Endgame. Wilna Adriaanse
Читать онлайн книгу.
pain was dangerous pain.
He was relieved when he was called to sign the documents for Patrice’s admission. It was better than just standing around.
Then he noticed the date and exhaled audibly. He must remember to call her tomorrow. Could it have been five years already?
Ellie looked at her watch. She put the pay-as-you-go SIM card in the phone and dialled his number. She waited a long time before the familiar voice answered.
“Barnard.”
“It’s me. Were you asleep?”
“Mac?”
“Yes.”
“Where the hell are you?”
She imagined Clive’s face. It was a miracle he had said nothing worse than “hell”.
“I’m calling to find out how you are.” Ellie had decided not to tell him about the two men in the church just yet. She hoped he would tell her if anything had happened.
There was a moment’s silence, before he laughed brusquely. “Fuck you, McKenna! You disappear for almost five months without letting me know if you’re still alive. Then you phone on a Sunday evening to ask how I am. How do you think I am, with no news of you for five whole months?”
“I’m sorry …”
“The most overrated word in the world. It means fuck-all.”
“Clive … has anything happened that I should know about?”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. Anything that raised a red flag.”
“So you’re not actually calling to find out how I am.”
“Clive …”
He sighed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Greyling phoned yesterday morning and asked me where you are. I don’t know if he’s a red flag to you.”
“Why did he think you’d know where I am?”
“Maybe because everyone thought so. We were partners, after all.”
“How did you know where I am?”
He sighed again. “Someone’s mother’s cousin’s great-grandchild or something was baptised in the Montagu church a while ago. The following Monday the guy came to ask me if it was possible that you could be the organist at the church. I said I don’t know.”
“When was that?”
“About a month ago, I guess. I didn’t tell Greyling you were there, I just said someone thought he might have seen you there.”
“Why didn’t you try to contact me?”
He grunted. “I’m not the one who took off without a backward glance. And how many times was I supposed to call your cell, just to hear that the subscriber is not available?”
“And so you told Albert where I am.”
“Don’t get your knickers in a knot. How the fuck was I supposed to know why he was looking for you?”
“Did he say why he was looking for me?”
“No, just that it was a personal matter and that it was urgent.”
“The two of us don’t have personal matters any more.” Ellie heard her voice climb.
“Mac, maybe we shouldn’t talk any more right now. It’s Sunday evening and there’s a long week ahead. Call your ex and ask him why he’s looking for you. How the hell was I supposed to know what’s going on between the two of you? It’s not as if you kept me informed.”
Ellie took a deep breath and reined herself in.
“Thanks. Look after yourself,” she said, and ended the call.
“Clara Veldman.” Ellie said the name out loud. Last year, when Albert had asked her to work undercover as a security guard and look after Clara at Enzio Allegretti’s home, Clive had had serious misgivings. She knew he blamed himself for what had happened in the end. But the telephone was not the best way to clear the air between them.
CHAPTER 3
Nick ran his hand across his face as he drove back to Bantry Bay. It was almost four in the morning. Patrice was in an induced coma and the doctors would not or could not say if or when he’d come out of it.
The streets were deserted. Here and there a car was waiting at a traffic light or turning into a quiet street. Two prostitutes stood on a street corner in Sea Point. Some distance ahead a police van was parked at the kerb. Sometimes Nick feared he would be forever trapped in the nocturnal lives of other people.
At the Allegretti home he made a pot of strong coffee and summoned the security guards individually. Both were adamant that they’d seen or heard nothing out of the ordinary. There had been no strange vehicles in the street, no shots. Allegretti had definitely not left through the gate. There had been no visitors. If Nick didn’t believe them, he could check the camera footage.
When the interviews were over, he went back to Patrice’s quarters. He watched his step as he opened the door and entered. Besides the bloody trail from the lounge to the bathroom, the bedroom was neat and tidy. The bedclothes were turned back, as if Patrice had been on his way to bed. He seemed to have been overpowered in the lounge. Unfortunately there was no way of knowing what time the incident took place. Patrice tended to go to bed quite early.
The stain on the carpet and the blood spatters confirmed Nick’s suspicion that Patrice had been shot in the lounge. What he didn’t understand was why his attackers hadn’t made sure he was dead. If they had surprised him, they must have had the advantage over him. Why were there signs of a scuffle? Had they intended taking him along? Considering that the attackers had managed to enter a well-protected house undetected, the scene in Patrice’s living quarters was just too messy.
Nick found no spent cartridges during a preliminary search, but a while later he found one under the couch, where it had landed against the skirting board. He fetched a plastic bag from the kitchen, picked up the evidence with a pen and sealed it inside the Ziploc bag. He found no other possible forensic evidence.
He locked the door and put the key to Patrice’s flat in his pocket. Then he opened the back door and went out into the narrow alleyway bordering on the mountain. A high electrified fence separated the property from the mountainside. Unable to see much in the dark, he returned to Allegretti’s bedroom.
It was exactly the way he had found it earlier. If Allegretti had been kidnapped, he didn’t seem to have put up a fight. The room looked no different from any other night he spent on his own. Nick went into the dressing room, but the closets were so crammed with clothing that he realised he wouldn’t notice if anything was missing.
Nothing seemed to have been disturbed in the bathroom. Toothbrush, shaving kit, moisturiser were all there, as well as a variety of expensive deodorants and after-shave colognes. In the cabinet under the basins he found a large box of condoms.
Being chief of security to the Allegretti family had always been a challenge. Playing a dual role sometimes felt like the least of his problems. In Johannesburg it had been easier. Allegretti Senior was an intelligent man, who listened to reason. But since the old man had sent Nick to Cape Town a few months ago, he’d felt more like a childminder to two spoilt brats. Enzio Allegretti did not have his father’s insight and did exactly as he pleased.
Nick watched all the footage from the security cameras, but the guards were right. Nothing was visibly wrong. When day began to break, he went out through the kitchen door again and walked the length of the alley to the service gate at the side of the property. The morning air was chilly and he could smell the ocean. There was no sign of yesterday’s warm berg wind. Autumn was in the air. The gate was locked and the lock had not been tampered with. There were footprints on the paving, but the property was patrolled