrance to the tent a banner had been erected.
TABERNACLE OF THE REDEEMER SERVICES:
THU. 19:00. SUN. 09:00, 11:00, 19:00.
Next to the big tent, there was a 1979 Sprite Alpine trailer with a small tent pitched in front of it. On the trailers couch, which could extend into a double bed, sat Pastor Paul Jacques Coetzee. He was busy preparing for the evenings service.
Pastor Coetzee was unaware of the fact that more than eighty detectives in the Cape Peninsula were looking for him, because he didn't own a television set and didn't read the newspapers. Instruments of the devil, he had called the media in many of his rousing sermons.
He was engrossed in his work, heard all the phrases that he would fling from the pine pulpit, heard the refrain of the Message that would reecho from the loudspeakers.
From the heart come wicked thoughts, murder, adultery, corruption, theft, false witness, scandalmongering.
Sergeant, I have the information you were looking for, said the secretary of Premier Banks district manager.
Griessel sat in his office, pen at the ready.
Im all ears, he said.
Of the fourteen names you gave us, there are five who have accounts with Premier. Carstens, Geldenhuys, Milos, Rademann, and Stewart.
Yo? he said when hed finished writing.
Carstens and Rademann are women. Of the three men remaining, two are problem clients.
Yes?
Milos and Stewart. Milos has overdraft facilities of forty-five thousand rand, with sixteen incidents of repayment arrears in the past twenty-four months.
Griessel whistled.
His checking account was frozen and he has no other account with us. Legal proceedings have already been instituted against him to try to recover the outstanding amount. Stewarts car was repossessed two months ago after he had, for six consecutive months, failed to pay the monthly payment of nine hundred eighty rand. His checkbook and credit card have also been frozen. He still has a savings account with us. The balance is five hundred forty-three rand and eighty cents.
Griessel wrote it all down.
Sergeant, said the woman with the sweet voice.
Yes?
My chief asked me to remind you again that the information is absolutely confidential.
Absolutely, said Griessel and grinned.
I understand your position, doctor, but you must understand mine. Out there is a man with a Mauser who, according to the criminologists, is out of control. And in here lies a woman who can help to prevent more bloodshed.
Joubert was proud of his choice of words.
You dont understand, Captain. Her condition is . . . Shes on a knife edge. My only responsibility is toward her.
He played his trump card. Doctor, I can go to court and apply for an interdict.
Captain, the court will hear me, too.
Check. They stood facing each other in the passage of the private hospital. The doctor was short and slender, with dark circles under his eyes.
Ill have to ask her if shes willing to see you.
Id really appreciate that.
Joubert waited while the doctor opened the door and disappeared. He put his hands in his trouser pockets, took them out again. He was unhappy. He didn't have time. He turned, walked on the thick carpet. He walked back and forth.
The doctor came back. She says she owes you.
Thank you, doctor.
Five minutes, Captain. And be very gentle with her.
He opened the door for Joubert. Antoinette Nienaber looked dreadful. The lines next to her mouth were deeply etched. Her eyes were sunken, her face the ghostly copy of a skull. She lay with her head deep in the pillows, the upper part of her body slightly raised. There was a drip attached to her arm, the tube snaking up to the plastic bag. She wore powder-blue nightclothes. Her blond hair lay lifelessly on the pillow.
He walked to the bed.
Im sorry . . . he said uncomfortably.
So am I. Her voice was remote. He saw traces of a narcotic in the unfocused eyes that stared at him.
I have only a few questions. You must tell me when youre tired.
She nodded her assent.
Do you know if your husband knew Ferdy Ferreira or Drew Wilson?
It took her a while before she shook her head. No.
Carina Oberholzer?
No.
Jacques Coetzee?
No.
Hester Clarke?
No. A thread of a voice.
Did your husband usually carry his firearm in his attaché case?
Her eyes closed. The moments ticked past. In the passage there were footsteps.
Had she heard him?
The eyes opened. No, she said and a drop formed under her eye, ran down the pale cheek, fell onto the blue collar of her nightgown, lay there for a second before being absorbed into the material.
He was caught up in conflicting emotions. The urgency in him made him want to ask her whether her husband had been faithful, but he knew he couldn't, not now. What about a euphemism? Had they been happily married? He saw her looking at him, the eyes waiting, a deer facing a shotgun.
Thank you, Mrs. Nienaber, he said. I hope you . . . I wish you well.
Thank you.
Her lips formed the words but there was no sound. She turned her head away, toward the window.
Joubert was back in the office, telephone against his ear.
Julio da Costa said that Carina Oberholzer may have mentioned names like Jacques Coetzee or Hester Clarke but he wouldn't have remembered. She talked a great deal, Captain. All the time. And laughed. She was a very lively girl. She liked fun and parties and people. Her job was only something to make money and to pass the day. She was a night person. Thats how we met. She came in here one Friday night, after midnight, she and a crowd of friends.
And then?
Hell, Captain, you know the way it goes. One cant work all the time. And you know what its like with a wife at home.
Joubert said nothing. Because he no longer knew.
Its not illegal, Da Costa said defensively. And in any case, it wasn't her first time.
How do you know?
A man always knows, Captain. If youd had her, you would also have known what I mean. Hot stuff.