Gun Dealing (The Ryder Quartet Book 2) (17 page)

Thabethe turned, walked over to the
car, and drove away.

15.00.

There were about forty people in the
firm’s presentation arena. Efficient waiters ducked in and out offering bubbly
and canapés. There was an excited buzz, and all the speeches were mercifully
short.

They passed forward the giant
cheque
for the attention of the photographer, and Fiona
Ryder was gently pulled forward to take central position. The crowd roundly
applauded as this happened, but she immediately stepped forward to grab Mongezi
by the hand and despite his protests dragged him to the
centre
of the room. As the photographer prepared for the shot, she then strode forward
to grab Busisiwe, too, and pull her into the frame. The three of them laughed
and were heartily cheered by the little crowd that had gathered.

None in the crowd knew the extent of
the new bond that had formed between Mongezi, Busisiwe and Fiona Ryder since
the near-tragic events of the previous night. Many of them had been told or had
heard from others that there had been an incident at the Ryder home last night,
and that a few people from the firm had been present, and that the scene had
been traumatic for some. Many in the crowd had their own experiences of
burglary or robbery or mugging or hijacking, but from what they had heard this
particular one seemed to have stopped fractionally short of the ultimate
tragedy. Word had even got around that Fiona herself had played a role in
putting down one of the would-be burglars.

Which served to enhance Fiona Ryder’s
reputation as a no-nonsense tough cookie, but an utterly charming one.

The
rumours
grew. Don’t mess with Fiona Ryder.
 

16.05.

‘Thanks, Piet. I appreciate you doing
all of this. The crap pile grows bigger every day. I don’t have time to think
and I’m getting writer’s cramp just filling out forms.’

‘
Ja
,
hey, Captain. What forms will they invent next?’

‘Keeps someone busy in Pretoria, I
suppose. What bugs me is that every case has so many damned appendices and
footnotes and cross-references and extra bits added to the file. Despite the
supposed move to paperless reporting.’

‘Yissus
, Captain. You right there, hey? I
agree. My old man would have given up long ago. Detectives in his day just got
on with the job and scribbled a few notes on a file when they had a chance.
Now, Some student could hand in any one of these cases and get a Masters degree
for it there by the university.’

‘Speaking of students. How’s Mavis
doing?’

‘
Ag
,
you know. Alright, I suppose. But she’s still like, you know, a bit upset? I
was wondering whether we could put her onto something that will take her mind
off things.’

‘Of course. Have anything in mind?’

‘Well, you know, I was thinking. That
Nadine Salm is so
blerrie
good at
what she does. I know KoeksnDips are going down to see her working the scene in
Folweni tomorrow...’

‘And Mavis is interested in
forensics. I see where you’re going, Piet.’

‘
Ja
,
so I was wondering...’

‘Why don’t you pick up the phone and
ask Nadine if Mavis can go down with them?’

‘You think that’s OK?’

‘Sure. Why not? Get KoeksnDips to
take her along with them. Just call Nadine and ask. Tell her I asked you to ask
her, if you like.’

‘Really, Captain?’

‘Of course.’

‘
Ja
,
well, OK. No. Fine. I’ll do just that then. Thanks, Captain.’

‘Not at all. Good idea. It’ll do her
a lot of good. OK. Well, I have one call to make and then I’m off to Cluster
Command for that five o’clock meeting. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

‘OK. Thanks. I’ll sort out the papers
here, and…
Ja
, well. OK, then.
Thanks, Captain.’

Cronje gathered the files and left
Nyawula, who reached for his phone.

21.45.

Ryder and Fiona were at home with
some Sauvignon Blanc on the couch, watching a really bad TV drama, when his
iPhone rang.

‘Ryder. Nadine? Hi Nadine. Where are
you? Not still in the lab at this time of night?’

Having been scolded by Fiona earlier
in the evening over his comments about Nadine’s idiosyncratic pronunciation,
Ryder resolved to make himself impervious to her vowel sounds, and because he
knew she would have news for him that he desperately needed, he didn’t as a
consequence even register any of Nadine’s diphthongs this time.

‘Would you rather have me watching a
replay of CSI on TV, Jeremy? Learning from those guys in New York and Miami and
Las Vegas how to do ballistics and DNA testing?’

‘Well, Nadine, those CSI guys are so
good. They solve a hundred cases a week and they can turn around DNA sampling
in about four seconds. Much faster than you. You’ve got a
helluva
lot to learn from them, you know?’

Fiona punched him on the thigh, muted
the television, and snuggled closer so that she could eavesdrop on the
conversation, as Nadine continued.

‘Thanks, Jeremy. I’ll put my TV
recorder on and try and catch up on all the old CSI shows in a binge between
Christmas and New Year. My assistant is nodding at me. Wants to join me and do
the same. Who knows, by New Year we may be able to get a whole lot better at
what we do. Sounds like you have enough time at your disposal to watch quite a
few of them yourself? Anyway, we like the lab. Nice and quiet at this time of
night. It allows us to find out things that would be so interesting for you
detective types to hear about. Want to hear what we’ve found out for you?’

‘Shoot, please, Nadine.’

‘I’m not the shooting type. That’s
you.’

‘OK, then talk to me. I’m all ears.’

‘We’ve got the DNA from all three of
your dinner guests. Not the posh guests. I’m sure their DNA would be, like,
really interesting, you know? But no, this time I mean the DNA of the three
gate-crashers.’

‘Great stuff. And?’

‘I’ve put together the DNA stuff that
my colleagues have shared with me, matched the finger marks and the
fingerprints that we lifted, and put it all against the evidence that they’ve
tested from the KwaDukuza crime scene. Two of the perps in your home were the
two rapists in Sunday’s hit on the four constables.

