The ice in his eyes tempted Clare to release Jonny Diamond into his custody. Who is this for? asked Clare.
I trade in pleasure, he said. Clare Hart and Milan Savić sat opposite each other. Riedwaan leaned against the wall, watching. The light etched shadows under Savićs eyes, his nose, his fleshy mouth.
Whatever form it takes. Music. Art, food, wine, women. I provide it all, he spread his hands, if it is legal, of course. Rosa was paid very well for this particular performance. If she chose to do extras, she would not be the first to do so. Nor would it be my responsibility as an employer, you understand.
Savić touched a wooden panel and it slid open. On a shelf, a stack of files precisely arranged. He ran his fingers along their spines and pulled one out.
Heres her contract, he said, turning to Clare so that she could read it. Rosalind Wagners ID number, a bland description of her role. A date, a signature. There it is signed and witnessed in triplicate.
Clare skimmed through the legalese. Okay, but wheres Rosa? she said, putting it back on the table.
Rosalind apparently decided to leave us, Dr Hart. His eyes were glacial. I have told you this. Lily has told you this. She was even offered a lift my personal driver. She refused
Do you mean Mikey? Clare cut in.
He leaned back in his chair, face composed, hands steady, though a tightening of the sensuous lips betrayed him.
Remember this, Dr Hart: Rosa approached us. Of course, she knew I wanted to use her, and at first she refused. But then she needed money. She did what was required.
Ive seen what was required, said Clare.
The world has Catholic tastes, Dr Hart, his tone unctuous. Not always pleasing to everyone. Many of the girls who work for me musicians, dancers are beautiful. These are girls who know what they are trading; they give what they have in order to get where they want. Our mutual friend, Irina Petrova, she had many contacts in the orchestras and ballet schools of the old Soviet Union. She organised for them to come here, to the music college. Sometimes they perform here. It works well. Everybody wins. He smiled, shrugged.
But Rosa did not want to work in that way, said Clare.
That is precisely what made her so appealing, Dr Hart. And in the end, the real pleasure is in capitulation. The girl you want, coming to you, begging you for the thing she finds so repugnant. What one must find and tap into is the need that is the true pleasure. Ah, it is a pleasure for the connoisseur.
You know that her grandfather is dying? said Clare. Thats the reason she did it.
What does it matter why? A dismissive sweep of his hand. In the end she came to me and she gave herself over. The rest is unimportant.
She was here, said Riedwaan stepping up to Savić. Weve seen what you did with her, thats not so important you have your contract, youve dealt with your conscience, such as it is. What is important, though, is the fact that no one has seen Rosa Wagner since she was here. How do you feel about explaining that to a magistrate?
The guard cracked his knuckles, moved towards Riedwaan. He had a few centimetres and fifty kilograms on Riedwaan. He also had a gun in his hand.
Mikey, Mikey, relax, said Savić. The captain means no harm. This can all be resolved. Well sit around a table and talk. This indiscretion will be resolved.
There was a discreet knock on the door. The butler, and a man with sloping shoulders carrying a lawyers briefcase in his hand.
Ah, Henry, said Savić. Let me introduce you: Dr Hart, Captain Faizal. We were just getting to know each other, werent we? Leaning over, he laid his hand on Clares arm. I was just explaining the nature of our project.
Dr Hart, Captain Faizal, said the lawyer. Do you have a warrant?
Come, come, said Savić. There is no need for that. This was all a misunderstanding. Everythings in order, unless theres something wrong with the contracts you drew up, Henry?
The lawyers sagging shoulders shifted.
Those contracts are watertight, Mr Savić. You know that.
Of course they are, said Savić. Its resolved now, is it not, Clare?
The use of her first name was an uninvited intimacy.
Nothing is cleared up, said Clare. I want to know where this girl is, and you have given me no answers at all.
Are you suggesting shes on my property? Where would I keep her? Savić stretched his hands out. Please, look around. Be my guest. There are no secrets here.
