“I’ll bet! Did you-?”
“Stick around. When I was last at their place I told the Captain that we’d caught a loony housebreaker who admitted pushing Andy in. So when I ask her why she’s so anxious it was accidental, she says she doesn’t want the bloke to hang for nothing. That’s all right, I tell her, we know it wasn’t him. And then I say, all calm-like, ‘What happened, Mrs. Jarvis, did you and Andy roll over the edge?’ ”
“Christ!”
Zondi made a muffled sound.
“Next thing she’s laughing crazy but quietly and asking me how I know. That was a good moment to get the hell out, but I waited. Then she asked me what happens next and I tell her, Nothing. Like she says, it was an accident. No sense in dragging up evidence that would not alter the court’s verdict. I explain that was why I was calling by. Her relief, it was fantastic. The Captain had said he would kill her if it ever got in the papers.”
“But wait a minute, sir; if the two deaths are connected, then what the hell did she think she was doing?” Pembrook said.
“She felt guilty about the mad kaffir she thought we’d string up.”
“Since when has guilt been stronger than self-preservation? She could have left well alone. All this implicates her in the other.”
“Only if she connected them also. Think about it.”
Pembrook looked round at Zondi. All he saw was the crown of a straw hat tipped well forward.
“Be fair, sir,” he entreated. “You must have asked more than one question.”
“ Ach, yes, I’d forgotten. Just as I got back into the car, telling her not to worry, I said, ‘Do you ever wear trendy lipstick when you want to feel younger?’ And she answered, ‘What woman doesn’t?’ Enough for you now?”
The wattle truck, laden with bark and a loll of plantation workers, one of whom was playing the concertina, slowed down even further as the long climb up the escarpment began. Delighted to discover he had a following, the musician turned on a special performance. Kramer found it amusing for three bars and then put a mile between them.
“Slow down a bit, sir. I want to know what’s on or I won’t know what I’m supposed to be doing.”
“Let me just tell you then and no hard feelings. A lot of this is still shots in the dark, but we’ll be able to verify it before long-that much I promise you.
“We’ll start with this bloke Andy-Randy Andy, according to the girls, but not getting any from them. We add to him our dear Sylvia, who sounds, from your mate’s description, in much the same boat. What have we got? A bit of whatnot without any too great a stretch of the imagination. Follow?”
“Surely the Captain-”
“Go back to Jackson the cook. He told us they slept in different rooms. Caroline felt safe to sneak out again after ten so you have a fair idea of when the old man hit the sack. This left a lot of night for lovin’ in-yes? And one night they’re down at the swimming bath, probably had an hour of it already and trying out a few variations. I think a psychologist friend of mine might even say that Sylvia would go for ‘reversal of roles’ after being married to that bullying bugger for eighteen years. Anyway, there she was, sitting on Andy, right near the edge-”
“Why?”
Kramer shrugged.
“Maybe for a bit of extra excitement. Kicks? Or they could have moved across without noticing. Anyway, they climax and fall in. Andy doesn’t see what’s coming. The water slams into his vagus, he’s dead. Now, don’t start on adrenalin because, if you know anything about the subject we’re discussing, you’ll know how fast it sends you to sleep afterwards. Besides, it’s been proved scientifically to my satisfaction.”
“In America, I bet.”
“Uhuh. Can you imagine what it must have been like for her? The boy was dead in an instant. That’s why she didn’t even try to get him out: the fact was so obvious that all she could think of was to run for help. She told me the Captain had said he would kill her if it got out. So she must have gone right to him, or had hysterics, or something, but the fact remains he was aware of the situation. He covered up, not for her sake, you can be sure.”
“I know: the family name. Remember he got drunk and banned soon after?”
“You’re learning fast. Now tell me, where does Boetie come into this?”
A short pause followed as Pembrook prepared himself for the test. He was sweating all of a sudden.
“Accepting what you have said as basically correct, sir, then we can start when Boetie was crouching behind the tennis court watching something going on between a male and a female on the patio. From the fact he made a mistake in his identification, we deduce he could only distinguish rough forms, length of hair, and so on. Suddenly they…”
“Heave?”
“Yes, heave, and roll in. Well, he sees the female surface and run away.”
“She could have dived a few times but he’d think she was pressing her attack.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Go on.”
“Boetie expects to-”
“Just a minute, sorry to interrupt, but I’ve just realized how I hit on the ‘rolling in’ idea. Jarvis quoted Strydom as saying so and it struck because the DS didn’t-never mind.”
“Naturally Boetie waits a little for her maybe to come back. By the time he gets to the patio, he is sure the male is dead. He looks around for clothing to identify the female with-all he can find is a cigarette.”
“Gone out in one of the oyster shells.”
“Hey? He takes it and zooms home, wondering if he should tell the police. Like someone said, he decides they will sort it out. But come Monday and the inquest verdict, he is sure a mistake has been made because-more than that-people are lying and that means something sinister is going on.”
“What proof did he have?” Kramer asked.
“He knew one thing for absolute certain, and that was Andy had someone with him when he fell in.”
“Be careful now and think as though you are Boetie-remember everything you know about him.”
Pembrook, made irritable by so many interruptions, fought to keep a civil tongue in his head.
“Lying, to Boetie, implies evil. He appraises the situation again. His confidence in the police drives him to have his doubts about what he’s seen happening-perhaps there is another explanation. It crosses his mind that it might have been a shameful act and hence the silence, but he’s never heard of it done like that. Being a good detective, he checks this out with the Dominee.”
“First class!”
“The dates made that one easy, sir,” Pembrook said, very heartened. “The Dominee flips his lid and ‘puts him right’ and we all know what that means. Boetie comes away convinced he had seen a death struggle. Convinced he’s a pretty smart cookie after all. Still, there is a little doubt remaining. If he tells the police and hasn’t more than his story to back him up, then there could be trouble. He was a great one for the trespass laws himself.”
“I favor the idea he did it to win the Midnight Leopards a big pat on the back.”
“Or himself.”
“Certainly. Thank God we didn’t pull the magazine in on this-it didn’t have any responsibility, the more you think about it. And then?”
“Boetie gives Hester the shove, chums up with Sally, and tries to identify the female. The lipstick on the cigarette makes Caroline Suspect Number One. You know, sir, that ciggie must have been still warm or something for him to link it so strongly.”
“With Boetie, you can bet your boots on it. Caution all down the line.”
“That’s really shown in what happened next, sir, I would think. We know there was nothing between Caroline and Andy, so he hits trouble straightaway in trying to connect them. But he keeps at it for a whole month before trying out a bit of the old head-on attack to see what she does.”
Kramer gestured for him to steer while he lit up a Lucky. The turn-off to the country club was just beyond the next rise.
“No doubt, Pembrook, our friend Sally must have dropped a few hints about Andy’s morals.”
“I grant that could keep him hoping, sir, but-hell, that’s as far as I can get. Sorry, sir.”