Читать книгу Blood at Bay - Sue Rabie - Страница 7

David stood and stared along with the rest of the crowd as paramedics pushed their way through the gathering to the managers at the front.

“Ngeke bamenza lutho,” the driver of the cane truck whispered. “Usefile.” David’s Zulu was rusty, but he could have sworn the man said they can’t do anything for him, that he was dead.

A white woman was standing in front of the driver, and as he spoke she turned. She was dressed in a short grey skirt, her long legs fitting neatly into court shoes that were a touch too high to be sensible. Were it not for the expression on her face she would have been pretty, attractive even, but now her eyes were wide with shock, her mouth open as she tried to gasp for breath. She was deathly pale, her face slack. David realised she was about to faint. He stepped forward just in time to catch her beneath her shoulders.

“Hey,” he said, struggling to hold her up. “Lady?”

She was still on her feet, her knees weak but supporting her. She clutched his arm. “Oh God, I’m going to be sick …”

“Hold on,” he told her. “Take it easy.”

He held her steady, looking around for a dark corner or somewhere private he could take her. There was only a stack of large forty-four-gallon drums standing beside the broad hangar door of the mill, and he supported her into the relative shelter of the drums, away from the staring faces. Just in time. The woman lurched forward in his arms and vomited weakly onto the floor. All over his shoes.

He held her as she heaved and coughed. She tried to apologise between each gasping breath.

“It’s all right,” he told her, one hand around her waist and the other holding back her long hair for her. He had done this countless times for his daughter when she had been ill and on numerous occasions for his other patients. In the past. It seemed natural to help her, the instinctive tendency to assist someone in need overriding the warning in his head that told him he shouldn’t, that he was getting involved, that he wasn’t allowed.

“What are you doing?” came a voice from behind him.

David looked over his shoulder to find a blond, bearded man in a white shirt and tie staring at him in confusion.

“Kathy?” the man began, then realised the woman was being sick. “Oh,” he said, grimacing. She had stopped vomiting and was now spitting, trying to rid her mouth of saliva.

The blond man came closer, skirting any splashes of vomit that the woman had made. “They say he fell,” he said in a conspiratorial tone, now watching the scene at the shredders over his shoulder and not even aware that David was struggling to hold up the woman. “He slipped in the hoist and the door wasn’t fastened properly. They say it was an accident,” he whispered as he turned to David. “But I don’t bloody see how that’s possible.”

The man looked at the woman in David’s arms again. “Kathy?” he asked. “Are you okay?”

Kathy didn’t answer. The man glared at David. “What’s wrong with her?”

David stared at him in disbelief. This man and the woman called Kathy must work for the auditors Mrs Freese had mentioned, but although the man saw that his colleague was in distress, he didn’t seem particularly concerned or protective. In fact, David didn’t think that the man even realised Kathy was probably in shock.

He noticed that the truck driver and a few of the mill workers were looking at the man with curious expressions as they listened to his objections about the accident. The atmosphere was tense, the crowd silent and watchful around them.

“She nearly fainted,” David told the blond auditor. “We need to get her back inside and sitting down. Preferably with her head between her knees. And preferably with fewer people around.”

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” the man asked.

David glanced beyond him, to the paramedics who were staring at the shredder, probably trying to figure out how to retrieve the body. He nearly said “I used to be a doctor”, but that would only lead to questions he’d rather not answer. He didn’t want anyone to know about his past or who he really was.

“Look,” he told the man. “I’d prefer not to stand here and chat. Let’s just get Kathy back to the office. I can take better care of her there. Okay?”

The auditor agreed reluctantly. “But there’s something weird going on here,” he muttered as he helped David half carry, half walk the still weak Kathy out of the mill building. “Something bloody strange.”

He was staring over his shoulder at the hoist, at the blood still pooling on the cold concrete floor. David didn’t like the looks on some of the faces watching them as they left, nor did he particularly want to stay and see what the paramedics pulled out of the crush.

He led Kathy and the auditor across the yard and back to the office, the woman’s increasing weight on his arm adding to his haste to get her to a chair. They pushed through the door into the warmer building, David leading Kathy up the passage and back into their office where the bearded blond auditor went straight to the trestle table and began rummaging through papers. David frowned at him, slightly irritated by his callous attitude.

Kathy didn’t seem to notice, the horror of the event still haunting her.

“My God,” she said in a shocked voice as David sat her on a chair. “How could that happen?”

David told her to bend forward and to put her head between her knees. She was shivering and hugging herself, so he took off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. Behind him, the blond auditor continued to scratch through the papers.

David waited beside the woman until her colour started to come back. When he was confident she wouldn’t faint and fall off the chair, he took a chance and went across to a water cooler in the corner to fetch a paper cup of water.

“That poor man,” she said as David placed the cup in her hand. “What are they going to tell his family?”

David didn’t even know if he had a family.

“Take a sip,” he told her instead.

Kathy stared at the cup in her hand as if surprised to find it there. She looked up at him.

“Believe me,” he said, “you’ll feel better once you’ve had some water.”

