Endgame. Wilna Adriaanse

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СКАЧАТЬ here at four tomorrow afternoon and I want news by then.”

      “By the way,” he added as they were getting to their feet, “my name is not to be mentioned. If there are enquiries or if anyone wants to speak to your boss, contact Captain Barnard.”

      “Yes, Colonel,” they chorused.

      “My name is Nick,” he said, and wrote down two cellphone numbers on a piece of paper, which he handed to Jansen. “These are the numbers we’re looking for.” He put a blank page on the table. “Your names and phone numbers. Make sure you have everyone else’s numbers.” He wrote his own number at the top of the list. “And remember, this is not an official investigation. Neither of these incidents has been reported. We’re not supposed to know about them. Be vague, say just enough for people to be willing to answer, but don’t give any details.”

      When everyone had left, Nick and Clive walked through the rest of the house. A large living room with couches and easy chairs led off the dining room and kitchen. A flatscreen television set was fixed to the wall. Nick wondered what kind of operation the house had originally been meant for.

      To the left of the front door was a study, furnished with a desk and two armchairs. Two of the bedrooms along the passage contained a desk and a single divan positioned against the wall. There was a bathroom off the passage and what appeared to be the main bedroom at the end of the passage. A king-sized bed had been placed in the middle of the room, with night tables on either side. It looked as if the owners had simply walked out.

      The back yard had a lawn and a pool and a big plane tree whose falling leaves were changing colour – they lay in heaps on the lawn and floated in the pool.

      They returned to the study and sat down on opposite sides of the desk.

      “We don’t have enough people.”

      Clive nodded. “I know, but we’re not going to get more. Firstly, because they really can’t give us any more and, secondly, because we don’t want to involve too many people. The ones we have now have been carefully selected.”

      They talked about the budget and a few minutes into the discussion Nick was grateful he had approached Barnard. He knew what he was doing and exactly what they might need.

      Nick hadn’t worked closely with a team for a long time. It was going to be a challenge.

      CHAPTER 10

      It was getting dark when Ellie stopped at Melissa’s home. She’d been hesitant about going there but after being with Clive and Albert, she longed to see a familiar face. Someone who knew her better than she knew herself.

      A friendship of twenty years meant that there were no secrets between them. They often teased each other that they couldn’t afford to fight. Each knew too much about the other. Melissa’s being a psychologist was sometimes an advantage, and sometimes exactly the opposite. There had been times Ellie had wished she could hide things from her. So far she’d never had any success.

      Melissa opened the door, took a step back and frowned. “I’ve already donated all our old clothes to the welfare and there’s no more bread.”

      “I could take a child instead.”

      “I may be able to help with that. But only if you take two.” Melissa unlocked the security gate, held out her arms and hugged Ellie. “I don’t know why I’m being so nice. I’m pissed off with you. Where the hell have you been? I haven’t heard from you in ages.”

      “You worry too much. I’m like a cockroach. When everybody’s gone, I’ll still be around.”

      Melissa looked at the motorbike at the kerb. “I’d rather not ask.”

      They went into the house. Screams sounded from somewhere inside.

      “It’s Daddy’s turn to give them their bath. By this time both he and the bathroom are drenched, but it gives me a chance to enjoy a glass of wine in peace.” She picked up the bottle from the kitchen counter, took out another glass and filled it. “Let’s go to the lounge. It’s the last place they’ll look for me.”

      When they were seated opposite each other, Melissa raised her glass. “I don’t know what we’re drinking to, but cheers.”

      “How are you?”

      Melissa gave a dismissive wave. “Life in suburbia. Tell me what you’re doing here. Are you back?”

      “I had some business in the city, and no, I’m not back yet.”

      “What kind of business? Did you see your mom? I saw her with Janus the other day and she told me they’re getting married.”

      “So she tells me. This coming Saturday, mind you. She doesn’t see any reason to wait.”

      “And you’re okay with it?”

      “No. On the other hand, she must do as she pleases. I can’t face another battle. She seems happy. They’re going to buy a caravan. I don’t know what else they’re planning. As long as I don’t have to go camping with them. Or stay over.”

      Melissa laughed. “You can have matching tracksuits made and wear them on your camping trips.”

      “You’ve definitely had too much wine.”

      “What’s going on with the minister?”

      “I think it’s time to let him know I may not be the kind of woman he’s looking for. Then again, I can’t help wondering … what are the odds a man like that will ever come my way again? Especially one who’s brave enough to take me on.”

      “You can’t get married just because he’s a good man. You have to feel something for him.”

      “I think I could feel something for him.”

      “That’s not how it works, and you should know it.”

      “Mel, have you ever considered that all this love-and-emotion stuff may be bullshit? Look at the divorce statistics. Isn’t it time for a different model?”

      “Marrying someone you don’t feel anything for?”

      “But whom you respect.”

      Melissa shook her head. “Sweetie, maybe you’ve been getting too much sun. No, while it’s great to respect your partner, there’s got to be something more.”

      “I think you’re mistaken, but we can continue this conversation another day.”

      “You and Albert?”

      “I saw him this afternoon. Albert is still Albert. Unlikely to change. Part of me will always care for him, but maybe it’s more the way a mother cares for a problem child. I don’t know. Relationships aren’t my forte. You could probably write a dissertation about the choices I’ve made, which is why I’m wondering whether I’ve always had the wrong end of the stick.”

      “I blame those bloody fairy tales. I’m never going to read Mia stories with handsome princes in them. I’m not going to raise another woman who spends her entire life searching for СКАЧАТЬ