Mr Savić, sir, said the lawyer. There is no girl, there is no warrant, there is no need to speak further to this woman or her colleague. Youll be hearing from us, Dr Hart, Captain Faizal and so will your superiors.
Lawyers, said Savić with a wink. Never invite them to a party. They cant leave their work at home. But now I must return to my guests below. Mikey will show you around the castle you can check for Rapunzels in the tower and Bluebeards wives in the basement. And then well continue this conversation another time?
Taking a sip of water from a gold-rimmed glass, Savić stood up.
Its late. Mikey, the lady is tired. Will you show them around and then show them out? He ushered the lawyer out, and followed him.
The three people left in the room eyed each other and went downstairs to the cellar. Clare and Riedwaan stood aside as Mikey unlocked a metal grille at the end of the steps. It was cold, the smell of damp not quite masked by the opulent arrangement of lilies on the reception desk. Beyond that, another door. A room full of consoles, couches with plush cushions, bottles of mineral water.
The studio, said Mikey. You can look, but theres nothing to see. In one half of the room, stacks of lights, cables, tracks for cameras. On the other side, a set, props stacked neatly on a stripped bed. Bed sheets, all different colours black, red and white lay in a pile with laundry tags.
No pretty cellists here, you can see. No bodies neither, said Mikey. Youll have to find another tree to bark up.
They didnt shoot us, said Clare, navigating the precipitous driveway.
You dont need to if you own the police, said Riedwaan. You can just pay to make inconvenient evidence go away.
Chadley Wewers, Jonny Diamond, Milan Savić, his lawyer. They all told us the same thing. Clare pulled over, turned to Riedwaan. Maybe they arent lying.
Clare got out and looked down at the valley twinkling below.
Rosa Wagner left the castle and walked this way, Im sure. The road ahead disappeared round a bend. She was terrified, she was humiliated. She first washed herself, trying to erase the pain and the shame. She was trying to keep her mind on the money the time it would buy for her grandfather, for the two of them.
Riedwaan came to stand beside her.
She didnt go back to Handel House, said Clare. She raised her eyes: through gashes in the cloud, the sky swarmed with stars. So where did she go?
Riedwaans lighter flared briefly, he inhaled deeply. He knew she needed time to think.
What if Ive followed the wrong lead? Ill have lost Rosa another thirty-six hours of her life, Clare said.
Youve looked where the evidence led you, said Riedwaan.
Ive failed her, said Clare. Now what do I do?
We go home, we sleep, we look at it tomorrow.
There is no we tomorrow, said Clare. Youre leaving in the morning.
He had no answer to that.
Ill take you back to your bike, said Clare. And we need to talk.
Riedwaan killed his cigarette and flicked it down the slope.
49
Clare took the ocean road, the wind pummelling her car. She opened her window, welcoming the clean, cold air. She parked, went upstairs, and filled the cats bowl. She turned the shower on as hot as she could bear it and scrubbed herself. It was only when she was done and when she looked at herself in the mirror that she realised shed been crying.
Stupid woman, she said to her reflection. Tell him. Get it over with.
Shed left telling him for so long now, there seemed no way of bringing it up casually, in a way that was natural. Simply to say: Im pregnant
and Im going to have a termination all in one easy sentence. As shed practised so often, the words circling in her thoughts but fading to silence when it came to speaking them.
Tell him.
Thats what she wanted, surely? The only option. Or not.
Riedwaan let himself into the flat. There was no sign of Clare, just Fritz outside the bathroom door, her tail flicking.
Clare? he knocked.
No, please. Her voice, muffled.
He opened the door. Fritz shot inside, rubbing her head against Clares thighs. Crouched between the shower and the toilet, Clare sat, her arms wrapped around her legs. Riedwaan dropped down beside her.
Are you sick?
Ive made a mistake.
Tomorrow. Review everything again, said Riedwaan. Therell be something. Youll find it.
Its not that. She dropped her head onto her knees. Im fuck ing pregnant.
Pregnant. Riedwaan squatted beside her. Why didnt you tell me?
Its a total fuck-up.
It might be a fuck-up, Riedwaan put his hand on her shoulder. But its not a mistake. When did you find out?
