Pale Horses

by Jassy Mackenzie

‘I did it as a prank,’ she explained. ‘I never meant to cause trouble, but I wanted to get the message across.’

  ‘Bhavna, why on earth would you want to play a prank on a police detective? And what message did you want to convey? Is a friend or a relative of yours involved in a case he is handling?’

  ‘You really don’t understand, do you?’ Bhavna said, and yet again Jade had the impression she was trying not to roll her eyes as she spoke.

  Teenagers. Why anyone would ever want one was beyond Jade.

  ‘No, I obviously haven’t got a clue. So, handicapped as I am by not knowing everything there is to know, are you going to tell me?’

  Looking slightly shamefaced, Bhavna responded. ‘Well, I didn’t do it to cause trouble with the police detective. I did it to get back at his wife, that bitch Naisha.’

  Jade had the disconcerting feeling that her world was spinning suddenly out of control. She drew in a long slow breath and did her best to maintain a neutral expression.

  ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘You promise I won’t get into trouble?’

  ‘Bhavna, I can’t promise you anything until I know exactly what the situation is.’

  ‘Well, she suspended my mom from work. Who just happened to be her best friend.’

  ‘When did this happen?’

  ‘I don’t know. A month ago, maybe.’

  ‘And your mom worked with Naisha at Home Affairs?’

  ‘Not exactly. She headed up the Commissioner Street branch. They used to work together until Naisha moved to Pretoria.’

  ‘So then why did Naisha end up suspending her?’

  Bhavna shrugged, her bony shoulders turning it into an expressive gesture. ‘There was corruption in the department. She had to blame someone, didn’t she, or it would end up looking like it was all her fault, even though nothing was proved.’

  As she seemed to have found her conversational stride, Jade nodded encouragingly and waited for Bhavna to carry on.

  ‘But anyway it was still a totally unfair thing to do. My mom practically had, like, a breakdown. She really struggled after that. Everyone in the department hated her. She cried every night until the day she finally resigned and then they made her clear her desk and leave that afternoon. She’s got another job now, with my uncle’s company, and so now I thought, well, I’ll show Naisha that I know about her.’

  ‘Why leave the notes with her husband, then?’

  ‘Because that was the whole point. I knew he’d tell her about the notes, so she would know, and it would make her feel bad inside. And scared that he’d find out.’

  ‘To be honest with you, Bhavna, I don’t think he did tell her about them. You see, he thought they were related to one of the cases he was working on.’

  ‘Oh.’ Bhavna stared down at her teacup, disappointed.

  The one remaining waitress was casting impatient looks in their direction, in the manner of a woman who had a taxi to catch. Jade asked for the bill and put two twenty-rand notes under the salt cellar.

  But something that Bhavna had said didn’t make sense. Jade decided to probe a little.

  ‘You said if Naisha knew about the notes, she would be worried David would find out.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Find out what? Your notes were very cryptic.’

  ‘Not to her, they wouldn’t be.’ Bhavna treated her to a Mona Lisa smile. ‘You see, she would know immediately what they meant.’

  ‘Well, would you mind explaining to me?’

  ‘They meant that the baby she’s about to have probably isn’t her husband’s,’ Bhavna said, as casually as if she’d been telling Jade what she’d had for lunch.

  Jade couldn’t help it. She felt her mouth fall open.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Because she told my mom. Like I said, they were very close friends. They talked about stuff like that. And she made my mom help her even though she didn’t want to, and didn’t approve.’

  ‘And you know all this how?’

  ‘Our house is small, and when those two talk, they get loud. When I realised it sounded interesting, I started listening.’

  ‘Could you tell me exactly what happened?’

  ‘Well, she came round to visit my mom a while back. Nearly nine months ago now. She said she’d just slept with her husband again and she thought there was a chance she could be pregnant. They talked about it for a while, and by the end Naisha was actually hoping she was. She said this would be her chance to get back together with him.’