‘
Knew
it.
Bastards
!’ said Ryder as he
clenched his fist like a tennis champion breaking serve in the final set.

‘Want to guess which of the three
options worked out, Jeremy? SIG one and SIG two, or SIG one and Desert Eagle,
or SIG two and Desert Eagle?’

‘Hit me with it, Nadine.’

‘SIG one and SIG two from your dinner
party were the two rapists at KwaDukuza.’

‘Which means we have nothing yet that
puts Desert Eagle at the KwaDukuza crime scene.

‘Right. Nothing yet.’

‘But we know he was there.’

‘
You
guys know that. We don’t believe in everything the cops believe. We only
believe in evidence.’

‘You’re so pure, Nadine, you know
that? How do you survive?’

‘I rely on big, strong, violent men
to make my life interesting. Hold on. My assistant wants to add something to
that. Oh. Yeah. For sure. She says that she, too, wants the same thing. Big,
strong, violent men. Both cops and robbers, she says.’

‘Thanks, Nadine. I appreciate this.
Very much. Can I drive over there right now and bring you each a frothy coffee
or something, to keep you awake?’

‘No, thanks, Detective. Some of us
have to get some sleep, you know, while others can watch TV all night. I’ve
arranged to go out at crack of dawn tomorrow back to that Folweni sergeant’s
house. Something bothers me about what’s supposed to have gone down in that
incident, so I want to go back and do a full reconstruction. I dug out the
bullet on my first visit and my colleagues still have to do tests on it. But in
the meantime the Folweni cops are meeting me there early, and your two guys,
too, I hear, are coming back for a second visit. The ones with the funny
names.’

‘KoeksnDips?’

‘That’s it.’

‘Koekemoer and Dippenaar. Good guys.’

‘So I thought when I met them the
first time.’

‘They also spoke highly of you,
Nadine.’

‘Really? Well, like I’ve always said,
you can’t trust the
judgement
of cops, only forensics
people. Except, maybe, your new young intern cop. KoeksnDips are bringing her
along with them tomorrow because she’s interested in forensics.’

‘What, Mavis Tshabalala?’

‘The same. Apparently your Sergeant
Cronje spoke to Nyawula who then said they should ask me if I mind having an
extra observer tomorrow along with KoeksnDips and I said no problem. I hear
she’s a part-time BSc student and interested in a future career in forensics.
So I said OK. She’s coming down with them tomorrow morning.’

‘That’s great, Nadine. Thanks for
doing that. Mavis has been in a bad way all week. She was very close to
Sinethemba Ngobeni, who we lost at KwaDukuza on Sunday. Maybe this will be a
way of getting Mavis up and going again.’

‘That’s what Cronje told me. He also
told me she was quite a sharp cookie. So, you see, maybe there are a few cops
whose
judgement
one can trust, after all.’

‘You and I need to spend more time
together, Nadine. Let’s find a few more crime scenes so that you can change
your opinion about cops.’

‘Sounds promising. Anyway, Jeremy, so
we’re going home now. Maybe some other time for your frothy coffee.’

‘No question, Nadine. But I warn you,
I’m going to tell my wife I love another woman!’

‘Better not, Detective. I hear she’s
a dab hand with a frying pan. Bye.’

And she hung up.

Both of Fiona’s eyebrows were still
raised quizzically at his last comment. Ryder bent over her and kissed each of
them in turn.

‘What was that all about?’

‘Nadine’s put together some great DNA
and ballistics and fingerprint stuff for me. But she said she won’t respond to
my overtures to her because she’s heard you’re quite dangerous with a frying
pan.’

‘She’s right.’

‘So I won’t pursue her any further.’

‘Good. Bed?’

‘Definitely.’

They embraced briefly then went
around the house doing the lights and alarms together.

22.35.

Thabethe watched as the last light,
except for what was probably a reading light in one of the bedrooms, went out
in the Ryder home.

He had tried in vain to ascertain
whether the detective was up and about. But they were too careful with curtains
and blinds. Lights were switched on only after blinds were closed and curtains
drawn. They knew their stuff, these people.

 His real concern was to find whether
there were any dogs around. He moved slowly from his vantage point in the road.
He paused in the dark shadow of the willow tree on the edge of the property as
a car travelled down the road. Teenagers coming back from somewhere, to judge
by the music that thumped and throbbed as they passed by. Then he continued
slowly up the driveway, keeping close to the hedge bordering the
neighbour’s
place. A strong gust of wind sent leaves
scurrying past him.

He got to the top of the driveway
where it
levelled
out onto the front lawn and
listened. Nothing. No sign of any dogs. Good. Dogs are bad news. Try and creep
up on the house with a dog around? No way.

He moved down the side of the house
toward the back area. As he hit the corner opening on to the back garden, a
bright white light came on. He ducked back into the hedge. Was the light sensor
attached to an alarm system? Was there a signal in the master bedroom that was
triggered when the lights came on? After a few frozen seconds Thabethe
concluded that that was probably unlikely, because from where he was, tucked
back into the hedge, he could see on the corner where the driveway intersected
with the open area at the back that there was a big clump of pampas grass,
three
metres
in diameter, with flowering stalks that
must have been almost four
metres
tall. The
silver-white feathery stalks swayed vigorously in the wind. It wasn’t his
movement that had set off the light. It was the pampas stalks. On a windy night
these things must set off the lights every couple of minutes, he thought.

He froze, just in case someone in the
house chose to investigate. Nothing. He waited till the corner light went off
again, and moved forward once more. As he hit the corner the lights came on
again, this time doubtless because of his own movements. But all he needed now
was a quick look to see the lie of the land. He did so. No dog-box. No sign of
any animals. He retreated to his hedge in the driveway.