Recipes for Love and Murder. Sally Andrew
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Название: Recipes for Love and Murder
Автор: Sally Andrew
Издательство: Ingram
Жанр: Контркультура
isbn: 9781782116479
isbn:
‘And it simply doesn’t make sense for Dirk to wipe his own poker, you’d expect to find his prints on it,’ said Hattie, accepting her tea and ignoring the beskuit.
‘Ja, but he is a bloody idiot,’ said Jessie, ‘so he might do such a thing.’
‘I think we must talk to him,’ I said.
‘But would he talk to us?’ said Hattie. ‘I gather he’s not a friendly chap.’
‘I have a piece of that chocolate cake,’ I said, ‘and a lamb sandwich. With mustard and gherkins. That could make him talk.’
‘I don’t think we should be giving that bastard cake and lamb,’ Jessie said. ‘He deserves a sharp kick in the balls.’
‘The man has a gun, you know,’ said Hattie. ‘But I agree he’s more likely to talk to a tannie with food than a pair of Gazette investigators.’
‘Okay,’ said Jessie. ‘You can try going in with the food and I’ll wait outside. If you shout, I’ll come running with that kick. And a pepper spray.’
I could’ve used Jessie in my days with my husband. I gave her another beskuit.
‘Dirk’s staying at the Dwarsrivier Bed & Breakfast,’ said Jessie. ‘I saw his car outside and I spoke to Tannie Sarie, who cleans at the B&B. He’s booked in for a couple of days.’
‘Why’d he move out?’ I asked.
‘It’s a crime scene. The forensic team from Oudtshoorn was here – the LCRC. They’ve put that yellow tape all over the place.’
‘Goodness, Jess. How do you know all this?’ asked Hattie. ‘Are you seeing Reghardt then? Does he tell you these things?’
‘Not exactly,’ said Jessie, twirling her ponytail around her finger. ‘We have seen a bit of each other, though, and I did overhear him talking on the phone, and then I just happened to drive by the Van Schalkwyk farm. Came straight back when I saw the LCRC vehicles.’
Hattie shook her head.
‘I think we should visit the crime scene ourselves,’ Jessie said. ‘Soon. Before Dirk goes home. The LCRC will be finished there today and the police guard will be removed.’
‘Oh, golly, Jess, I don’t want you getting into trouble,’ said Hattie.
‘Anna’s the one in trouble, for a murder she didn’t do. We’ve got to try and help her.’
‘We can’t go breaking the law,’ said Hattie.
‘Maybe you can’t,’ said Jessie. ‘You’re the boss. But I’m an investigative journalist; I’m expected to break the law.’
‘Maybe we can stretch the crime scene tape a little,’ I said, ‘without breaking it.’
Harriet sighed, and said, ‘Girls, girls, please don’t do anything stupid.’
Jessie winked at me. We both looked at Hattie with wide, innocent eyes. Jessie had her last sip of coffee. Her hand touched the pepper spray on her belt.
‘Let’s go,’ she said. ‘I bet Dirk’s hungry.’
CHAPTER TWENTY
The Dwarsrivier Bed & Breakfast was only two blocks away, but the summer sun can fry you on the pavement, so we went in my bakkie. There were a lot of cars outside the B&B; I had to park a little way down the road. We walked slowly towards the building in the skinny shade of some thorn trees. It was one of those low square houses they built in the seventies, painted a pale brown without much character. Nothing like the original Victorian Ladismith houses. But it had a nice lawn in front of it with edges of pink flowers and a bench in the shade of Karoo willow tree.
‘That’s Dirk’s Toyota,’ said Jessie, pointing out a big white 4×4.
There was also a Hilux van outside the guest house, and a family was unloading backpacks from it.
‘They don’t look like hikers,’ I said.
They were well dressed, not the type to get their boots muddy. On the side of their van was a picture and some writing.
‘Seventh-day Adventists,’ said Jessie. ‘I did an article . . . ’ She was looking up the road. ‘Isn’t that Anna?’
Yes, it was her, jumping out of her farm bakkie. Now she was striding towards the B&B. She was further away than us, but moving fast, her head down and her eyebrows coming together in a frown.
‘She must have got out on bail,’ I said.
‘She’s also coming to see Dirk,’ said Jessie.
‘I bet she’s not bringing cake,’ I said.
‘Anna,’ I called and waved. She didn’t look up. We moved faster. ‘Anna!’
She saw us, but didn’t look happy about it. Jessie ran ahead and stood at the gate entrance, blocking her way. But Anna didn’t slow down; she was going to crash right into Jessie.
‘Anna. Wait!’
I wasn’t running, because I don’t believe in running, but I was walking very fast and my breathing interfered with my shouting. Anna stopped and glared at me. She was wearing those farm boots and jeans and a man’s white shirt.
I wiped sweat off my forehead and waited for my voice to catch up with me before I said, ‘What are you doing?’
‘Tannie Maria,’ she said. ‘Stay out of the way.’
She pushed Jessie aside as if Jessie was light as a meringue and barrelled up the concrete path towards the front door. A man with a big beard jumped out of her way and into a flower bed. Before she stepped inside she rested her hand on a bulge at the back of her shirt. It was a gun, tucked into her jeans.
Jessie pulled out her pepper spray.
‘That’s no match for a gun,’ I said.
‘I know,’ she said, ‘but Dirk’s got a gun too, and she might need help.’
‘Jessie, no,’ I said but she scooted up the path and into the building.
I plodded after her, armed with only my Tupperware. I crossed a dark carpet with a mottled pattern to get to the reception area where there were some beige couches and a young redhead behind a desk. There was no sign of Anna or Jessie.
‘Call the police. Now,’ I said. ‘And an ambulance.’
The girl just looked at me with her mouth hanging open. I grabbed the phone off her desk and dialled.
‘Ma . . . ’ called the girl.
She wrapped her finger around a strand of her hair, and twisted it round and round. The policeman who answered the phone СКАЧАТЬ