attack. She asked whether he realized what his cholesterol count meant. She asked how much time it would take to stop at a vegetable market, to put some fruit in his attaché case every morning.
Detectives dont carry attaché cases, he wanted to say but didnt. He admitted that it wouldnt be difficult.
And sandwiches? she asked. How much time did it take to wrap a whole wheat sandwich in foil for the following day? And to swallow a plate of bran with skim milk in the morning? And to buy artificial sweeteners for all the tea and coffee in the office? How much time could it take?
Not much, he admitted.
Well then, she said, we can start working. She took out a form that read THE DIET OF . . .
Her pen poised above the open space, she was the epitome of efficiency. First name?
Joubert sighed. Mat.
What?
* * *
The entrance hall of the Bellville South Murder and Robbery Squad had an area where visitors could wait. The walls were bare, the floor was covered with cold gray tiles, and the chairs were civil-service issue, made to last and not necessarily for comfort.
Those who waited there were the family, friends, and relatives of murder or robbery suspects. So why offer such people comfort and amusement in a waiting area? After all, they were probably blood relatives of suspected criminals. This might well have been the thinking of the architects and administrators when the plans were being discussed.
But Mrs. Mavis Petersen didnt agree. The entrance hall was part of her kingdom, adjacent to the reception desk where she held sway. She was a Malay woman, slender and attractive and a beautiful shade of light brown. And she knew the pain of a criminals nearest and dearest. Thats why there were flowers on the reception desk of the Murder and Robbery building every day of the week. And a smile on her face.
But not now.
Sergeant Griessel is missing, she said when Joubert came in and walked to the steel gate that gave access to the rest of the building.
Missing?
He didnt come in this morning, Captain. We phoned but there was no reply. I sent two constables from the station in the van, but his house is locked.
His wife?
She says she hasnt seen him for weeks. And if we find him we might as well ask him where the alimony checks are.
Joubert thought it over, his fingers drumming on the desk.
Maviss voice was suddenly low, disapproving. The Colonel says we dont have to look for him. He says its Adjutant Griesselss way of answering him.
Joubert said nothing.
Hes very different to Colonel Theal, hey, Captain? Her words were an invitation to form an alliance.
Very different, Mavis. Are there any messages for me?
Nothing, Captain.
Im going to try the Outspan. Thats where we found him the previous time. And then Im going home. Tell radio I want to know immediately if they hear anything about Benny.
Very well, Captain.
Joubert walked out.
Such authority, Mavis said with raised eyebrows to the empty entrance hall.
The Outspan Hotel was on Voortrekker Road between Bellville and Stikland, a hotel that had acquired its one star under another management.
Joubert showed his plastic identity card and asked for the register. Only two rooms were occupied, neither by a Griessel. He walked to the bar, a dark room with a low ceiling and somberly paneled in wood.
The first early evening clients were already leaning against the long bar counter, singly, uncomfortable, uncamouflaged by the anonymity conferred by numbers.
The smell rose in Jouberts nostrils. Liquor and tobacco, wood and people, cleaning materials and furniture polish decades of it. It reached a tentacle deep into his memory and brought forgotten images to the surface:
Detectives dont carry attaché cases, he wanted to say but didnt. He admitted that it wouldnt be difficult.
And sandwiches? she asked. How much time did it take to wrap a whole wheat sandwich in foil for the following day? And to swallow a plate of bran with skim milk in the morning? And to buy artificial sweeteners for all the tea and coffee in the office? How much time could it take?
Not much, he admitted.
Well then, she said, we can start working. She took out a form that read THE DIET OF . . .
Her pen poised above the open space, she was the epitome of efficiency. First name?
Joubert sighed. Mat.
What?
* * *
The entrance hall of the Bellville South Murder and Robbery Squad had an area where visitors could wait. The walls were bare, the floor was covered with cold gray tiles, and the chairs were civil-service issue, made to last and not necessarily for comfort.
Those who waited there were the family, friends, and relatives of murder or robbery suspects. So why offer such people comfort and amusement in a waiting area? After all, they were probably blood relatives of suspected criminals. This might well have been the thinking of the architects and administrators when the plans were being discussed.
But Mrs. Mavis Petersen didnt agree. The entrance hall was part of her kingdom, adjacent to the reception desk where she held sway. She was a Malay woman, slender and attractive and a beautiful shade of light brown. And she knew the pain of a criminals nearest and dearest. Thats why there were flowers on the reception desk of the Murder and Robbery building every day of the week. And a smile on her face.
But not now.
Sergeant Griessel is missing, she said when Joubert came in and walked to the steel gate that gave access to the rest of the building.
Missing?
He didnt come in this morning, Captain. We phoned but there was no reply. I sent two constables from the station in the van, but his house is locked.
His wife?
She says she hasnt seen him for weeks. And if we find him we might as well ask him where the alimony checks are.
Joubert thought it over, his fingers drumming on the desk.
Maviss voice was suddenly low, disapproving. The Colonel says we dont have to look for him. He says its Adjutant Griesselss way of answering him.
Joubert said nothing.
Hes very different to Colonel Theal, hey, Captain? Her words were an invitation to form an alliance.
Very different, Mavis. Are there any messages for me?
Nothing, Captain.
Im going to try the Outspan. Thats where we found him the previous time. And then Im going home. Tell radio I want to know immediately if they hear anything about Benny.
Very well, Captain.
Joubert walked out.
Such authority, Mavis said with raised eyebrows to the empty entrance hall.
The Outspan Hotel was on Voortrekker Road between Bellville and Stikland, a hotel that had acquired its one star under another management.
Joubert showed his plastic identity card and asked for the register. Only two rooms were occupied, neither by a Griessel. He walked to the bar, a dark room with a low ceiling and somberly paneled in wood.
The first early evening clients were already leaning against the long bar counter, singly, uncomfortable, uncamouflaged by the anonymity conferred by numbers.
The smell rose in Jouberts nostrils. Liquor and tobacco, wood and people, cleaning materials and furniture polish decades of it. It reached a tentacle deep into his memory and brought forgotten images to the surface:
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