An Ordinary Day (30 page)

Durant looked puzzled. ‘This looks serious. What’s up?’

Amina silently reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a white envelope. She held it out to Durant, who frowned, took it and opened the flap.

‘What’s this for?’ he asked, puzzled.

Amina’s voice was a whisper. ‘It’s almost ten thousand rand in cash. I can’t believe it.’

‘I still don’t get it,’ Durant said, wishing Amina would get to the point.

‘I found it … in Mike’s safe,’ Amina said so softly, Durant barely caught the words.

Durant looked at the envelope and then back at Amina. ‘In Mike’s office safe?’

‘I was looking for those documents you asked me to get. The envelope got hooked onto a paper clip and I pulled it out. I saw the money. My first thought was to bring it to you.’

‘Okay. Ten thousand rand. What do you think?’

‘I know Mike’s battling financially.’

‘He’s battling in many other ways too.’ Durant leaned back in his chair. ‘Ten thousand rand. Sure it’s not agent money? Somebody he needs to pay?’

‘There’s no receipt in the envelope. Also, I don’t know if Mike’s got sources he pays that amount of money to.’

‘You’re right.’ Durant bit his bottom lip and then looked out of his window, his mind racing through the possible explanations and crossing them off one by one. ‘He would have brought source claims to me for recommendation, and I haven’t seen any lately, so this definitely isn’t official cash. This is personal cash.’

‘Perhaps I should put it back? Maybe there’s an explanation for it, I’m sure there’s an explanation for it, I’ll just put it back and we forget about it. What do you think?’

Durant frowned and rubbed his brow. ‘Well, there are two ways we can handle this, Ami. I can call him in and ask him where he got the money from. Perhaps he won it at the casino, or maybe there’s some other explanation.’

‘No, no you can’t ask him. It’ll embarrass him, no.’

‘Then there’s the Internal Security option. I dunno. I’ve known Mike and Thandi a long time; they’re normal folks like us.’

‘That’s right, they’re like us.’

‘I can’t imagine he’d take money from someone. I want to make sure of what’s going on before I ruin his career.’

‘He must have been desperate.’

‘Not desperate enough to take money from someone. Not Mike. I know him too well. He wouldn’t be able to, no, definitely not.’

‘So where is he?’

Durant shook his head without looking up. ‘Don’t know. It’s not like him to disappear. He tells me everything.’

‘Maybe not everything.’

‘Mmm. Seems odd. Something’s happened, something we’re not aware of. But Mike, I don’t know, I just can’t imagine him betraying us.’

‘I know. I can’t either. What do we do?’

‘I wish I knew … This is Mike’s career we’re talking about. We can’t jump to conclusions based on just the cash. Maybe he doesn’t trust the banking system. We know he’s a gambler; maybe he’s trying to hide the money from Thandi, that’s why he locks it away at work.’

Durant shook his head, as if to clear it. ‘Amina, put the money back where you found it.’

‘Are you sure?’ The words came out louder than she anticipated, but it was too late.

‘I’m not sure at all. I need time to think out a strategy. I need to be fair to Mike – he’s more than a colleague, he’s a family friend.’

‘He’s my friend too, but don’t let your friendship with him cloud your objectivity, Kevin.’

‘I won’t. If he’s betrayed the Agency and us, I’ll take him down. I just need a few hours to make sure.’

Amina nodded and took the envelope Durant held out to her. Durant rubbed his brow and sighed as Amina left his office. The day had started out badly, and had degenerated from there.

His cellphone rang.

‘Kevin, it’s Anja. I’m at that address you gave me in Pinetown, Merton Towers. Nothing spectacular, it’s a residential block, slightly run down. Want me to check apartment four?’

‘Discreetly. Use a cover story. The apartment is registered on water and lights to an R. Farrell. See if it checks out.’

Anja smiled broadly at the grey-haired woman who opened the door to apartment four. ‘Can I help you?’

‘I hope you can. My name’s Lana. How do you do?’

‘Cathy Farrell. What can I do for you?’

‘I’m here to pick up a parcel from John.’

The woman frowned. ‘John? John who? I don’t know a John.’

Anja shook her head and sighed. ‘They’ve messed up again. They’ve sent me all the way here at my own expense and it’s the wrong address. They keep getting it wrong.’

Farrell put her hand on Anja’s arm. ‘Sorry, dear. But I don’t know a John.’

‘And they specifically told me; make sure it’s the right John, the American guy.’

The woman raised an eyebrow. ‘An American?’ She rubbed her chin.

Anja shook her head again and seemed close to tears. ‘They said if I keep messing up I’ll lose my job, but it’s not my fault. They gave me the address, and I’m here, and now there’s no American called John …’

Farrell could now clearly see tears forming in the girl’s eyes. ‘I’m really sorry, dear. I run an answering service for about twenty people. I just take messages and pass them on. I know I don’t have a John on my books. I do have an American though, but that’s Joe. I wish I could have been more help.’

Anja’s face seemed to light up perceptibly. She rummaged through the briefcase she had brought and took out a folded piece of paper, which she quickly unfolded. She giggled when she read the writing on the paper and hurriedly folded it away before the woman noticed it was a receipt for wheel-balancing from a tyre shop in Umgeni Road.

‘I’m such an idiot,’ she said. ‘Joe. I don’t know where I got John from. Joe. I should have checked my notes. My mother always told me to make sure of everything in life, and once I’d made sure, then to make sure I was sure.’

The old lady nodded. ‘That’s good advice, Lana. I only take messages for Joe; I don’t know him at all. I’ve never met him, only spoken to him on the phone. I can give you the number. Would that help? I’m sure he won’t mind. He sounds like a lovely man, although some of the people who leave messages for him are quite rude.’

