Читать книгу Blood at Bay - Sue Rabie - Страница 11

David told the police about the accident at the mill. He told them about the piece of paper Peter had asked him to take.

Inspector Govender took out a pencil and pad and started taking notes.

“What was on the paper?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” David replied. “I didn’t see.”

Govender nodded. “You didn’t take it, even though he asked you to?”

“That would have been theft,” David told him. “Wouldn’t it?”

Govender gazed at him blandly. “Did he take it?” he asked.

David shrugged. “He could have. He was holding it before Ms Prinsloo came in. When I next looked his hands were in his pockets.”

“Did Ms Prinsloo see him take it?”

“I’m not sure. She may have suspected it.”

“Why do you think he took it?”

“It seemed important to him. He said it was evidence.”

“Evidence of what?”

“Murder, I think. Peter said the man who was killed in the shredder told him something, that there had been another accident or what he thought was an accident.”

Govender raised his eyebrows. “What was the name of the man Mr Calder was talking to?”

David shook his head. “I don’t know. Peter didn’t say.”

The inspector gave him a jaundiced stare and then returned his attention to his notebook. “So you don’t know the name of the man Mr Calder was talking to, the same man that was killed in the shredders?”

“No.”

“And you don’t know who the other accident involved, the one the man killed in the shredder told Mr Calder about?”

“Sorry,” David said apologetically.

Govender glanced across to the coroner. “You’d better hold off labelling this as accidental death, Doc.”

The doctor sighed. “We’ll know more after the autopsy,” he said.

Govender nodded and turned back to David. “Perhaps Ms Barnett knows more about these accidents?” he suggested.

“I’m sure she doesn’t,” David said. “We were standing together when Peter spoke to us. Besides, I think Ms Barnett has had enough. She needs to go home.”

Inspector Govender cleared his throat. “Home where?”

David didn’t rise to the bait. “Ms Barnett tells me she lives in Umhlanga Rocks, Inspector Govender. Although I’ve never been there.”

The inspector smiled almost imperceptibly.

They left the sad wreckage of Peter Calder’s house behind and returned to the sergeant waiting with Kathy and Peter’s father.

“David?” Kathy asked tentatively as he took off the hard hat and handed it to the inspector. She glanced at Andrew Calder, who was staring with quiet dread at David.

It was Inspector Govender who ultimately gave him the bad news. “I’m afraid the identification was positive, Mr Calder,” he said as gently as he could. “Mr Roth has confirmed that the body is that of your son.”

There was a long moment of silence and then the tears finally fell from Andrew Calder’s eyes. He wiped at them self-consciously, nodding jerkily at Govender’s statement. “Thank you,” he managed. He looked at David. “And you too.”

David nodded but didn’t reply. There was nothing left to say.

“Mr Calder?” Govender said carefully. “One of my men can take you home if you like?”

“No,” Calder told the policeman. “I’m going with Peter. I’d like to follow his body to the morgue if I may.”

“Of course,” Inspector Govender said. “We’ll go together.” He turned to David and Kathy. “We’d appreciate it if we could question both of you later. Regarding Peter’s work at the mill.”

Kathy frowned, clearly confused as to why Govender needed to know about the audit. David replied in the affirmative for both of them and then waited for Kathy to kiss Andrew Calder goodbye. They looked on as the elderly man watched the medical examiner and three paramedics manoeuvre a gurney with Peter Calder’s body in the body bag down the front steps of the burnt house. The two policemen steered Andrew Calder towards the waiting ambulance.

“Oh God,” Kathy moaned. “Poor Andrew.”

David held her by the shoulders. “Let’s go. I’ll take you back to your car.” He guided her away from the destruction of the fire and the gaggle of onlookers that was still gawking at the ruins.

Just yesterday he would have been happy to be with Kathy Barnett, to have someone at his side. But today, with the smell of smoke and death in the air, and the bitter memory of Peter Calder’s gruesome remains still in his memory, it felt like a lead weight in his stomach.

***

The kitten was fast asleep when they got back to his flat. Kathy’s keys were still upstairs on David’s coffee table, but when they went to fetch them she simply sat down on the sofa in a daze.

“Sorry,” she said absently.

“It’s not a problem,” he replied. “I understand.”

The kitten had used the cat litter, for which David was grateful. Then it had curled up in the corner of the sofa and fallen asleep. He was about to pick up the creature and remove it to its folded tea towel in the kitchen when Kathy took it from him. She hadn’t said much on their way back and she was still silent as she sat on the sofa, just holding the sleepy-eyed kitten to her chest.

