Police Chief Officer Koekemoer
Koekemoer was a little overweight. He blamed it on the whisky - he had three a night, he thought. He was of usual height and had short, cropped, dark hair.
“I think that there was another person involved,” said the chief officer.
Sergeant Pienaar was an entirely different story. He used as many swear words as he could fit into sentences.
“Damn, I’ve found out that lawyer Thomson has got more effing evidence to clear Retief. Fuck it. But, shit, I wonder what it is?”
Koekemoer explained further: “I saw someone suspicious at the murder scene. It was a white man - the husband of the victim. He’s aged about 30ish… fair hair, with a slight build. He goes by the name James Roderick.”
Sergeant Pienaar stated the obvious: “Hell. We need to investigate Mr Roderick. Fuck, but, I wish I knew what that shitting evidence was.”
Koekemoer looked at Pienaar. “I know how we’ll find out. My daughter works with Thomson. I bet she can tell me.”