Читать книгу Endgame - Wilna Adriaanse - Страница 8

Nick made an early-morning stop at the club in Green Point. He was relieved to see Paul’s car in the parking garage but was surprised to see Gabriella’s as well. On a Monday morning?

Paul was in his office at the back of the building. After all this time, Nick still caught himself looking around in the evenings, thinking that it was impossible for the place ever to be quiet again. Yet silence reigned every morning, as if the previous night had never happened. Maybe it was part of the attraction of a place like this. The idea that everything is fleeting and nothing lasts.

Nick beckoned for Paul to come along and led the way to one of the bars.

“What’s up?” Paul asked.

“When was the last time you saw Allegretti?”

“Saturday night when the two of you left here.”

“And you haven’t heard from him since?”

“No. What’s going on?”

Nick described the scene he had come across the night before, and mentioned that Allegretti’s cellphone automatically went to voicemail.

Paul ran his hand across his short hair. “You said we were nearly done here. I have a life to return to. Now it seems you’re getting into deeper shit.”

“Do you think this is what I want? If I had my way, neither of us would still be here.” Nick became aware of the sharp tone in his voice.

“Fuck, I don’t want to deal with these guys any more. Or help keep the doors of a corrupt business open.”

“You can’t be any more fed up than I am.”

Paul raised his hands in a motion of surrender.

“What’s Gabriella doing here?”

“I don’t know. You’ll have to ask her.”

“Does she have access to the safe and the accounts?”

“Yes, she does.”

“Won’t you please check if any unusual withdrawals have been made from the business accounts lately, or from Enzio’s personal accounts? And while you’re at it, check the last time he used his bank cards.”

“There haven’t been any withdrawals from the business accounts, I check every day. But I’ll check his personal accounts.”

Nick’s gaze travelled to Enzio’s office on the top floor. “Maybe you’d better take a look at Gabriella’s personal accounts as well.”

“Okay.”

“Can you do it without her knowing?”

Paul gave him a withering look, turned around and went back to his office.

Nick walked up the stairs. He knocked twice, then pushed open the door.

Gabriella was talking on her cellphone. She smiled when she saw him. A slow, lazy smile. Vincenzo Allegretti’s only daughter and the apple of his eye was a beautiful woman. Too beautiful, perhaps. The world didn’t refuse her much. Nick couldn’t decide who was the more difficult of the Allegretti siblings. He suspected life had given Enzio a few hard knocks while his sister seemed untouched so far.

“I’ll call you back.” She put the phone on the desk. “Nick, my love. I keep deciding to play hard to get, but the moment I see you I lose the battle. I just want to throw myself at your feet.”

Nick smiled, though he certainly didn’t feel like it. “Gabi, the man at whose feet you throw yourself hasn’t been born yet.”

She sat back in Enzio’s big chair and he sat down opposite her.

“What are you doing at the office at this hour on a Monday morning? I didn’t know you could get up so early.” He tried to keep the tone light. He had hoped Enzio would be here.

“Somebody has to run this place. And as my brother seems to have lost the plot, it’ll have to be me.”

“What do you mean ‘lost the plot’?”

“Didn’t you see him on Saturday night? We all like to relax and play, but he doesn’t know where to draw the line any more. So last night I realised, if he lets this place go down the drain, I’m going to lose as well.”

“Paul is here, and from what I can see, he’s doing a good job.”

“I won’t argue, but one of the lessons my dad taught us from a very young age is that no one is ever as loyal to your business as you are yourself. I didn’t listen to all my dad’s lessons, but I remember that one. And you know as well as I do that sending us to Cape Town to open a business here was a test. He’s not going to trust us with anything bigger if we fuck this up.”

She was unusually serious and Nick wondered if she knew more than she was letting on. It wasn’t normal for Gabriella to worry about the business or to act responsibly. He didn’t know if girls who were born with such stunning beauty ever really learnt that life came with certain obligations. Fortune has a way of favouring the beautiful. Protecting them against cruelty and suffering. That’s why the world is always so touched when one of its beautiful creatures comes up against the dark side.

“Speaking of your brother, do you happen to know where he is? I need to speak to him urgently but he’s not answering his phone.”