  ‘Go on,’ Jade said. She was surprised by how calm she sounded.

  ‘Well then she phoned a bit later and I was interested to hear what happened so I picked up the other extension and, well … I kind of listened in. She said to my mom she didn’t think she could be pregnant, that it had been too early. Then she said she needed to find a donor. She said this would be her only chance. She wanted her husband back and she wanted another baby.’

  ‘What did your mother say?’

  ‘My mom was against it. She said it would be wrong to do that. She didn’t approve. But in the end she gave Naisha the number of a place she knew.’

  ‘What place was that?’

  Another shrug. ‘Don’t know. Some fertility clinic place. I know Naisha went there, because she phoned afterwards to thank my mom. But I don’t think they were such good friends after that any more. Like I said, my mom disapproved.’ She pushed her cup away and stared across the table at Jade. ‘So, do you think I’m going to get into trouble?’

  ‘I wouldn’t leave any more notes if I were you.’ Did this precise, restrained voice belong to her? It seemed impossible, Jade thought.

  ‘Well, it was fun doing it for a while but it was starting to become tedious. And varsity’s getting busy from next week. In any case that gym is creepy. I get scared going there. And my mom’s feeling better now and that’s the main thing.’

  They stood up and walked over to the exit. Through the grimy glass, Jade could see the rush-hour traffic was thicker now. Cars practically gridlocked. Taxi drivers making their own rules, blowing an incessant tantivy on their hooters as they wove their battered Hiaces in and out of the slow-moving rows.

  It was all the same as it had been ten minutes ago, but Jade stared out as if she’d never seen it before. It was the same but she was not. What Bhavna had told her had changed her world.

  ‘Well, nice meeting you, er …’ Bhavna hesitated, obviously realising too late that she hadn’t asked Jade her name. Jade didn’t fill her in. She just said goodbye and walked outside into the evening noise, watching the student as she hitched her bag over her shoulder and headed off in the direction of the university.

  49

  Jade retraced her steps along the now-darkening streets. A hundred different emotions clouded her thoughts, but as she walked, one became stronger, standing out until it eclipsed all others.

  She felt sick with betrayal.

  It was not David who had betrayed her. It was Naisha.

  Up until recently, Jade had always considered her unspoken war with David’s wife to be a fair fight. After all, David had had free choice as to whom he decided to spend his time with, and as she knew only too well there were pros and cons to both decisions. His relationship with Naisha was loveless, but she was the mother of his son, Kevin. His relationship with Jade was filled with passion, but she could be a cold-hearted killer who was capable, through her actions, of defying everything that he stood for as a policeman.

  Then Naisha had fallen pregnant after David had spent just one misguided night with her. That meant the decision had been made for David. He could no more turn his back on this situation than he could stop breathing.

  Jade had accepted this as the workings of fate. Why had she not questioned it at the time?

  Now it was all too clear that Naisha had betrayed them both. She had broken the rules. She had visited a fertility clinic soon after she’d slept with David and, through artificial insemination, had made sur
e that their one night together had resulted in a pregnancy.

  Now the notes made sense.

  ‘Did you know you have a double? Who’s the proud father-to-be then?’

  It would have been a challenge, Jade thought bitterly, to find a donor who matched David’s description. More likely, Naisa would have chosen somebody who looked like her.

  According to Bhavna’s explanation, there was a small possibility that Naisha’s child was actually David’s. There was a much greater chance, though, that Naisha, with a cunning born of desperation, had given fate a helping hand.

  She had wanted two things: another child and David back. Clearly, the two did not have to be directly related. Through this single, startlingly devious act, she had managed to achieve both.

  Traitor.

  Jade let out a deep sigh, realising that her nails were digging deeply and painfully into her palms. With an effort she unclenched her hands. Her fingers felt stiff and sore.

  She turned the corner and there, ahead of her, was David’s car. The note that Bhavna had left was still pinned under the windscreen wiper. She decided to remove it. Keep it, perhaps, until she’d had a chance to think more logically about the situation and what she should do.

