“No, I meant what I said to young Myburgh, Tromp; he’d not have missed the brandy, nor would he have left matters after the firearms find. He could have received the same help from several sources besides myself-Prinsloo, for instance. The basic trouble was our dependency, to a degree, on textbooks from England.”
“Oh, ja?”
“The English are not, you see, taken on average, a very big race. Or at least this appears to be true of their criminal classes, and so these misunderstandings occur when generalizations are made. Now, don’t mistake me; the English had hanging down to a fine art before they chickened out, but all that doesn’t go into a forensic handbook. Myburgh reacted as I would have done under similar circumstances.”
“All the same,” said Kramer, accepting his light, “I still say it was one hell of a coincidence.”
Strydom looked away. “Okay, so I admit it.”
“What?”
“That this trip wasn’t so coincidental. It didn’t even have anything to do with Erasmus, except maybe indirectly. You could say it sort of triggered off an idea.”
“I’m not with you, Doc.”
“Er-this really ought to have come up naturally. You know? I just thought it would be a good opportunity for you and me to have a little chat. Man, you don’t know how impossible it is normally to get you alone in one place for more than two minutes. However, you brought Zondi to do the driving and-”
“Ach, I see!”
“No, Tromp, I don’t think so,” Strydom replied grimly.
Kramer, whose thoughts had been trying to fit around the idea of an execution, which was harder than grabbing wet soap with boxing gloves on, realized abruptly what was being said. While he couldn’t read the innuendo, some kind of trouble lay very plainly between the lines. This baffled him because, whatever they might say behind each other’s back, he and Strydom got on well together, being always careful whom they said it to. And when it came down to sorting out a stiff, the Doc seldom let you down. Yet morgue work was only a single aspect of the DS’s duties, Kramer remembered now, and felt himself tensing up. Strydom was also required to attend corporal punishment at the triangle, to investigate complaints by political detainees, to give yellow fever shots to air travelers, and to care for the health of all police personnel and their dependents, under the force’s free medical scheme. Being rather dull by comparison, this latter function wasn’t one that sprang readily to mind-as it certainly should have done.
“Doctor, what the hell are you trying to say?” Kramer demanded. “It’s about Zondi, am I right?”
Strydom sighed, turning the sound into a low chuckle of respect. Then he took off his glasses to clean them-an old ploy of his when he wanted to appear defenseless-and began speaking again in an entirely different tone. At a guess, it was intended to be soothing, but its effect rivaled the scrape of fingernails down a whitewashed wall.
“I know you’re a bit touchy in this regard,” Strydom said. “You even proved as much this afternoon, by making him walk five kilometers just to impress me.”
“Rubbish.”
“You had no special need for the information at that stage, Tromp. I know it was my presence that influenced-”
“Ach, kak! You had nothing to do with it!”
“Then why did you, Tromp? Even Van Heerden looked a bit surprised.”
“It was a job he could do best.”
“So you might believe, but-”
“No, in his bloody opinion!” Kramer chopped across. “It was also his idea.”
Strydom put his glasses back on and stared for a while.
“Can you explain that some more to me?”
This wasn’t a topic Kramer liked in the least, and he wished he’d not responded at all, but the damage was done, and he had to go on.
“It would have been hard on the man to say no. Zondi has never done less than his best.”
“Nobody’s arguing. But you know that it’s my duty to report on the fitness of all CID staff, and that I depend on all senior officers for help with my assessments. Not once have I had anything from you, and that is making my position with Colonel Muller very difficult. I can’t keep writing ‘Progress as expected’ week after week without him wondering when all this progress is going to stop, and he has an A-l Bantu again. You do know that he insists on every member of CID being 100 percent fit, hey?”
“I heard it was 100 percent efficient.”
With an uneasy laugh, Strydom said, “And I’d always understood that the two went together.”
“So what do you want me to say? Chuck him on the scrap-pile?”
“We didn’t say that when you got yourself shot up in that Portuguese cafe, Tromp. Please don’t get unreasonable.”
It was on the tip of Kramer’s tongue to point out how unreasonable a comparison that was, and to do this very forcibly, when a much simpler solution occurred to him.
“Doc, just listen,” he said gruffly, like a man baring his soul. “I’ve had that boy for how many years now? Do you know how many hours I’ve spent training him? You should know what slow learners some of them are, man, even if you’ve never had to work with them. But I tell you, and others would say exactly the same, that when you get a good boy, then you want to hold on to him. You must know as well as I do what could happen if mine was-”
“Say no more,” Strydom interrupted. “I’ve got the same thing with Nxumalo down at my morgue. And besides, you sound like my wife, when the cookboy wants to give in his notice! But seeing as we are talking like friends again, the way we ought always to talk, then please take some friendly advice. Your noncooperation in this matter could have far-reaching effects, and I wouldn’t want to be party to that.”
“Up to you, Doc.”
“Damn and blast, Tromp! You don’t seem to appreciate what I’m trying to do for you off the record. Very well; I make out my next report on him this coming Monday. You send me a memo anytime before that you like. But if I don’t get your memo, then you and the Colonel can argue the toss over what it is he requires. And I don’t envy you trying to prove your version either!”
Kramer felt he’d gone some small way towards providing that proof when Zondi, looking very chipper, if in need of a good dry-clean, flagged them down at the picnic spot. He clearly had something useful to impart-which, as it turned out, far exceeded any expectations.
“Let’s hear it,” Kramer said, winding down his window.
“Two things, Lieutenant.”
“Shoot.”
“Number one, I have reason to believe,” replied Zondi, who was such a flagrant mimic most of his subjects never noticed, “that the body of the deceased was brought to this place after his demise.”
“What?” said Strydom, leaning across. “Did someone see this?”
“Not in as many words, Dr. Strydom, sir, but observations were indeed made. My witnesses stand over by the fence.”
Two potbellied, small Zulu boys, possibly aged five and eight, dressed in a man’s ragged shirt and a woman’s torn summer shorts, respectively, peered at them from behind hands shyly raised.
“Part of the raiding party here today,” Zondi explained, a smile flickering. “I thought it expedient to have them return with me, and to discuss exactly what they had seen upon arrival. They told me it is their custom to hide behind a tree while they ascertain whether the occupant of any parked vehicle-they had, of course, seen the deceased’s car from a distance-will take exception to their presence.”
“Uh huh, so they hide behind tree A-it’s the farthest back,” said Kramer, trying to speed this up.
“Correct, Lieutenant. Except when the sun comes out and the day grows hot, then they may wait by another one.”
“Why?” asked Strydom.
“The ants, Doctor, sir.”
“Oh, ja.”
“This has some bearing?” Kramer grumbled. “Come on, I can see you’re enjoying this, but get to the bloody point.”
“May I speak without reservation, sir?”