She slowly took a sip. The blond auditor peered up from his papers, stopping his rummaging for a moment to stare at David and Kathy with a frown. Then he went back to his papers.

“Thanks,” came the hesitant gratitude from Kathy. “Are you a paramedic or something?”

David smiled slightly. “Used to be,” he said as she took another sip. “Something like that.”

She looked at him, a curious expression on her face. “Well, you’re right,” she said after she had finished the water. “I do feel better.”

She was about to say something more when the other auditor barked out an exclamation: “I knew I’d seen it somewhere!” He had a piece of paper in his hand and brandished it at them as he came over. “This is what he was telling me about, but I didn’t believe him!”

“Peter,” Kathy asked warily, “what are you talking about?”

“That guy,” Peter hissed at her, “that guy that died. He told me there was evidence!”

David and Kathy stared at Peter, who continued in a forced whisper: “I was speaking to him just the other day. He told me he’d been working here for over ten years, so there’s no way someone with that much experience falls out of a hoist. And, secondly, that’s not the first accident that’s happened.”

David and Kathy both looked at him in surprise. “You spoke to him?” Kathy asked. “Why?”

Peter shrugged. “He came to me. He wanted to talk.”

“Talk about what?” David asked cautiously. He didn’t want to get involved, didn’t even know who these people were, but the question couldn’t be helped.

Peter lowered his voice even further. “One of the mill managers. He was wiped out in a car crash three weeks ago.”

Kathy moaned in horror. “God, how awful.”

Peter nodded. “There was talk then that it wasn’t an accident either.”

Kathy tilted her head. “Talk?”

“Yes. Which is why he told me about—” He stopped suddenly, because a slightly portly, clearly flustered man had arrived in the doorway.

“Terrible,” the man was saying as he walked in. “Simply terrible.” He was wiping at his florid face with a hankie. He stopped as he saw David. “Who are you?” He seemed surprised. “What are you doing here?”

Everyone’s attention focused on David. He stood beside Kathy, his hand on the back of her chair. “My name is David Roth,” he explained. “I own a transport company, Roth Logistics. I was delivering machinery when I heard the sirens.”

Kathy nodded as if in agreement. “I’m sorry, Mr Maritz,” she said hurriedly. “But he was helping me. I wasn’t feeling too well.”

Mr Maritz wiped at his face again, nodding sadly. “Yes, quite. I understand. Terrible thing, but still?” He peered back at David, wanting an answer.

“I was looking for Ms Prinsloo,” David explained. “To arrange for tomorrow’s delivery?”

“Ah,” Mr Maritz half smiled as he gazed from Kathy to Peter and then back to David. It was a strange smile, one tinged with indecision. “I’m sure. Anyway … ah … It’s all pointless now.”

David began to ask him what he meant but Peter was already demanding an answer. “What do you mean? What’s pointless?”

“Well, we’ll have to shut down the mill,” Maritz explained. “They’ve got to get that man’s body out …” He glanced apologetically at Kathy as she put a hand to her throat in distress. “The police want to investigate; that’ll take time and then of course the shredders will have to be cleaned.”

Kathy put a hand over her mouth. She stood up and started for the door, clutching David’s jacket closely over her shoulders.

“Do you need help?” David called after her, but she simply shook her head and hurried from the room.

“Oh dear,” Mr Maritz said. “Poor girl.”

“When you say you’re closing down the mill, do you mean the audit as well?” Peter asked.

Maritz nodded. “Perhaps we can reschedule?”

“You can’t reschedule an audit,” Peter objected. “That’s the whole point!”

“Well, these circumstances are unique—”

“We don’t care about the circumstances!” Peter retorted.

“Yes, but the police do, and they insist that we shut down. And if we shut down, so do you. Ms Prinsloo will be along in a few minutes to observe you pack away. I trust you’ll return all the relevant documents you’ve been working on and won’t remove anything from the premises.”

That was the end of that, because Mr Maritz promptly turned and left.

Peter stared angrily at the empty doorway and swore. He raised the piece of paper in his hand and looked at it for a moment. He seemed to come to a decision, carefully folding the piece of paper and turning to David. He took a quick step forward. “Take it,” he said, holding out the document.

David stared at him.

“Take it! Hide it somewhere.”

David took a step back. “No. It’s unethical.”

“I don’t care if it’s unethical!” Peter said, just as a woman walked into the room. She was an outdoorsy type, dressed in a loose-fitting brown jersey and low boots. Her hair was sensibly short and she wore no make-up or jewellery. She frowned at Peter and David suspiciously. “Mr Roth?” she asked and David nodded. “I’m Ms Prinsloo. I’m afraid we’ll have to delay that second consignment indefinitely.” She was still watching them sceptically, as if she had heard the last sentence of their conversation. “If you come with me, I’ll sort out today’s delivery; then you can go.”

It was as good a dismissal as David had ever heard. He glanced at Peter. The man just stood there, both hands now deep in his trouser pockets. He was looking at David with mistrust, his head tilted at a curious angle.

“Excuse me,” Peter said. “Kathy’s not feeling well. I have to go and check on her.” He kept looking at David as he left the room, his hands still in his pockets.

It was the last time David saw him alive.