7 Days by Deon Meyer Read Free Book Online

files.
    It just wouldn’t fit.
    And the photographs. Sloet having them taken deliberately in a studio. Seductive. Naked.
    Nonetheless she had not been in a serious relationship during the past year. It bothered him,
that
combination.
    Maybe she didn’t have time for relationships. In the gym at six in the morning, only home at eight at night. Last year she was still driving in from Stellenbosch, back in the evening.
    Maybe. But why the photos then, the effort?
    He must remember to ask Tommy Nxesi where they had found the photos. Where had she kept them?
    He kept his thoughts deliberately on the case, because he didn’t want to relive his great embarrassment. But somewhere on the edge of sleep he remembered with a degree of satisfaction that someone had mistaken him for Paul Eilers tonight.
    So he couldn’t be
that
ugly.

7
    He dreamed of Lize Beekman. They were walking down a busy street and he was endlessly trying to explain why he had said such a ridiculous thing in front of her. But she wasn’t paying attention to him. Shedisappeared, melted away in the crowd and people looked at him with great disdain on their faces.
    The cellphone’s alarm jerked him awake and he half sat up, not sure where he was.
    He saw the file on the dressing table. The events of yesterday slowly penetrated through to him. He rubbed his palms over his face. He got up slowly, dressed and went to the bathroom to empty his bladder and wash his face. Then he took a cautious look in Alexa’s bedroom.
    She was still asleep.
    He considered his options. He had to go home, shower, shave, brush his teeth and eat breakfast – he hadn’t eaten a thing last night. And then meet Tommy Nxesi at Sloet’s apartment. But he didn’t want just to leave Alexa like this …
    He made a decision, carried the files down to his car, found the notebook and pen in the glove compartment. The morning was bright and clear without a breath of wind, the mountain and cliffs glowing. He stood in the street for a moment taking it in, then he jogged back, sat down again at the dressing table in the second bedroom to write her a note.
    Alexa
    I am really sorry about last night. It was all my fault. Call me when you wake up. I want to talk to you urgently
.
    Benny
    He tore the page out, tiptoed into her room and put it on the bedside cabinet where she would see it.
    The sparkling new five-storey building at 36 on Rose was designed to represent the Bo-Kaap architecture with a modern twist. The lower levels were colourfully painted, just like the little labourers’ houses further down Rose Street.
    Nxesi was waiting at the front door. He was the same height as Griessel, but broader, slightly bow-legged. His black-framed glasses and brown tweed jacket gave him a professorial look. His greeting was friendly. ‘I’ve got the keys, but security will have to take us up to the floor.’ He had a township accent. He held the door open for Griessel.
    ‘Sorry about this, Tommy,’ Griessel said as he walked in.
    ‘It’s nothing, Captain. I expected you guys to take over the case long ago.’
    The entrance foyer was new and shiny. A man and a woman in security uniforms sat behind a desk. Nxesi pointed at the TV camera behind them, on the wall. ‘The CCTV and the card system in the lifts should have been operational by the end of December, but at the end of January they were still finishing up. On January eighteenth there was no security except these people at reception. Trouble is, at the time, an intruder could have entered via the parking garage.’
    He showed his SAPS identification card to the female guard, spoke to her in Xhosa. She made them sign a book first, a precaution Griessel never could fathom, since you could write absolutely anything there.
    Then she led them to the lift. ‘Nowadays you have to push a card in if you want to go up.’ Nxesi pointed to a slot just above the button panel of the lift. ‘Then you press the right floor. If you press a number that is not