Endgame. Wilna Adriaanse
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now you’re playing the victim card. It’s unfair. If you think about it, you’ll agree with me.”
Ellie looked at the handsome man in front of her. Her dad always said his boundaries were too vague, and that this made him dangerous. And that he couldn’t take criticism, which was even more dangerous. Someone who thinks he’s always right never learns from his mistakes.
“I have to go.”
“Mac …”
She didn’t look back. His words felt like grit in her shoes. Could he have a point? Was she playing the victim card, while she had known all along what she was letting herself in for? She had never liked a victim mentality.
CHAPTER 6
Ken Visser had an office at the Victoria & Alfred Waterfront. The letters V and E merged in an intricate design to form the logo on the door. Visser Enterprises. Nick had always found it an unimaginative name. Ken was born in Zimbabwe, where his father still lived. There were rumours that he had close ties with the Zimbabwean government and Nick knew there had been a number of transactions with top South African government officials. The Vissers’ original business had been the import and export of game, but it had long since stopped being that simple.
The receptionist said Ken was in a meeting and didn’t want to be disturbed. Nick nodded, but walked past her all the same and knocked on the door displaying Ken’s name.
The young woman jumped up and hurried towards him as if she wanted to stop him from going in. When there was no reply from inside, Nick opened the door and walked in. Ken Visser was sitting behind his desk. Two men sat facing him. Something told Nick he had seen one of them before.
Ken looked up, then leaned back in his chair. “This is a surprise! Unfortunately I don’t have time to chat. Make an appointment and we’ll talk.”
When Nick showed no sign of leaving, Ken looked at the other two.
“Gentlemen, would you please excuse us for a moment? I apologise for the rude interruption.”
When they had left the room, Nick sat down opposite Ken.
“Luckily for you, I’m in a good mood. No one walks into my office uninvited.”
“I’m looking for Enzio. Do you know where he is?”
Ken shook his head. “No. Why are you looking for him here?”
“It’s important that I speak to him.”
“Aren’t you being paid to know where he is?”
“When was the last time you saw him?” Nick asked in turn.
“I don’t know. Wednesday or Thursday, or Saturday night at the club, maybe. It’s not important enough to remember.”
“And when was the last time you spoke to him?”
“Are you deaf, or just slow? How many times do I have to tell you I don’t remember?”
“Do you remember what you talked about the last time you saw him?”
Ken leaned back, folded his arms, and smiled. “This and that, I suppose.”
“I’ve been trying since last night to contact him. If you know where he is, now would be the time to tell me.”
“You’re the one who’s crawled up his arse, not me. Do you mean to tell me you lost him? I wonder what the old man will say.”
Nick had known Ken Visser for long enough to realise he was wasting his breath, that threats would get him nowhere. Ken Visser was no easy prey. He wasn’t afraid of threats. You had to outwit him.
“Where were you last night?” Nick asked, just to goad the man. His response might be interesting.
“At home. Not that it has anything to do with you.” He smiled again. “You can ask my beloved wife if you don’t believe me. We were in bed all night.”
Nick got up and walked to the door. “If that’s the case, I wonder why she’s always complaining.”
“Fuck you, Malherbe. What gives you the right to march in here and interrogate me?”
“Let me know if you hear from Enzio,” Nick said over his shoulder as he left.
“If this is a fucking trick by the two of you so he can get out of his obligations, you’re going to regret it. Tell your boss that. This isn’t the time to play games with me.”
The receptionist gave Nick a dirty look as he went past. The two men who had been with Visser got up and walked back into the office. It suddenly came to Nick where he had seen one of them before: in the club with Enzio. The high-ranking government official.
Age didn’t matter, Nick thought as he got into his bakkie; somewhere deep inside every man was a small boy who wanted to show that he was strong. Who wanted to win the pissing contest. Some men might outgrow the urge, but he suspected the majority had that basic need all their lives. Evidently he had not outgrown it either.
He had proof that Ken Visser hadn’t exactly been a faithful husband; still the man didn’t want to hear that Gabriella had complained about his performance. He suspected that some men had missed out on certain evolutionary processes.
Leaving the Waterfront, Nick decided to go to Allegretti’s home. As a rookie cop, he’d had a chief who was meticulous about a crime scene.
“There’s no fucking replay,” he had often said. “You get one chance. If you fuck it up, do the human race a favour and throw yourself under the nearest bus. Because if you don’t understand this, you’re not a policeman’s arse and not worth much to society as a whole.”
That same captain had taught them that you couldn’t possibly do everything yourself, and to trust your instincts.
“Trust your team, but if that little voice in your ear won’t shut up, even at night, get up and go look for whatever it is that keeps it talking. Never mind if you step on toes and piss people off. Keep on until you have found it. And if you tell me you didn’t hear that little voice, then you should make a career change, and quickly too. The world will always need ice-cream vendors.”
His cellphone rang and he saw it was Clive Barnard.
“Can you be in Milnerton at six?”
Nick looked at his watch. “Yes.”
“I’ll send you the address. And if I can give you some advice, leave your ego at home.”
Nick chose not to react. “Are you very busy?”
“What do you want?”
“I want you to go to Allegretti’s house with me. I’m afraid of missing something because I know the house.”
“Give me an hour.”
“Can you bring a team from Forensics?”
“You’re one of those people who want the whole bloody arm once they’ve got the little finger, aren’t you?”
When he had ended the call, Nick decided he had enough time go to Camps Bay first.
According to Monica’s information, Clara had last been seen with friends at Paranga, a popular restaurant and hotspot. He had been there once or twice with Allegretti. On his way over, he tried to think of an excuse for showing up.
The manager wasn’t there but the assistant manager recognised him. Nick asked how he was and whether he could bring a party of ten for dinner the following Saturday night. He hinted that it was for Allegretti, but deliberately kept it vague.
“Is it true what they say about the young girlfriend?” the assistant asked.
“What do they say?”
“They were doing a shoot in the neighbourhood on Friday and came in afterwards for drinks and dinner.