Recipes for Love and Murder (33 page)

Kannemeyer stayed on the stoep. I could see his legs, still and solid, through the door. He was watching the copper and flame colours of the sunset. Because of all those clouds, the sky was really showing off.

The bolognaise was marinating nicely in the hotbox. I popped the spaghetti in the boiling water and went out to the stoep.

Kannemeyer made a little grunting noise when I sat down, and together we watched the end of the sunset performance.

The red clouds did their last, slow dance. They reminded me of the bloody pattern I had seen that morning. It looked less like a phoenix now and more like a dead rabbit. The red faded away and the dark curtains closed. The show was over.

We ate supper out on the stoep.

‘Mmm, lekker,' said Kannemeyer.

The crickets were cricking and the bolognaise was delicious. I should have felt peaceful, but I knew something was wrong. Not just a small thing, like too little salt, or even a bigger problem like overcooked spaghetti. But something really bad.

So when the phone rang, I knew it wouldn't be good news.

It was Reghardt.

Jessie had disappeared.

CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO

‘She's not at her house,' said Reghardt. ‘She's not anywhere.'

I sat down slowly and held the phone tight in my hand.

‘I dropped her at the
Gazette
,' I said, ‘around six or half past.'

‘I've been there. I've been everywhere. I was going to fetch her at her house at half past seven. She was coming to my house for supper.'

‘She might have forgotten?'

‘No. She knew I was making her bobotie.'

‘You haven't had a fight with her or anything like that?'

‘No. Nothing like that.'

Kannemeyer came inside and stood in the kitchen.

‘Henk, it's Reghardt. Jessie's gone missing.'

‘But she did phone me earlier, on my cell,' said Reghardt. ‘I was on a call-out. Mrs Kromberg thought there was a burglar, but it turned out to be a mongoose. I said I'd phone back, and then when I did, the phone cut out.'

‘What did Jessie say, exactly?'

‘She said, I need to talk to you. Are you at the station? And I said, no, I'm on a call-out, I'll phone you back now-now. And she said, where are you? Shit. My phone. I heard a beep and the line went dead. I think her battery went flat. She's got one of those fancy phones that's always going flat. My phone I only need to charge every three days.'

‘Reghardt,' I said, because he was losing the story.

‘I called her two minutes later. But it just went to her voice message.'

‘What time did she phone you?'

‘Six fifty-three,' he said. ‘It's on my cell. I was a bit worried but I knew I'd see her later. And we'd sort it out then.'

‘Did she sound upset? Cross with you?'

‘No, not cross. Just like it was important. Jessie's like that, she gets excited about things.'

‘I wonder if she was on to something. A story. A lead in our case?'

‘The murders. That's what worries me. After those threats . . . '

‘She's only been gone two hours,' I said to make him feel better.

But it didn't make me feel any better.

‘Let me speak,' said Kannemeyer, and I handed him the phone.

He listened for a minute before he rattled out orders to Reghardt in high-speed Afrikaans. Then he called the police station. In five minutes he'd organised a guard for Hattie, a policeman to visit Jessie's house and someone to go with a photo of Jessie to all the restaurants and bars, and to drive the streets looking for her scooter. It was a small town. Not many places would be open.

He put down the phone and I called Hattie.

‘Jessie's gone missing,' I said. ‘They are sending someone to guard your house.'

‘God Almighty,' she said. ‘I prayed this wouldn't happen.'

‘They're looking everywhere. She's only been missing two hours.'

Kannemeyer was carrying in the dishes from outside.

Hattie and I sat in silence with the phone line between us. I could hear the crickets outside and a dull hum on the line. We were waiting for words of comfort to give to each other, but could not find any.

‘God Almighty,' she said again before we hung up.

‘You'd better go,' I said to Kannemeyer, taking an empty pot out of his hands.

‘I'm not going anywhere,' he said.

‘You've got to find Jessie,' I said. ‘It's your job.'

‘My job tonight is to make sure nothing happens to you,' he said.

‘Henk,' I said. ‘You've got to look for her.'

‘I'm staying here.'