I did the test yesterday, she said.
But youve known for longer.
Yes, she said. I suppose Ive known.
And you didnt trust me enough to tell me? Anger, pleasure in his tone.
It wasnt you I didnt trust.
Fritz was butting her face against Clares, demanding attention. She pushed the cat away.
I cant do it. I cant have a baby, be a mother, clean up mashed food, all that shit. Her face was streaked with tears. The amount of care just for a cat; it feels like too much sometimes.
Clare, said Riedwaan, smoothing her hair as she dry-heaved. Its a baby, not the end of the world.
For the first time in my life I dont know what to do, said Clare. And it feels wrong. I feel wrong. Im not a mother.
Riedwaan put his hand on her back.
What do you want? he asked.
For this not to be happening, she said. Its not like I wanted it. Its just that my pill didnt work. Like I say, its a mistake.
You cant control everything, Clare, said Riedwaan, standing up, pulling her up too.
Thats what Im afraid of, said Clare.
You just need time to get used to it, said Riedwaan. Well get used to it.
I dont want to get used to it, said Clare, not looking at him. I want to fix it and I cant think about it. Not now. Ive got to find Rosa Wagner. Ive got to find out who did that to little Esther. Theres no one else looking out for either of them.
Clare, that child is alive. Shes recovering. Riedwaan took her by the shoulders. Talk to me. You cant run from this.
Im sorry, Riedwaan. She disentangled herself, as she always did.
You got a whiskey? he asked. We both need one.
Jack Daniels, its in the fridge. Riedwaan put his hand on the small of her back, guided her into the kitchen.
Thats all there is in here, said Riedwaan, opening the door. Whiskey and mayonnaise.
Its been worse, said Clare.
Riedwaan poured a splash for her, a stiffer measure for himself.
Drink it, he said. Its medicinal.
The fire in her belly felt good as she took a sip.
She turned to Riedwaan and said, Look at us, neither of us can hold a relationship together.
Im here, he said. Im not going anywhere.
Apart from Joburg in the morning.
Ill be back.
You need to think first, she said.
For me theres nothing to think, he said. Its you whos the thinker.
Not now. I have to sleep. Fatigue had plagued her almost as long as the morning sickness. Will you hold me?
He pulled Clare close, led her to the bed, drew the duvet over them both. For a moment, fragmented images of Rosa and then little Esther flitted through her consciousness; they merged, whirling past her minds eye as her breathing evened.
Riedwaan lay and listened as the wind dropped. Apart from the sound of the sea, the city was silent.
His phone vibrated, Phiris name on the screen. Riedwaan eased himself out of bed and closed the door behind him. Clare shifted in her sleep, her body taking possession of the bed.
Colonel, said Riedwaan, stepping onto the balcony.
Cweles like a heat-seeking missile, said Phiri. And youre the target.
I thought thered be trouble.
This is more than trouble, Faizal. Let me hear your version of events.
Clare Hart and I were up at Milan Savićs castle this evening, said Riedwaan. Its where Rosa Wagner, the girl Clares looking for, was last seen.
Did you find her? asked Phiri.
No, said Riedwaan.
OK, so tell me what you did find.
Places downstairs for making porn, said Riedwaan. Places upstairs for gentlemens entertainment.
I take it you had a warrant?
No, sir, said Riedwaan. No warrant.
Silence.
Riedwaan felt for his cigarettes, but hed left them in the kitchen.
I spoke to Cyril Jarvis, my Joburg connection, said Riedwaan. He says Savić moved out of Joburg, went off the radar, but theres no reason to believe hes stopped business.
You have evidence, I presume?
Nearly, said Riedwaan.
What is Savić meant to be up to, exactly?
Dealing, said Riedwaan. Drugs, women, extreme porn, thats my theory.
Whats the rest of your theory?
Jakes Cweles in Milan Savićs pocket, said Riedwaan. Cwele gets moved to Cape Town and promoted. He gets oversight of the Gang Unit and Section 28. This goes higher up than just another cop taking some small change.
