Interpol could send someone to get to the bottom of this sometime soon, I guess we’ll find out what happened to my Alida.”
Neil didn’t react to the doleful call to action. The man was hurting, but he wasn’t the only one. He didn’t have to extract fifty goddamn bodies from the effluvial depths of a metal tomb eighty feet below the ocean surface. Neil ground his teeth but kept quiet.
“Tell us about her,” Alexa said, obviously trying to lighten the tone.
Eben de Vos scratched at the table with a dirty nail. He looked up. “She was beautiful,” he said then lowered his eyes to the table. “Inside and out.”
Did the big man just sob? Neil berated himself. All people were selfish, according to Karl Marx. He felt a pang of guilt as he looked at the man.
Theron delivered their drinks, splashing some beer onto the table without bothering to clean it up. Eben held up a big paw toward the proprietor. “Wait.” He threw the sherry into the back of his gullet and then drained the beer with two big swallows. He clanked the glass down on the table. “Another round.” He looked at the rest of the group. “Anyone else?”
They shook their heads.
He held a hand to his mouth, burped, breathed in deeply, and let it out slowly. “I guess she was an introvert. She gets that from her mother. She liked to keep to herself.”
“Was she popular at school?” Neil asked.
Eben shook his head. “Like I said, she was an introvert; she didn’t mix easily.”
“But she had a boyfriend?”
Eben’s eyes hardened. “Yes, Dr. Petzer’s kid. I forgot his name.”
“Jake,” Moolman chimed in.
“Yes, the man’s new in town. They moved here a couple of months ago. His father’s the medical doctor up at the mining operation.”
Neil saw Alexa’s ears perk up. She called it a “gut hunch”: it happened whenever she thought something was pertinent to a case. He guessed it was women’s instinct or something absurd and unfamiliar to normal men. He knew the look she got. Her eyebrows rose, she flicked her long bangs back behind an ear—as if she could hear better that way—and her green eyes sparkled.
“Mining operation?” she asked, licking her lower lip like a dog smelling a bone.
Eben frowned. “Yes, they’re doing some exploratory work for Petra Exploratory Projects. PEP wants to frack for oil in the Karoo.” He looked up as Theron approached with his drinks. “Their admin offices are located here at the harbor, but the base is way back over the mountain. They bring in their supplies then they drive them over the mountain to the mine.”
Eben quaffed the glass of sherry that Theron had put in front of him then placed it back on the tray and ordered a refill. He took a sip of beer and wiped the froth from his moustache. “Slander’s Bay is fortunate to have one of the deepest harbors on the west coast, no problem for mooring large container ships.”
“So there’s an exploratory mining operation backed by big money a couple of miles from here?” Alexa asked.
“Yes, why?” Moolman asked.
“And they deliver containers and ship them up to the dig beyond the mountain?”
“I guess,” Moolman said uncertainly.
“Containers which could contain bodies that need to be buried?”
Bruce nodded slowly. “Or low-lead aviation fuel.”
Alexa bit her lip. “This boy, Jake, you’ve spoken to him?”
Eben nodded. “Yes, he said he didn’t know anything.”
“I spoke to him yesterday. He said he found a letter from Alida,” Moolman said.
All four people at the table turned to face Moolman. The inspector sucked on his beer, pulled a coaster closer, and put the glass down. “What? He found a poem addressed to him in the satchel and kept it. Apparently Alida wrote it. Some stupid love poem, that’s all.”
“So why did Jake tell you about it?” Alexa asked.
Moolman sat back in his chair, sipping his drink. “Jake said Alida had scribbled something in some weird language on the back
Neil didn’t react to the doleful call to action. The man was hurting, but he wasn’t the only one. He didn’t have to extract fifty goddamn bodies from the effluvial depths of a metal tomb eighty feet below the ocean surface. Neil ground his teeth but kept quiet.
“Tell us about her,” Alexa said, obviously trying to lighten the tone.
Eben de Vos scratched at the table with a dirty nail. He looked up. “She was beautiful,” he said then lowered his eyes to the table. “Inside and out.”
Did the big man just sob? Neil berated himself. All people were selfish, according to Karl Marx. He felt a pang of guilt as he looked at the man.
Theron delivered their drinks, splashing some beer onto the table without bothering to clean it up. Eben held up a big paw toward the proprietor. “Wait.” He threw the sherry into the back of his gullet and then drained the beer with two big swallows. He clanked the glass down on the table. “Another round.” He looked at the rest of the group. “Anyone else?”
They shook their heads.
He held a hand to his mouth, burped, breathed in deeply, and let it out slowly. “I guess she was an introvert. She gets that from her mother. She liked to keep to herself.”
“Was she popular at school?” Neil asked.
Eben shook his head. “Like I said, she was an introvert; she didn’t mix easily.”
“But she had a boyfriend?”
Eben’s eyes hardened. “Yes, Dr. Petzer’s kid. I forgot his name.”
“Jake,” Moolman chimed in.
“Yes, the man’s new in town. They moved here a couple of months ago. His father’s the medical doctor up at the mining operation.”
Neil saw Alexa’s ears perk up. She called it a “gut hunch”: it happened whenever she thought something was pertinent to a case. He guessed it was women’s instinct or something absurd and unfamiliar to normal men. He knew the look she got. Her eyebrows rose, she flicked her long bangs back behind an ear—as if she could hear better that way—and her green eyes sparkled.
“Mining operation?” she asked, licking her lower lip like a dog smelling a bone.
Eben frowned. “Yes, they’re doing some exploratory work for Petra Exploratory Projects. PEP wants to frack for oil in the Karoo.” He looked up as Theron approached with his drinks. “Their admin offices are located here at the harbor, but the base is way back over the mountain. They bring in their supplies then they drive them over the mountain to the mine.”
Eben quaffed the glass of sherry that Theron had put in front of him then placed it back on the tray and ordered a refill. He took a sip of beer and wiped the froth from his moustache. “Slander’s Bay is fortunate to have one of the deepest harbors on the west coast, no problem for mooring large container ships.”
“So there’s an exploratory mining operation backed by big money a couple of miles from here?” Alexa asked.
“Yes, why?” Moolman asked.
“And they deliver containers and ship them up to the dig beyond the mountain?”
“I guess,” Moolman said uncertainly.
“Containers which could contain bodies that need to be buried?”
Bruce nodded slowly. “Or low-lead aviation fuel.”
Alexa bit her lip. “This boy, Jake, you’ve spoken to him?”
Eben nodded. “Yes, he said he didn’t know anything.”
“I spoke to him yesterday. He said he found a letter from Alida,” Moolman said.
All four people at the table turned to face Moolman. The inspector sucked on his beer, pulled a coaster closer, and put the glass down. “What? He found a poem addressed to him in the satchel and kept it. Apparently Alida wrote it. Some stupid love poem, that’s all.”
“So why did Jake tell you about it?” Alexa asked.
Moolman sat back in his chair, sipping his drink. “Jake said Alida had scribbled something in some weird language on the back
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