7 Days by Deon Meyer Read Free Book Online Page A

programmed on your card, it won’t work. Coming down, it works automatically.’
    ‘But on January eighteenth it wasn’t working?’
    ‘No. Two days after the murder, then it was working.’ He shook his head.
    The security guard made a noise of protest. Nxesi adjusted his glasses. ‘They’re touchy about the murder, because half the flats are still for sale.’
    At the door, while he unlocked, Nxesi said, ‘Everything is just as it was, because the case is still open. But the lawyers have started to nag the SC, they want us to clean up, so they can wind up the estate. The parents inherit everything. They live in Jeffreys Bay. Retired.’
    He pushed the door open, waited for Griessel to go ahead.
    Griessel confirmed that there was a peephole in the front door, and a security chain and bolt, undamaged. Then he stopped, he wanted to get a feel for the room first.
    It was smaller than the impression created by the photographs, but still spacious and attractive and modern. The morning light shining through the large windows made it look cheerful, and the view south included a part of Signal Hill. To his left was the single pillar, the kitchen behind it. He heard the quiet murmur of the fridge, an expensivedouble-door. The couch and chairs stood between the pillar and the windows, in the centre of the room. The painting hung on the wall to his right, above the stereo. The artwork looked more interesting than it did in the photographs. At the window stood the white telescope on a tripod.
    He looked around, saw Nxesi watching him intently. ‘Can I see the key, Tommy?’
    The Xhosa detective held it out to him. ‘This one is for the front door.’ He showed the silver Yale key. ‘This one is for her car, the other is for those cupboards up there.’ The bunch was attached to a little metal ring.
    ‘Were there any spare keys?’
    ‘Just for the cupboards, and her car. She kept them in the drawer beside her bed.’
    ‘In her office?’
    Nxesi shook his head.
    ‘And security? Do they have a key?’
    ‘Hayi
. Only the caretaker has a master key, but he doesn’t have a lift card. Security has to bring him, but only if the owner has given permission.’
    ‘Her car?’
    ‘It’s still here, down in the parking garage. Mini Cooper S Convertible. Forensics have been through it. Nothing.’
    ‘Thanks.’ Griessel handed the keys back.
    He looked at the blood.
    On the shiny, grey marble tiles, three paces from the entrance, was the first fan of fine brown dried blood spray, circled in black by Forensics. About a metre further on was the wide, hardened pool where she had lain.
    Griessel reversed, as far as the threshold, took two steps forward, another shuffle. The murderer would have stood here. The mortal wound was inflicted right here. She had staggered backwards, probably from the violence of it. Then collapsed.
    Griessel bent down, examined the first, delicate spatters. They had been perfectly preserved, no footprints, no smearing.
    He walked past the pillar, to the kitchen. The sink was empty. The worktop was clean, just as it was in the photos.
    ‘Tommy, was there nothing in the sink?’
    Nxesi came and stood with him. ‘Nothing. She ate at work. Ordered a Thai take-away, around about six-forty in the evening. The delivery service left it at reception at Silberstein House at five past seven. Then they phoned her and she went to collect it. The boxes were in her trash. That’s why the pathologist was so certain about the time of death. He says that last meal had barely left the stomach, there was very little in the small intestine. If she ate just before seven, then the time of death was very close to ten o’clock.’
    ‘You’re a good detective, Tommy,’ Griessel said pensively.
    ‘I try …’
    ‘When I … They did it to me too, Tommy. Gave my case to someone else. I know how it feels.’
    ‘Captain, it’s OK.’ He fiddled with his glasses again.
    ‘It’s easier when you can read the whole case file