“How would I know where he is? He’s a big boy.”

“When was the last time you saw him?” he asked.

“Saturday night, here, at the club.” When he said nothing in reply, she asked: “What are your plans for the rest of the day?”

“I have a lot of things to do.”

“Always so busy. You know what they say about all work and no play?”

“What are you really doing here so early?”

“I told you someone has to see to things. I told Enzio a few months ago that if he doesn’t sort out his shit I’m going to tell my dad. If the club doesn’t bring in money, my dad is going to shut it down, and I refuse to go back to Joburg.”

“So far he’s made a success of it, despite everyone’s misgivings. I think he’s just going through a bad patch. He’ll get back on track.”

“I’m not willing to risk it. Saturday night was his last chance.”

“Where’s Ken?”

“At this very moment? Why do you want to know?”

“I mean, is he in Cape Town, or has he left the country?”

She tilted her head. “Come to think of it, I haven’t a clue. I think he was here on Saturday night, but I haven’t seen him since.”

“He’s your husband. Don’t you wonder where he is if he vanishes like that?”

“Should I?”

Nick shook his head. “To each his own. Maybe you’ve got a winning recipe. If you hear from your brother, tell him to call me urgently.”

“And what do I get in exchange for the favour?”

“I make sure you’re safe.”

“Safety is so boring. There are far more interesting things you could do for me.”

Nick smiled again. “Gabi, you’re becoming a cliché.”

She gave a hoarse laugh. “Nick Malherbe, you can insult me all you like, but we both know I always get what I want in the end.”

Back outside, he dialled a number and asked to speak to Captain Clive Barnard.

He held on for a while.

“Barnard.”

“Nick Malherbe. I’m —”

“I know who you are.”

“I’ve got to see you.”

“It’s Monday morning. I don’t have time.”

“Not even for coffee?”

“Not really.”

“I need your help.”

“There are channels for that.”

“I’m not sure who I can trust.”

“Should I feel honoured that you called me?”

“Call me crazy. I know I’m taking a chance, but I don’t have too many options at the moment.” When he stopped talking he expected Barnard to end the call.

“Where do you want to meet?” he said after a moment’s silence.

“Tell me what works for you. Preferably a place where we won’t run into too many familiar faces.”

They agreed on a coffee shop at the Canal Walk shopping centre.

When Nick arrived there an hour later, he realised again how he hated shopping malls. There was just too much of everything: people, shops, stuff. One day the world would be destroyed by all the shit being manufactured every day. How much does one person need? Even on a Monday morning there was too much of everything.

Barnard was already seated when Nick got to the coffee shop. They didn’t shake hands. Nick sat down opposite him.

He had found out only later that Captain Clive Barnard had been McKenna’s handler during the time she had looked after Clara Veldman. Nick felt his annoyance resurface. They had made his life very difficult.

A waiter approached and they both ordered coffee.

“I still can’t decide if I should feel honoured that you called me or if I should punch you in the face,” Barnard began. “Do you really think everyone who’s left is corrupt?”

“That’s not what I said. Listen to what I’m about to say and then tell me what you would have done.”

“Shoot. But remember, I’m not a priest. If you want absolution, you’re at the wrong place. I don’t do confessions.”

Nick told him about the previous night’s events at Allegretti’s home and that the Italian had presumably gone missing.

Before Clive could react, the waiter brought their coffee and they stirred in their sugar before they both looked up again.

“Have you reported it?”

“No, we can’t afford a fuck-up. But I can’t do it alone either. Firstly, I don’t know enough people around here and time is an issue. You should know, the longer it takes to get going, the colder the trail becomes.”

“Do you think Allegretti did it?”

“I considered it, but I don’t think so. Allegretti is capable of a lot, but he doesn’t like getting his hands dirty.”

“But it’s a possibility?”

“Anything is possible.”

“What do you need?”

“A team to work with. As soon and as discreetly as possible. Preferably before Organised Crime hears about it.”

“Where’s the wounded guy?”

“Christiaan Barnard.”

“They’re supposed to inform the cops when a gunshot or stab-wound victim is admitted. Did you ask the doctor and the staff not to report it?”

“No, I told them I was from the police and hoped they’d assume it had been reported.”

