Read Online The Water Man's Daughter by Emma Ruby-Sachs - Free Book Online

his hotel. The meeting went very late, but I know that Mr. Matthews was at the hotel when I left.”
    “We found a receipt for a beer at the hotel lobby bar on his body. It was issued at 11:53.”
    “Beer?”
    “Yes.”
    “Mr. Matthews never drank beer. He only had Jack Daniels. Occasionally with Coke. At least as far as I have ever seen.”
    Zembe makes a mental note to re-examine the receipt. “Did he have any friends here, any other acquaintances? Anyone he might have called to join him after you left?”
    “Mr. Matthews knew no one but me. And maybe a few of our employees. I will be happy to provide you with a list.”
    “Thank you.” Zembe moves to get out of her seat.
    “Feel free to call my office if you need any further assistance, Detective Afrika. And do keep us updated on the gang investigation.”
    As if I need to
, Zembe thinks as she nods, and leaves.
    B ACK AT THE STATION , Z EMBE CALLS S IPHO AND scolds him for leaking information to the water company.
    “It wasn’t me,” he insists.
    Zembe, undeterred by his profession of innocence, continues. “Now he is waiting for gang investigation results. This ties my hands, Sipho, I have no freedom to pursue other leads.”
    “Do you have other leads?”
    Zembe thinks about the receipt, a beer Matthews didn’t drink, and decides to keep it to herself, for now.
    “No.”
    “Then it’s going to be a gang investigation. Either way, start at the top and work your way down.”
    “You mean track down Kholizwe? It’s not easy to find that man even when we know he is in the vicinity.”
    “You worried you’re not up to the job?” Sipho asks.
    “No. I was going to start on the other end of the spectrum, work my way up the chain of command.”
    “Try for Kholizwe,” he says. “He is always around when things like this happen.”
    “Things like this? When was the last time a foreign businessman was murdered in a township? There is nothing like this.”
    “I trust you, Afrika. Keep me updated.” He hangs up.
    She would love to keep Sipho updated, but wonders how to run a murder investigation while dealing with the barrage of petty crimes she handles every day. If only she could hole up in her office and study the file until the workday finished. Instead, she takes out a buggy, miraculously available and waiting in the office lot, and begins her rounds. She covers the lok’shini only, focusing on the centre of the township and leaving the violent and cluttered outlying areas to teams of two younger officers. She used to avoid doing rounds altogether, but then started hearing complaints from shopkeepers about a lack of police presence in the downtown leading to increased robberies. It seems the relatively quiet centre of Phiri was a convenient place for junior officers to skip when making it through the informal settlement took too long. Now, Zembe takes a downtown route every other day, and covers all lok’shini robberies herself, proving that a desk job in the township is anything but.
    Zembe’s first stop is the café outside of the community centre. Ice cream, ginger beer, and Coke are the only things on the menu, but it’s still a popular spot. Behind the bar today is a girl, no more than fifteen. She pours ginger beer out of the bottle into a paper cup and hands it to Zembe. Zembe scans the crowd. At the far end, NomsulwaSithu sits chatting with her tall cousin. Nomsulwa catches sight of Zembe and she and her cousin stand up and try to slip inconspicuously out the back gate. Before she is out of earshot, Zembe calls out. Nomsulwa stops, her cousin continues past her almost at a run. Zembe motions for Nomsulwa to meet her outside and then leaves, ginger beer in hand, with a nod of thanks to the girl behind the counter.
    “What’s up?” Nomsulwa asks the question when she is still a good ten feet from the door of Zembe’s car. Her body is tall and thick, strong but with the curves of a woman, it casts a long shadow. She makes no move to come