  But before she’d crossed the street, David strode out of the gym, kit bag slung over his shoulder. He stopped dead when he saw the note and then approached the car cautiously, eyeing the folded letter as if it might actually prove to be explosive.

  By the time Jade had crossed the street, it was too late. He’d opened it and was frowning as he read it. His expression dissolved as he looked up and saw her standing on the other side of the car.

  ‘Got another one here, Jadey, as you can see,’ he said. ‘This one’s a direct bloody threat. It says: ‘Who’s going to be a daddy soon, then? You … or maybe not?’’ He met her eyes and she saw his face as if for the first time. Not the tough, cynical David she knew and loved but a careworn and vulnerable man who feared his family was at risk.

  ‘I don’t know what to do,’ he said. ‘I really didn’t want to involve Naisha in this but it looks as if I’m going to have to install extra security precautions, in which case I’m going to have to tell her.’

  ‘Why don’t you do that?’ Jade found herself saying. Despite her best efforts at control she spat the words out and David glanced at her, frowning.

  ‘You think I should?’

  ‘I’d tell her everything. Tell her about all the notes. Even tell her what’s in them. You never know, David, somebody could be trying to get at her through you. A disgruntled ex-employee, perhaps.’

  ‘Now you mention it, there was someone she suspended a month or two back. Perhaps I’ll do that, then.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘Jade, do you have time to …?’

  ‘I’m busy now,’ she snapped, knowing her abrupt response would be hurtful and that she was powerless to explain it.

  Leaving David standing by his car, still holding the note and now staring at her in concern, she turned and jogged back across the road. She wrenched her car door open and twisted the key in the ignition with so much force she thought for a moment she’d broken it.

  She didn’t look back at David. Found she couldn’t. Imagining the demurely dressed Naisha standing in the path of her car, she mashed her foot down on the accelerator and sent the vehicle screaming forward.

  There!

  Smack!

  Take that, you lying bitch!

  When David told Naisha about the notes, perhaps his wife would crumble and confess what she had done. If so, then David would be free to make his own decisions.

  But if Naisha held her nerve and kept her secrets … Well, then, a decision would still have to be made.

  And Jade would be only too willing to make it for her.

  50

  It was fully dark when Ntombi arrived back in Johannesburg. Once again, she was exhausted. So exhausted that her arms were trembling and her face felt tight and stiff from fighting off the slackness that preceded sleep.

  Terror had kept her awake through the endless, flat afternoon hours on the N1 from Bloemfontein. But the killer had done and said nothing more; he’d simply reclined in his seat and gone to sleep. A light sleep, such as a predator might indulge in. The slowing of the car when she reached a tollgate woke him immediately.

  Now she was drained; empty; dead. Driving automatically, her reactions gluey and hopelessly slow. In this state, she knew she could not hope to avoid an accident, should that situation occur. Desperately, she tried to recite recipes to herself; this time not to calm her thoughts but to keep herself awake.

  The Baharat combination of spices that she’d discovered in Silvena Rowe’s Nine-Spice Lamb dish and used many times in dishes since then. ‘Three teaspoons mustard seeds. Three tablespoons coriander seeds. Three teaspoons fennel seeds. Two cinnamon sticks. Three teaspoons ground nutmeg, three tablespoons cumin seeds, six tablespoons dried thyme and oregano, black peppercorns …’

  But the image of the recipe blurred and softened and the words she had memorised so faithfully slipped from her mind.

  And then, just as she thought they were home, that this savage journey would soon be over, the man directed her to turn right, towards the suburb beyond Randburg, and her nerves started jangling all over again. This route was taking them in the direction of the house where she had been made to drop off the supposedly sleeping woman.

  Was she still imprisoned there? If so, what was he planning to do with her now? And what did this mean for Ntombi?

  She glanced at the street sign as they turned into the road. ‘Robin Avenue’. Her eyes strained into the darkness searching for a house number.