“And now you want me to tell you who can be trusted and who not?”

“In a nutshell, yes. Preferably as soon as possible.”

“What do I get for helping you?”

Nick folded his arms and sat back in his chair. “Are we talking about a bribe?”

Clive lowered his cup, wiped his mouth and began to push his chair back. “I’d better leave before I beat the shit out of you.”

Nick raised his hands. “What do you want?”

“I want to be part of the investigation. And I want unrestricted access to the information you’ve gathered so far on Allegretti and the others.”

“I can’t have it end like the last time. This is our last chance. We worked for years for all that information. In the wrong hands it could cause us untold damage.”

“It’s my condition.”

“Okay, but I’m running the operation. That’s not negotiable.”

Clive nodded. “As long as you know what you’re doing, I won’t interfere. I don’t have time, anyway, but I still want to be kept informed.” He got up. “Give me about four hours and I’ll get back to you.”

Nick motioned for Clive to sit back down.

“That’s one half of the story. The other half is that Clara Veldman has been missing since Friday night. She was at Paranga in Camps Bay with friends.”

Clive sank deeper into his seat, shaking his head. “Jesus, it’s a fucking circus.”

Nick nodded.

“What do her friends say?”

“I only found out last night, and it’s not as if I have access to any of her people to find out what happened.”

“It’s too much of a coincidence, she and Allegretti disappearing two days apart.”

“I don’t believe in coincidence.”

“Neither do I. And if I know Williams, this hasn’t been reported to the police either. He can’t afford it.” Clive got up.

Nick followed suit and they walked out together. “I don’t care if he’s your friend. I don’t want Greyling near either of these cases,” Nick said.

Clive stopped, looked at Nick. “You came to me for help. I’ll do what I can, but I’m not going to be dictated to. You’ll have to trust me to find the right people.”

He turned away before Nick could say anything else.

In the bakkie Nick cautiously moved his head from side to side. The headache had spread to his neck. It felt as if the tendons could snap at any moment. He pulled away but stopped at the first café, and bought a bottle of water and a sachet of four painkillers. He swallowed all four. Then he took out his phone and dialled a number.

“Riana Kellerman, good morning.”

“Riana, it’s Nick.”

Strange how much silence can say, he thought when she didn’t respond at once. He pictured her in his mind. The guys had been jealous when Nols had got her. Quite a few of them had had the hots for her. Fortunately he had been smart enough to know that his best friend’s wife was forbidden fruit. Even in his thoughts.

“I wondered if you’d remember.”

“How are you? Have you heard from Nols?”

“No, the paperwork will probably take a while. Mind you, I don’t know if there’s paperwork the day you’re released.”

“Do the kids know?”

Silence again. “I don’t think I’m going to tell them. They were three and one when he left. They don’t know him any more.”

“I thought you took them to see him?”

“In the beginning, yes, but the older they got, the harder it became. Jesus, Nick, it’s awful to take kids to see their dad in jail. They started asking questions. And with the move to Cape Town it got difficult. I couldn’t afford air tickets every three months.”

“I understand, but you could have asked me, even if it wasn’t every time.”

“I did what I thought was best for the children.”

“It’s not as if he killed anyone.”

“It doesn’t matter. Prison is prison. No place for children. I didn’t want them to go to school with that kind of baggage.”

“Riana, they’re his kids. He has a right to see them.”

He heard her grunt. “I don’t know if you’re the one who should be lecturing me. If it weren’t for you …”

He sighed. They’d been down this road a few times before. “If you want me to apologise, or ask forgiveness, I’ll do it, but it won’t change anything.”

“Can I ask you something … if you had to make that decision again today, would you do the same thing?”

Nick wished he hadn’t phoned. “I can give you the easy answer and say, yes, I’d do it again, but it’s not that simple. I don’t know what I’d do today. If I’d known he wasn’t going to see his children, I might have decided differently. I don’t know.”

“Do you know I divorced him?”

“When?”

“Last year.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“At first, because I knew you’d try to convince me not to. And then it no longer mattered. We make our own choices.”

Nick closed his eyes and massaged his neck muscles.

“If he contacts you, please tell him I’d like to see him. I haven’t been able to visit in a long time.”