How high up?
Id say right to the top, said Riedwaan. Wouldnt be the first time, we both know that.
You got proof of that, Faizal?
I just know it, said Riedwaan.
Phiri was silent for so long that Riedwaan thought the connection had dropped.
You get on that plane tomorrow morning. Got to get you out of town.
Sir, said Riedwaan. How often have I been wrong?
Phiri ignored him and said, Ill look into it.
And Clare? asked Riedwaan.
Clare, Im afraid, will have to take care of herself, said Phiri. Cweles cancelling her contract.
Section 28 is her baby, said Riedwaan. Shes not going to let her cases go, shes not going to let Cwele bury the truth.
She doesnt have a choice, said Phiri.
With all due respect, sir, I dont think you know Clare like I do.
Through the window Riedwaan could see Clare sleeping; she looked so young, her blonde hair spread out on the pillow. She turned onto her side, curling herself around her stomach. The duvet gaped, revealing softer contours than her clothes suggested.
Monday
June 18
50
A streak of light dirtied the sky as the first calls of the sea birds drifted up and Clares phone rang.
Leave it, Clare, said Riedwaan. Finish talking to me.
Disentangling herself from his embrace, she answered it.
Piet, she said, sitting up. What?
Sorry to phone so early, Doc, said the pathologist.
Im awake, said Clare.
The woman we exhumed yesterday matches the DNA of Esther, that little girl you found on Saturday.
What sort of a match?
Mother, said Mouton. Daughter.
But the woman died at least a week ago. Clare was already up and opening her cupboard, pulling out clothes.
That solves why Esthers mother wasnt looking for her, said Mouton. So, the question is, who was Esther with? Find that person, you have all your answers, Doc.
Clare ended the call, pushed the duvet aside and sat next to Riedwaan.
The woman in the woods is Esthers mother.
Clare, Riedwaan took her by the shoulders. That womans dead. For ever. The child is alive, shes recovering. Its happened, its past. He put
a hand on her belly. Talk to me about whats between us, about whats going to happen. You cant run from this. The flicker of new life so close, consoled by his warm palm.
All Clare desired in that moment was to lean in and relinquish herself, but she pulled back.
Im not running, she said. I just have something to finish. When its over Ill be able to think.
Clare, youve just told me youre going to have a baby. Our baby, said Riedwaan. This is our lives, our future.
Well talk, she said. I said we would. Just not now.
What will we talk about?
Ill tell you what Ive decided.
Ive got to catch a plane to Joburg now
She was out of his grasp, at the front door, keys and bag in hand.
Clare, this a child its something we decide together.
I know, she said, her head down, pulling on her boots. Just not now. Anyway, its not a child, not yet. Its just a mistake a few cells growing, blame my faulty pill.
Youre not going to end it while Im away?
She stopped, her back stiff.
Clare, answer me, he said. This isnt only about you.
For now it is, Riedwaan, she said. Youll let yourself out, then?
The door shut, and she was gone, striding towards her car. Then she turned at the lights and disappeared into the reluctant morning.
51
There were few cars about, and in Salt River a rag-and-bone man had stopped his cart at the entrance to the morgue. He was negotiating with two bergies trying to sell him a shopping trolley of scavenged street signs. Botha Avenue, one of them, Rhodes Drive another. Clare leaned on her hooter.
Sorry, my lady. The scrap merchant raised his whip. The donkey jerked forward as the sjambok came down. The animal trotted past, nothing but forgiveness in his eyes.
Piet Mouton was in his office. The smell of the bacon sandwich on his desk was overwhelming.
Doc, he said, when she walked in. Youre as white as a sheet. You not feeling so good?
Ive felt better, said Clare, taking the visitors seat. Its just the bacon.
First its bodies, now its bacon, said Mouton, Were never going to make a mortician out of you.
He handed Clare the report on the DNA match.
We ran it through the databases. Theres a name there. Read that. Ill get someone to bring you a cup of tea. Ive got to get started. Looks like it was a busy weekend.
Water Music Page 17