I wanted to shout, but instead I did the dishes. In a way that was more noisy than usual.

‘So you want us to do nothing?' I said over the clatter. ‘While she could be in the hands of that . . . that monster?'

Henk took the dishcloth and was drying what I washed. The noisier my washing, the quieter his drying.

‘We have to do something, Henk,' I said, banging down a pot on the sink counter.

‘We are doing everything we can. They are searching all over. We could get word she's okay any minute now. It doesn't help to get all upset.'

His phone rang. He put down the dishcloth and answered.

‘Lieutenant Kannemeyer. Ja . . . Ja . . . And the hotel too? Okay. Keep looking for the scooter. When you've covered the dorp, move on to the farms outside of town.'

I turned to look at him.

‘Nothing,' he said. ‘Yet.'

I put my hands into the warm soapy water, and closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

Henk was right. It didn't help to get upset. What would help was to find the murderer. I prepared a pot of coffee and took it onto the stoep with a tin of beskuit. I turned on the outside light. Then I went and fetched my notebook and pen.

‘Come,' I said. ‘Time to talk.'

Henk poured the coffee.

‘I don't suppose you will consider leaving town now?' he asked.

‘The time is finished and over for you to tell us not to be involved. We need to work together.'

Kannemeyer raised an eyebrow. The coffee was too hot, and he blew on it.

It was warm and muggy because of the clouds, and there were insects flying onto the stoep, attracted by the light.

‘Henk, nothing you say will be reported in the
Gazette
until you give permission, I promise you. But there are two people dead, and now Jessie's disappeared. I know I am not a policewoman, but like it or not I am involved in the case. If we can work together, maybe we can save a life here. Jessie's life.'

He twirled a tip of his moustache and said: ‘Okay, Maria. What do you want to know?'

‘Everything,' I said, opening the notebook. ‘We told you what we know. Now it's your turn.'

We sat late into the night, talking about suspects and motives and investigations. The moonlight slipped through a gap in the clouds and lit up the big gwarrie tree in the veld as he told me what the police had been busy doing.

‘Piet checked on John's tyres at the farm. They don't match. He's also got an alibi from his girlfriend for both murders.'

‘But wouldn't she lie for him?' I asked.

‘Maybe,' Kannemeyer said. ‘Quin Crush delivered a pile of sand to the station. We're getting people with Firestone tyres to drive across it. Once we've been through our suspects, we've also got a list of sales in this area from the dealers, HiWay Tyres.'

‘Don't forget that Seventh-day Adventist,' I said. ‘And Mr Marius, of course.'

‘Marius was meant to come in for the tyre test today, but he didn't, so I'm going to fetch him from his house first thing tomorrow.'

‘What have you learned about him?'

The insects were thick around the light now. Big moths, a green praying mantis, and some other little flying things.

‘Shaft is his client, and they want to frack in this area. Marius has no alibi for the morning of Martine's murder. He has one for the night of Lawrence's murder. From his wife. But I visited there and it looks to me like they sleep in separate rooms.'

The moths were all throwing themselves at the light. The mantis was sitting next to it. Hunting.

‘Has he got a basement or anywhere he could hide someone?'

‘Not that I could see. But if Jessie's still missing, I'll get a warrant to search tomorrow. I might bring his wife in for questioning. I have a feeling she knows something. She seems scared of him.'

I poured us both another cup of coffee.

‘What else have you found?' I said.

‘Martine's most recent accounts show a deposit of forty thousand rand.'

I frowned, and said: ‘We didn't see . . . I suppose her most recent bank statements wouldn't have been posted to her yet.'

‘We got three years of statements from the bank.'

‘Do you think it could have been a deposit for the sale of her property?' I said.

‘Could be. It was a cash deposit,' he said. ‘Made at a Standard Bank in Riversdale. The name given on the deposit slip is
V
.
Niemand
.'

‘
V. No one.
A false name. Martine told me she was making a plan to leave. I wonder if this was part of it.'

‘Maybe. Up till now all there has been is her regular salary from the Spar.'

A fat little gecko was heading down the wall towards the insects. My hand went to my arm, and I stroked the place where Jessie had her tattoo.