  None to be seen. But it was the third house from the corner. That was easy to remember. The third house on Robin from the corner of Rabie Street. The one with the tall, wood-panelled gate. From his pocket the man produced a remote control and the gate slid smoothly open.

  Ntombi braked hard as she saw a shabbily dressed man standing in the road as they turned in, but on closer inspection she realised he was only a pedestrian, politely waiting for them before he continued on his way.

  The man pressed the button again and the gate closed behind them.

  ‘Stay here,’ he said, as if she had a choice, as he opened the passenger door.

  Climbing out, he walked purposefully towards the front door before disappearing into the darkened house.

  Leaving Ntombi with no means of escape … and no phone.

  Scenarios, each more desperate and ludicrous than the last, spun through her head. She could hide in the garden – but she knew he would find her.

  She could reverse the car into the gate, try to knock it down – but the gate was tall and solid and the driveway was a steep uphill slope. She knew that was also a battle she would not win.

  She could simply close her eyes and let herself rest, after all that had happened. One last, short, blissful sleep before her evil passenger – and her waking nightmare – returned.

  Ntombi rested her cheek against the cold glass of the window. Bizarrely, despite the terror of her situation, she was so tired that she knew sleep would come easily. Another moment or two, and she could be dreaming … dreaming of Khumalo her husband, and her little boy whom she knew deep down she would never see again.

  The pedestrian!

  The thought sliced through her exhaustion like a razor. She sat bolt upright, eyes wide, already fumbling to undo her seatbelt with her tired and shaking hands.

  It was her only chance. She had to do it, and do it now. The killer could return any minute. How long had it taken him last time to subdue and drug the woman? She could not remember, but it had not been too long.

  Ntombi ran up the steep driveway to the gate and slid her fingers through the wooden panels, peering through the slits to see if she could spot him. She thought she could hear the scrunch of his footsteps. But how to get his attention? She didn’t dare to rattle the gate. That would make too much noise and the man inside
would hear. But perhaps she could speak to him …

  ‘Hello?’ she called softly. ‘Are you there? Hello! I need help.’

  Silence.

  Ntombi’s hopes crashed. He hadn’t heard her.

  But then she realised the silence meant that he had stopped walking. Perhaps he had heard.

  ‘Please, could you come here quickly?’ she asked again.

  Now the footsteps came back in her direction. And then she saw him. A tall, young man in a worn blue overall, his clothes flecked with cement stains. A construction worker.

  ‘What is it, sister?’ he asked. He was looking at her in puzzlement, as if wondering what a well-dressed woman driving a luxury car could possibly need from him.

  She needed to be fast.

  ‘Do you have a phone? I desperately need to make a call.’

  She saw him hesitate. ‘I have one, but not much airtime.’

  ‘Please. I will pay you.’ She rummaged in her pocket and came out with a crumpled ten-rand note and a handful of change. ‘It’s not much but it’s all I have. I need to be quick, though. Please help me.’

  He pushed the phone through the gap in the gate. She threw the money at him and in her haste the coins fell to the ground and she heard them clicking and jangling into the darkness. The construction worker bent down to hunt for them and Ntombi jabbed at the scratched and softened keyboard of his phone, dialling the number of the only person who could possibly help her, pressing the keys as fast as she could.

  Thirty-eight, forty-two …

  Please answer, she prayed, waiting for the call to connect and the person at the other end to pick up.

  Please answer …

  51

  Back home, after a much-needed shower, Jade took her time getting ready for her evening dinner date. Unusually for her, she took extra care with her appearance. She considered the options in her rather limited wardrobe before deciding on one of the few dresses that she owned – a clingy black garment with a scoop neck, lace sleeves, and a lace-trimmed skirt whose hem didn’t quite reach her knees.

  After some further thought she added a pair of sheer stockings and chic, black leather ankle-length boots. Around her neck she fastened a string of hematite beads and she clipped a matching bracelet around her left wrist.