“I’ll tell him. He’ll have to come here at some point. All his personal stuff is still here and we’ll probably have to divide up the furniture. I can’t expect him to walk out with nothing.”

Nick wanted to say, “Fuck the furniture, give the man his kids back,” but his words seemed to have dried up.

“Well, all the best, then.”

“Thanks, to you too. By the way, where are you?”

“In Cape Town.”

“Are you still in the service?”

“Yes.”

“Maybe you should get out. The job doesn’t come with a built-in trip switch. At one time or another there’ll be a short and everything will be blown to hell. Get out while you still know more or less who you are.”

“I may take your advice.”

“Are you seeing anyone at the moment?”

“No, I don’t have time right now.”

“Nick … have you kept your hands clean all these years, or are you just smarter?”

Nick wished he had bought more painkillers. The four he had taken seemed to have made his headache worse.

“Riana, let’s talk about that another day. I don’t have time today. Besides, we’ll probably have to define what you mean by ‘clean’.”

“Why do you think he didn’t try to involve you at the time?”

“I don’t know. You’ll have to ask him. Sorry, I have to run.”

They said goodbye and Nick started the engine and pulled away. Then he stopped. He drained the bottle of water before he drove on.

He and Nols Kellerman had met during their first week of training. It was one of those easy friendships. They got each other’s humour. They were each other’s best men. Party buddies. Always got the other one home safely when they had partied hard.

Nols had gone to court with him the day of his first divorce. Seen to it that he ate afterwards, and spent the rest of the day with him on the balcony of Nick’s new bachelor flat while they tried to make sense of life over their brandy glasses.

The first time Nick suspected something was wrong was during the investigation of a car theft syndicate. At most, it was a feeling of unease. Few things make you as blind as the desire not to see. The second time, he lay awake all night, deliberating. The next morning, he asked Nols if everything was okay. People think friendship opens all doors, but that’s not true. Some questions are much easier to ask a stranger than your best friend. Like: “Did you accept money to make a docket disappear?” It didn’t matter how many drinks he’d had, he just couldn’t ask Nols that question.

The third time it happened he lost so much sleep that he no longer trusted his own judgement. For nights on end he tried to find holes in his theory. Then he took the easy way out and went to the chief. Let someone else figure it out. The next morning Nols was temporarily suspended, and an investigation was launched. Unfortunately Nols hadn’t covered his tracks. Within two weeks it was over and Nols had been found guilty.

The first time Nick had gone to visit him in prison he’d been furious.

“We’re talking about fucking cars, you know. The insurance companies pay out anyway. Do you think those are the only cars those rich buggers own? It’s not as if anyone was ever killed. What do you take me for?”

Nick had let him talk.

“You’re not a friend’s arse. Why didn’t you come to me first? Why didn’t you warn me? Isn’t that what mates do?”

Nick had felt it grow quiet inside his head. The words he had come with had dried up. Nothing he could say would make it better.

“You don’t know what it costs to raise two kids.”

Nick had shaken his head. Listened to the outburst a while longer and tried his best not to look visibly relieved when visiting hours were over.

He’d gone to see Nols a few more times. A light seemed to have dimmed inside his friend. The second time Nick had gone, Nols had still been angry, but the intensity had no longer been there. The third time he’d been quiet, answering or reacting only sporadically. The last two times he hadn’t spoken at all. Neither had he looked at Nick.

Riana had asked why Nick hadn’t crossed the line himself. What the rest of the population doesn’t realise is that the lines are different. They want to see results and they want to believe that the police are honest, but what they don’t know is that the two things don’t always go together. Or they prefer not to know.

People often asked him why he had decided to become a cop. He realised that everyone had their own reasons. Some were plausible, others almost laughably naive. He had never laughed at anyone’s reason, because his own probably demonstrated the worst degree of naivety. He imagined that a boy who grows up without a father tries for the rest of his life to become his own hero. The problem is that he doesn’t really know what heroism should look or feel like, so one day he realises he’s like a dog chasing its own tail. But he keeps on. Perhaps in the hope that, one day, he’ll see something in someone else’s eyes that he himself can’t see.

Nols had grown up with a father.