‘It’s probably because of the sort of business he’s in,’ Anja suggested, probing as subtly as possible.

Farrell looked to the ceiling for inspiration, frowned and then raised a finger into the air. ‘Air conditioners, I think. No, sorry, that’s Mac’s business. Silly me, he’s a photographer. That’s it.
National Geographic
and all those types of photographs.’

Anja smiled. ‘You’ve got a great memory. Thanks for all your help; you’ve saved me and my job.’

‘You’re welcome, Lana. Remember to always make sure of your facts, dear. You don’t want to get into trouble with Mum. Have a lovely day.’

‘I will, thank you. Oh, I nearly forgot. Can I have Joe’s number?’

Durant and Stephanie lay in bed together, both staring vacantly at different points on the bedroom ceiling. It was a cold evening, and the distance between them was not likely to encourage any body warmth.

Stephanie broke the uncomfortable five-minute silence that had followed a heated exchange of words throughout the early evening.

‘I can’t understand you, Kevin. Why can’t you be as dedicated to me as you are to your job?’

‘I am dedicated to you, just in a different way.’

‘Yes, in a half-hearted way. It’s like you just don’t care about what I’m going through. You don’t ask, you don’t try to help. You’re just hoping and assuming that everything will be okay soon.’

‘I’m hoping that. Yesterday – last night – you seemed to be your old self again.’

‘It’s not going to happen without your help. Remember? The psychologist said that.’

‘I don’t know what more I can do to support you. What do you need?’

‘Stop treating me like a project. Treat me like a human being with emotional needs. I just need to know that you love me no matter what and that you won’t leave me.’

Durant rolled over and put his hands on Stephanie’s wet cheeks. ‘I won’t leave you. I love you. Don’t feel you’re competing with my job for my attention or my loyalty or dedication. My job is just a job; I’m not in love with it.’

‘It sometimes feels that way.’

‘I’m sorry if it does. The Agency doesn’t ask or expect me to sacrifice my personal life or family life, it doesn’t.’

Stephanie bit her shaking bottom lip. ‘But it sometimes feels like you’re filling up your life with so many activities and goals and objectives and projects and cases that there’s no time for me. You surround yourself with distractions so you don’t have to deal with me.’

‘That’s not true, sweetheart. I surround myself with things which need to get done. There’s great responsibility in having a conscience.’

Stephanie frowned and smiled.

‘I want to spend as much time as I can with you,’ Durant went on, ‘and I do. It’s just hard at the moment because of this investigation. It won’t last forever; soon it’ll all be tied up.’

‘And then the next one will start.’

Durant knew it was true. ‘This is how I am. I want to help people.’

‘You can’t even help the person you’re lying next to. Is the stranger out there in the street more important than me?’

Durant frowned and then shook his head. ‘I thought you—’ and his sentence was mercifully cut short by the ringing of his cellphone. He glanced at the bedside clock and knew that a call close to midnight could never be good news.

‘Kevin, it’s Thandi Shezi.’ Her voice was distressed, frantic. ‘Is Mike with you?’

‘He’s not, Thandi. I haven’t seen him or spoken to him the whole day. He called last night, but we couldn’t really chat. I thought he was off sick.’

‘I’m so worried. He normally calls. I’ve tried calling him; his phone is just on voicemail. He never came home last night.’

Durant sat up and rubbed his tired eyes. ‘He didn’t come home at all? You should have called earlier.’

‘I’m sorry; I didn’t want to worry you.’

‘Did he say where he was going to be?’

‘No, he didn’t. He left without saying anything. I’ve called all his friends and his brother, but nobody’s seen him. What can I do?’

‘Just sit tight at home. I’ll also make some calls and see if I can find him. Let me know if he calls you. Was everything okay when he left?’

‘Yes. He was in a hurry to meet someone at Horizons. I thought it was you. He never came home and I thought you guys were busy with something. I couldn’t get hold of him and he never came home.’

‘I’ll find him, Thandi, I promise you.’

Durant drove to the office to see if Shezi’s car was there, drove around the neighbourhood and even phoned some of Shezi’s contacts to see if he was with them. Horizons was still closed so Durant had to wait until opening time at 9 a.m. before he could ask the staff if they’d seen him there. Shezi’s cellphone remained on voicemail, and no one had seen him or heard from him.

By 7 a.m., Durant realised that Shezi wasn’t in any of the obvious places in Durban and he was desperately concerned. When Thandi indicated that she had still heard nothing, he made a call to Masondo. Durant was instructed to use all means available to find Shezi, and at 8 a.m. he phoned a contact at the cellphone company to locate Shezi’s phone signal. The contact sensed the urgency of the request and doubled his usual fee for identifying the cell mast closest to the signal. Durant had no choice but to agree to the fee and within a few minutes, he had a location in Mount Edgecombe, the transmitter closest to Shezi’s cellphone signal.

Durant felt cold and numb while driving to the location north of Durban where sugar cane fields still dominated the patches of landscape which had not been developed into luxury residential complexes. The rain was falling almost horizontally and Durant could barely see through the misted windscreen. Progress was frustratingly slow. The map the cell company contact had faxed through was unclear and confusing, the road names missing. The
GPS
co-ordinates were there, but these were useless without a
GPS
receiver. He eventually spotted the cell mast protruding through the cane fields, but this only made him realise how difficult it would be to find a person in the maze of high cane. He rolled down his window and called Shezi’s name, but the driving rain seemed to swallow his voice before it even left his mouth.