‘And the pomegranate juice, with the sleeping pills in?' I said.

‘We think the murderer probably took it to her. The teller says Anna bought it. But we're not sure she's reliable. We believe Anna bought the six bottles today, but not necessarily the one on the day of Martine's murder.'

‘Thank goodness, I thought you'd take her word.'

‘We aren't fools. She's just trying to please her boss. And the other tellers can't remember.'

‘What happened with those petty thefts at the Spar?' I asked.

‘We didn't catch them, but it seems to have stopped.' He looked at me. ‘What? What do you know about that, Tannie Maria?'

I opened my eyes wide and shook my head.

‘Who else knew Martine liked pomegranate juice?' I said. ‘Anna, Dirk, David? Candice?'

‘We can be sure that Dirk and Anna were in the hospital for Lawrence's murder. And Dirk's work gives him an alibi for Martine's. We are busy checking on the other alibis.'

‘And has forensics found anything?' I said. ‘What about my veldskoene that were cut up? And the letter sent to me?'

When the gecko was just behind the mantis, the mantis whirred up into the air and landed on the other side of the light. There were even more moths now, flying around, bashing their wings on the globe.

‘Oudtshoorn LCRC tested for prints – there was nothing. For other investigations they had to send the shoes to the Cape Town forensics lab. No results there yet.'

‘Why not? Don't they know it's urgent?'

‘Cape Town forensics lab has to serve a hundred and fifty police stations. And there's a lot more crime in the city. Results will take a month, if we're lucky. The fluids are tested up here in Oudtshoorn. The red stuff on your letter was blood. Fresh blood. But it wasn't human. They have sent it off to the vet lab for tests. Everything takes time.'

‘We haven't got time,' I said.

Kannemeyer looked at his watch and said, ‘We need to get some sleep.'

‘We haven't finished.'

‘Tomorrow.'

I put out a sheet and pillow for him on the couch and I went to bed. I lay there in the dark, worrying about Jessie. I was still awake after the crickets went to sleep. My thoughts went round and round like the moths at the light.

CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE

I woke to the sound of thunder. I sat straight up. Where was Jessie?

It was light. I'd overslept. The last time I'd heard thunder was with Jessie, the night of Lawrence's murder. My spinning thoughts were now focused, hunting:

What was the murderer doing there that night? Why was he looking in her study? Did he find what he wanted?

Anna told me that the study was messed up again. Dirk thought it was Martine's ghost. Anna thought it was Dirk. But what if it was the murderer? Still looking?

And if he didn't find what he wanted – where was it?

The thunder was rumbling but no rain was falling. I looked out of my window. The clouds were dark and heavy. It felt like they were about to burst.

Her office at work, I thought. She would have papers there.

I got dressed then went into the lounge.

‘Henk?' I called.

There was a crash of thunder and a flash of lightning and the heavens opened and fell onto my house. Rain battered down on my roof.

I looked out onto the stoep. Not Kannemeyer but Vorster. He spoke but I couldn't hear him above the rain.

I went closer and asked him: ‘Any news? About Jessie.'

He shook his head. I stood on the stoep and watched it pouring down. It washed away the view of the hills and mountains. I could only just see the big gwarrie tree.

It was good to have rain, but I could feel no gladness. I was too worried about Jessie. I prayed she was okay. Can I call it prayer? I sent my feeling of longing, that was as strong as an arrow in my heart, up into the sky:

Rain down on Jessie. Keep her safe. Lead me to her
.

I went and stood out in the rain. The water flattened my hair, ran down my face, wet my clothes. Vorster must have thought I was mad, but I didn't care.

Help me find Jessie
, I asked the rain.
Alive.

Since I was already wet, I walked around the back of my house to check on my chickens. They were all there, tucked under the shelter of their hok.

They gave me a couple of warm eggs and I cupped them in my wet hands. My veldskoene had handled the water, but I needed to change into dry clothes. I put on my pale blue dress with buttons down the front. I fried and ate the eggs for breakfast. Then I phoned Hattie at the office.