Read Online A Beautiful Place to Die by Malla Nunn - Free Book Online Page A

You know how clever Jews are. Willem saw him going in and out of different coloured girls’ houses after sunset. It was obvious what he was up to, so Willem gave him a warning.”
    “Did he tell you how Zweigman reacted?”
    “He didn’t like it, I know that. Willem had to see him a few times before he was sure Zweigman had stopped.”
    “Did Captain Pretorius have problems with anyone else?”
    She was ahead of him, ready with the answer. “That pervert Donny Rooke. Willem sent him to jail for taking dirty pictures of the du Toit girls. He’s been back in Jacob’s Rest four or five months.”
    “He lives out past the coloureds,” Henrick said from the doorway. “He doesn’t come into town unless he has to. His brother runs the shop now.”
    Emmanuel remembered Donny’s All Goods on the main street. “He was angry with the captain for sending him to jail?”
    “Of course. The worst sinners don’t believe they should be punished for their sins.” There was no mistaking the contempt in her for the morally weak. “Willem helped guide this town and now he has been struck down. I pray to God for swift retribution upon the killer.”
    “Amen,” said Louis.
    Emmanuel shifted in his seat, unnerved by the intensity of the woman in front of him. There was no room in her for forgiveness.
    “Anyone else?”
    Mrs. Pretorius sighed. “There was always trouble with the coloureds, drinking and fighting, that sort of thing. They find it hard to control their emotions no matter how much white blood they have in them. Willem understood that, and tried not to be too hard on them.”
    Emmanuel flicked his notebook to a clean page. He’d heard every race theory in South Africa. None of them surprised him anymore. “Can you remember any specific names?”
    “No. Lieutenant Uys will know all the coloured cases. Shabalala will know the native cases. They were a good team, Willem and Shabalala. Everyone respected them. Everyone…”
    The tears came again and Emmanuel stood up before Henrick had a chance to kick him out. He flicked his notebook closed and put it in his pocket. “Thank you for your time, Mrs. Pretorius. Please accept my condolences on the loss of your husband.”
    Louis sprang up and made it to the front entrance ahead of him. He swung the door open and leaned a shoulder against the wood frame. “You’ll catch the killer, won’t you, Detective?”
    “I’ll try.” Emmanuel stepped out onto the veranda. “I can’t promise you any more than that, Louis.”
    “My grandfather was Frikkie van Brandenburg and Pa was a police captain. Your boss sent the best detective out, didn’t he?”
    Stuck in the shed all day, Louis had no idea about little sister Gertie’s botched call to headquarters. As far as the teenaged boy was concerned, the police department had handpicked Emmanuel to break the case open.
    Emmanuel let him down easy. “I’ve solved quite a few cases and I’ll do everything I can to solve this one. Good night, Louis.”
    “Good night, Detective.” Louis’s voice followed him as he crossed the veranda and walked down the stairs to the garden. He made his way back to the police station.
    Emmanuel paused at the corner of van Riebeeck and Piet Retief streets, and felt himself pulled in the direction of the liquor store. Instead, he turned toward the station and Constable Shabalala.
    Now he understood: Frikkie van Brandenberg was the reason the Security Branch was involved. Captain Pretorius was son-in-law to one of the mighty lions of Afrikaner nationhood, a man who preached the sacred history of white civilization like an Old Testament prophet. No wonder the Pretorius brothers hated Zweigman. Jacob’s Rest was too small to contain two tribes claiming to be God’s chosen people.
    The main street was empty. Lights from the garage made a yellow circle in the darkness. A fragment of memory flickered to life. He was running barefoot down a small dirt lane with the smell of wood fires all around