A Death in the Family by Michael Stanley Read Free Book Online Page B

at today’s prices and certainly not enough to cover the costs of the food. At least it is something, he thought.
    Another thought struck him as he sifted through the papers. “Mother, did Father have a will?”
    Amantle stopped sewing. “Yes, he did. I remember he got one of the elders to help him with it when you turned twenty-one. He said it needed to be changed. That seems a long time ago now.”
    Kubu knew it was a long time, over fifteen years. “Do you know where he kept it?”
    Without a word, Amantle put aside the cushion and walked to the bedroom. He heard her open the cupboard and pull something out. “They are gone!” she exclaimed. “All his papers!”
    She returned to the lounge carrying a metal lockbox with rust around the hinges. “He kept his private papers in here, like his will and his identity document and his savings book from the bank. It is all gone! These skelms have stolen it. They kill him and then they come and steal his things…” She collapsed into a chair and started to weep.
    Kubu went to comfort her. “Mother, that may not be it. I found his identity card on the table with the other papers. Maybe the detectives just picked the things off the floor and put them here for us to sort out. Don’t worry. I’ll go through everything.” But Amantle shook her head and continued to cry.
    Kubu returned to the table and sorted the papers. “Ah!” he said, pleased. “Here’s the savings book! I’m sure the will is here too.”
    But it wasn’t. And although they searched the whole house, they could find no trace of it.
    I should really let Mabaku know, Kubu thought. But let’s see how long it takes them to ask us if anything’s been taken.

 
    CHAPTER 12
    The meeting at the CID the next morning was not pretty. Mabaku was in a foul mood because there had been little progress, and Zanele had found nothing at Amantle’s house that she could use.
    â€œThere were no signs of a forced entry,” she said. “I think the murderer must’ve taken the front-door key from Kubu’s father.” She glanced nervously at Mabaku. “We have nothing to go on,” she continued, exasperated. “We’ve picked up a lot of hairs and will start going through them today. But I doubt they’ll be any help. There’ve been dozens of people there over the past few days. And the same goes for fingerprints—lots of them, but we’ll have to eliminate them one by one by checking on everyone who’s been at the house. Even then, it’s unlikely we’ll get a match. Whoever broke in was pretty careful.”
    She looked at her notebook. “We’ve also been trying to identify the maker of the boot that left the partial print near the crime scene. The tread is very unusual and doesn’t match any of our records. We sent a print to Interpol so see if they could help. They responded very quickly for a change. It’s a common boot made in China. I have one of my people going to all the Chinese general stores in Gabs to see if they carry them.”
    Then it was Samantha’s turn. She reported that she had just received information from Mascom about the calls on Wilmon’s phone.
    â€œThe three calls not from Kubu came from pay phones in Mahalapye. Two from the same phone and the third from a different one.”
    â€œMahalapye?” Mabaku interjected. “Kubu’s father’s half brother lives there. They didn’t get on apparently. Go on.”
    â€œI also made a list of Rra Bengu’s closest friends,” Samantha continued. “I’m going back to Mochudi later today to talk to them.”
    She closed her notebook and leaned forward.
    â€œThere is one other thing, though,” she said. All heads turned toward her. “It’s just an idea that I had. When the director, Zanele, and I were going through the house, everything had