Just a Dead Man by Margaret von Klemperer Read Free Book Online Page B

let them know what was going on.

9
    C HANTAL IS TOUGH AND capable and manages an NGO office working with abused women. She picked up the phone on its first ring. Her Cape accent was sharpened by concern.
    â€œLaura! Thank heavens it’s you, man. What’s going on? I just came in now and there’s a scribbled note from Dan saying: ‘Been arrested’. Where is he? Has he spoken to you? I tried his phone, but it’s switched off.”
    I told her what I knew, and that Robin had gone to the police station. I then asked if Verne was there.
    â€œNo. He was meeting some postgrads this afternoon and he’s not back yet. Should we go to the cops when he gets in? See if there’s anything we can do?”
    â€œAs soon as Robin gets back to me, I’ll phone you. I don’t think there’s much we can do before then. But Chantal … if it comes to bail … do you know if Dan’s got any money at the moment?”
    â€œShouldn’t think so. Look, between Verne and me, we could probably scrape something together …”
    â€œSo could I, but not if it’s going to be thousands.”
    â€œWell, let’s worry about that when it happens.”
    I didn’t know Chantal all that well. She and Verne both came to Pietermaritzburg from the Cape, about five years ago. Verne had supervised Daniel’s master’s degree, and Iknew him from the Fine Arts Department, but I wouldn’t have described either him or Chantal as friends of mine. Just reasonably friendly acquaintances. But I asked Chantal if she knew anything about Daniel’s connection with the dead man. Maybe she knew something I could tell Robin.
    All she could tell me was that Dan had phoned a week or so ago, saying he wanted to come down as he had arranged to meet someone who lived in Durban and who might have information he could use, and that while he was here he would do some research in the university library. She said she hadn’t talked to him about what it was: he might have spoken to Verne but she didn’t know. I said again that I would get back to them when I heard anything, and hung up.
    Waiting for Robin to phone was horrible. I was too restless to work, or to read, and I wasn’t hungry. I didn’t want to tell the boys that Dan had been arrested until I had a better idea of what would happen next. I switched on the television and surfed through the channels, but there was nothing to hold my attention. I roamed the house, straightening cushions, moving a couple of earth-toned Zulu baskets I had picked up over the years to see whether they would look better somewhere else. But my heart wasn’t in it. I’ve often felt I can handle a crisis when I’m in the middle of it, but I’m not cut out for the times when there is nothing concrete to be done and the imagination takes over. Waiting is the real test.
    Eventually, at around 8 o’clock, Robin rang. The news was not good. “They’ve booked him, Laura, and he’s due in court on Thursday morning.”
    â€œOh God – why not tomorrow, Rob?”
    â€œBe grateful. It could have been Friday. I saw Pillay there, and Dhlomo. I did get the feeling he’s got it in forDaniel, though I don’t know why. He seemed to resent the fact that I was there and wanted to know who had contacted me. So he’s probably got it in for you too now. Anyway, Daniel will appear in the District Court, and we’ll get it remanded to the Regional Court for a bail hearing, probably around the end of next week. I can’t see it happening before then, Laura. I’ve explained to Dan that he’ll be kept in the holding cells until Thursday anyway, and probably until the second court date as well. He’ll be okay. Don’t worry too much about that.”
    But I did worry. Dan was Zimbabwean, and there were always terrible stories about what happened in police cells, especially to people who might not