David sat down next to her, wondering whether to offer her sympathy or show compassion for what she had just been through. He ended up just sitting there, unable to do either.

It was eventually the kitten that broke the spell. It woke fully and started meowing and squirming. It was hungry. Kathy got up and went to his kitchen to see what she could feed it. She found the opened can of tuna in the fridge and, amid much fawning and meowing and clawing at legs, the kitten eventually got its supper.

That’s when David realised how late it was, and even after what he had seen in Peter Calder’s bedroom earlier that evening, his stomach suggested it needed something to eat. He joined Kathy in the kitchen. She turned her back as he entered, brushing at her cheeks as she fussed unnecessarily over the cat.

“Stay for supper,” he asked her on impulse. “There’s not much in the fridge, but at least neither of us will have to eat alone.”

She agreed silently, wiping away the tears. “You haven’t told me her name yet?” It was Kathy’s first question after she had regained control. She clearly didn’t want to talk about Peter.

“She hasn’t got one,” David told her. “She was a stowaway, on board a yacht.” He told her at length about his uncle and the favour he had asked, simply to take her mind off the day’s events. While he spoke, he went about making dinner: tinned mushrooms and tomato paste fried up in olive oil and pesto over a healthy helping of spaghetti. He was surprised to find the spaghetti at the back of a cupboard and wondered how old it was. Not that old, he thought when he tasted the dinner. The kitten tried to get at his meal, but he picked it up by the scruff of its neck and put it on the floor and told it no.

Kathy smiled, for the first time. “Well, then, Stowaway’s the perfect name,” she told him. “What are you going to do with her?”

David knew the kitten would get her talking again. “Essentially, she’s a boat cat. I just brought her home to feed her up a bit. But from tomorrow she’s back on board.”

“Oh, David, you can’t do that!”

He looked up at her. “Why ever not?”

“She’s too small! How will she manage all on her own?”

David grunted. “She managed quite well on her own for three days. And before that too.”

“Yes, but look at her! She’s skin and bone and her coat is all rough.”

David smiled as Kathy started cleaning the kitten’s matted fur with a damp cloth. “Don’t worry,” he told her. “It looks like I’m going to be spending a lot of time on the boat with her. I’ll feed her every day and she can take care of the cockroach and rat problem.”

Kathy pulled a face. “Well, once your cockroach and rat problem is solved I think I’ll need to come and inspect her living conditions.”

David nodded. “Deal.”

They sat for a while, watching Stowaway as she investigated the flat and frolicked with computer cables.

“What’s going to happen now?” Kathy eventually asked.

David was silent, wondering how to answer. “There’ll be an investigation,” he told her quietly. “And more questions about Peter.”

“About how he died?”

She had to know; he had to tell her about the missing document. “No,” David told her as gently as he could. “About what he took.”

Kathy frowned at him. “What are you talking about?”

David sat forward on his chair. “Kathy, remember that piece of paper Peter found at the mill? Well, he must have taken it, yesterday. He wanted me to take it at first and when I refused he took it himself.”

“He wouldn’t,” she denied. “We’re not allowed to remove anything from an audit.”

“Well, he did. He must have put it in his pocket and walked out of the room with it.”

“Why?”

“To give to you?” David suggested. “When he came to look for you in the toilets?”

“He didn’t give me anything,” she told him. “Not that I can remember, anyway. I was so upset at the time, I left him and Ms Prinsloo to pack everything away and went home. I never saw him again.”

They fell silent, the finality of her words affecting both of them. It was a while before she spoke again. “What about a funeral?” she asked. “Who’s going to arrange everything?”

David hesitated. “There won’t be a funeral. At least not until the police release Peter’s body.”

Kathy stared at him. “What do you mean? Why wouldn’t they release his body?”

She didn’t know. She hadn’t realised. “There might be foul play involved,” David said carefully. “The fire might not have been an accident.”

“What?” she whispered. “You mean Peter may have been murdered? I don’t believe it. Why would someone do that?”

“For that piece of paper,” David explained.

“Oh God,” she whispered. “Peter’s parents. How awful for them.”

David took her hand over the table, just to comfort her. She held his hand tightly, fresh tears coming to her eyes. She squeezed his hand once and then let go. “Do you mind? Can I stay? Tonight? I don’t think I can face the trip back.”

He was grateful she had let his hand go because his palms had suddenly become very clammy. “Of course,” he said. “Stay as long as you like.”