Chapter 60 (A FINISHED picture)
(A FINISHED picture)
As Deric came into the office just after New Year’s Jim said, in his laconic sort of way, ‘See, the place didn’t fall down while you were playing Daddy and little Monty hubby. But still, good to have you back.’
Deric, Mae and the children had a fantastic Christmas with the grandparents and with Aunt Josie and children in attendants. All had a whale of a time playing with Emma. She nearly didn’t touch down. Every now and then Mae said: “Don’t know what we’re gonna do with this little spoiled brat when we’re alone again” but she allowed it anyway. Nathan’s antics – who, as Mae put it, are heading for a career in stand-up comedy – kept them all entertained and in stitches at times. And, of course, according to all, Emma was the cutest thing alive. Nathan liked to look at Emma’s feet and hands and sometimes kissed her on the forehead and sat like a statue when it’s his turn to hold the baby. However, the moment anyone just mentioned the word nappy, he ran off with his nose pinched between his forefinger and thumb shouting “Yuck! Yuck!”
Certainly, one of the most heartfelt moments in Deric’s life was when he called on Judy’s mom and dad. They were so choked up about the baby, saying they knew Judy’s happy for Deric’s sake. They made him promise that they will come round and show little Emma to them again at some point in the near 2014.
Monty knocked on the door and opened it at the same time.
‘What is this, a barn?’ Jim teased relentlessly, ‘doesn’t anyone wait for a polite “Enter” anymore? I think you all must come for “finishing-lessons” at the “Cruse School of Finesse”! I could’ve been sitting here naked!’
‘O.M.G, to use Latisha’s expression, that will be hard to explain, Lieut.’ Monty grinned broadly.
‘Come in, Tim,’ Deric said, ‘I’m trying to get my bearings around here again. It’s not easy after the feeding-frenzy and sleep-ins over Christmas and New Year, ne̒. My head is still halfway home and halfway back at work. How’s the wife? Still as gorgeous as ever, I bet’
It must’ve been one of the handsomest couples Deric ever seen getting married. The day they married she was dressed in a tight-fitting white lace dress and he all in black. It also was one of those rare, enjoyable weddings where nearly everyone stayed long after midnight.
‘Cappie, I know all this is done and dusted but… Doc always says left no stone unturned and all that, and I know you’re still looking to tie up some loose ends. I had some time on my hands since my return last week Thursday so I went through more of the copies of the airport CCTV tapes.’
‘I take it those of the Rodney Gust cum Kimberley Gust case?’ Deric was immediately intrigued.
‘After the Judge’s sentence and the red-head who turned out to be a brunette in disguise. The subsequent letter, presumably by her, telling us that the “Ice-Cream Club” had disband and all that, Danny and I stopped the cutinising of the tapes as there were other cases that needed our attention and that one was, frankly, solved. But, as I said, when I got back with time on my hands and all that, I started to look through some of the tapes again.’
‘You don’t have to make excuses, Tim. Go on.’ Deric encouraged.
‘Well, this time I didn’t just look for the redhead, but I took time to look at faces, slowly…which is still nearly an impossible task because of the many comings and goings. Some don’t even look up at the camera – some just a blur. But then, just when I was about to stop…’
‘You spotted her?’
‘No, not her. Maybe she was sporting yet another wig or a hat and was so aware of the CCTV so she never looked up. No, I didn’t spot her. I did however found that a Gerta le Roux left for Canada that Sunday evening.’
’But, you did find something or else you wouldn’t be standing here “Hmm-ing” and “Aah-ing” while we’re trying to eat?’ Jim said, just as curious.
‘Yes, well, I did. Like Lt Cruse would say we can’t think we’ve been outwitted by a cute girl and an old, deceased lady and all that, but then…’
‘O, for the love of monkeys, spit it out, surfer boy!’ Jim said exasperated.
Monty placed a photo of a group of five people before them. It was an enlargement and in black and white. A girl with long blonde hair was looking directly at the camera.
‘You remember her? This girl here is none other than Yolanda Truter, the Potgieters’ mysterious houseguest, and the one who drove the rental – or rather hired it.’ He pointed her out.
He placed another black and white photo on the desk. It was the same group of people from another angle. The girl whose back was turned to the camera on photo one, was now visible. Deric knew, although it appeared that she too had long blonde hair fastened in a ponytail, it was in fact red. He recognised her immediately. So did Jim.
It was Mila Jordan.
The real Mila Jordan.
‘So…’ Deric said, ’…the plot thickens - or should that be the ice-cream thickens. This Yolanda Truter and Mila Jordan know each other.
Monty placed another photo in front of Deric.
‘I followed the video to see if I can get a better facial view of the black couple standing with them, and I did. I traced them back. The black girl on the left is Naledi Kekana…’
There was a little silenced as the name sank in.
’Is it? Is it the Naledi Kekana?’ A breezy summer scarf was in place round the girl’s neck where Deric knew a thick scare would be visible.
‘Yes, Chuba Jackson’s nemesis. The one that got away. He was exposed and indicted because of her. She pulled off his mask in the struggle and made sure his DNA was under her fingernails.’
‘And this guy?’ Jim asked.
‘Her fiancée, a Jenkins Marvin from Jamaica. Both of them students in England.’
Deric stared at the photo, ‘You think, they…I mean Jackson?’
‘Well, and this is just speculation, seeing that they’re in the company of Mila Jordan…’ Jim said just as astounded, ‘Fuck, yes, that can’t be a co-incident. Mila Jordan knew Brenda Blignaut and she also knows this Naledi girl – got too be! But, we can’t even begin to place them anywhere near the scene of Jackson.’ His face lightened, ‘Luckily!’
‘But wait, here’s the “cherry on the cake” – sorry for the pun!’ Monty said with excitement, ‘see this blonde dude who’s holding hands with Yolanda Truter?’ He placed a third picture before Deric.
’He looks vaguely familiar…’Deric stared at the photo.
Tim Monty placed the sketch of Patsy Semper’s blind date before them.
The man in the sketch looked older - after all Patsy Semper did say he was around mid-forties - with greying black hair and glasses, but the face was unmistakable.
It’s the same man!
‘Who is this guy?’ Deric wanted to know.
Tim Monty smiled. ‘Say hallo to Doctor Marais BURGER van der Westhuizen, son of Doctor Martin van der Westhuizen. He’s a general practitioner in a small town near Halifax in Nova Scotia for the last ten years. Before that he was an intern at the same hospital where Chevron Maart had been endlessly treated for his “eating disorder” as Patsy Semper called it.’
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