Blindside. Wilna Adriaanse

Blindside - Wilna Adriaanse


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with her.”

      He shook his head. “Why do you sound so angry? It’s not like he had any say in the matter.”

      “I don’t want to be, but I can’t help it. Why was he there at all? He had trained his people well. Why couldn’t he trust them to put up a roadblock?”

      “If it hadn’t been him, it would have been someone else.”

      The thought had crossed her mind, but she had quickly pushed it aside. If she pursued that line of thought, she’d have to offer up someone else’s life in exchange for his, and she knew, if she identified the person by name, she would never be able to look him in the eye again.

      Ahmed sighed. “You’re young. You still need to learn that sometimes you do things you can’t explain, but you know it’s the right decision at the time.”

      Ellie felt the whisky start taking the edge off the day. “Do you like lasagne?”

      He shook his head. “Not particularly.”

      “I was going to ask you to follow me home and take some with you. I wonder why everyone thinks of lasagne as comfort food.”

      Before she could continue, she felt someone kiss her neck. She didn’t turn around.

      “Sorry, babes, I couldn’t get away sooner. There was some trouble. Afternoon, Brigadier.”

      “Greyling.”

      Albert put his arm around Ellie’s shoulders and kissed her cheek. “I’m genuinely sorry. I tried …”

      “Hey, Greyling …” someone called from the bar before he could say anything more.

      “Yo, my bro, pass something along, man. I’m dying of thirst here,” he called back over her head.

      “Mac, leave the guy so he can come and have a drink with us.”

      Ellie motioned with her head. “Go.”

      He gave her a wide-eyed grin. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise. Can I bring you something? Brigadier, a refill?”

      “I must go.”

      “Babes?”

      Ellie shook her head. “I must get home too, before my mom kicks Vera and her husband out.”

      “Will I see you tonight?”

      “I don’t think so. We’ll talk later.”

      He put his hands on either side of her face and kissed her lips. “I’d really like to see you.”

      She and Ahmed walked out together. It was slow going – everyone wanted to say goodbye. Clive touched her shoulder in passing. Joe came out from behind the counter and hugged her briefly.

      “Hang in there, my girl. It will get better, but it’s going to be pretty crap for a while.”

      “Thanks. It helps to know what to expect.” She motioned with her hand. “Thanks for this. I’m sure he’s smiling, wherever he is.”

      “It’s a pleasure. I’ll miss the old bastard.”

      “Don’t let these drunk arses drive, and kick them out just now. Tomorrow their wives will be complaining to me,” Ahmed said as he shook Joe’s hand.

      “I will, Brigadier.”

      Outside, the shadows were getting long and only the tallest buildings still caught the sun’s last rays. Ahmed walked her to her car in silence.

      She unlocked the door, but didn’t get in.

      “Brigadier …”

      He held up his hand. “Before you say anything, hear me out. I want you to know I understand how you feel. I would’ve felt the same if I were in your shoes, but I can’t allow you to take me on in front of everyone. Firstly, you’re forcing my hand and, secondly, I don’t want to fight with you about your dad. I was very fond of that man and I’m very sad about his death. What makes it worse is that you don’t seem to trust me. I’ll do whatever I can to find out who’s responsible.”

      “That’s not what I said. I just want to help. I know how many cases are piled on everyone’s desks. It’s not going well on our side at the moment. With the big boss suspended and more people under suspicion, the rest of us are working around the clock. I just want to make sure you get the information you need.”

      “I promise if I suspect anyone of hampering our investigation, I’ll tell you straight away. In the meantime I don’t want you any­where near the case. I’ve got an experienced team working on it and I have complete faith that they’ll come up with an answer soon.”

      “Thank you.”

      “I still think it would be a good idea to take a day or two’s leave.”

      “It won’t make anything better.”

      “I’m sure your mom needs you.”

      “She might need something, but it’s not me.”

      “I’m just saying … get your act together before you go back.”

      She frowned. “I hear there was a shooting at Alexei Barkov’s house. Brigadier Zondi is on the warpath. Apparently fingers are already being pointed. They’re quick to say our intelligence should have been better.”

      “By this time you should know fingers will always be pointed. No one wants to catch a ball of shit like that. But we can talk about this later. Tonight’s not the night.”

      He stood next to her car while she got in. “Look after yourself, and your mom.”

      She switched on the engine, but didn’t pull away immediately. “I don’t want to find out who shot my dad in the papers.” What she really wanted to ask him was whether he thought it could have had something to do with her, but she couldn’t find the words. And she suspected she didn’t want to hear the answer.

      He put his hand on the window frame. “I can’t make any promises.”

      She looked in the rearview mirror as she drove away and saw him standing motionless for a moment. There had been a lot of gossip when he was appointed her father’s senior and many of her dad’s colleagues had muttered about political quotas and affirmative action. But amid all the grumbling, John McKenna had put out his hand to congratulate Ahmed and assured him of his loyalty. It was the beginning of a unique and very successful relationship. Not that they had always seen eye to eye – for that, they’d been too alike – but they’d had great respect for each other.

      She put the radio on. When she heard the first sounds from her playlist she rolled down the window and turned up the volume.

      “Gonna close my eyes, girl, and watch you go,” she sang along with David Gray. “Send a little prayer out to ya, ’cross the falling dark.”

      At a red traffic light a woman stared at her and for a moment Ellie wanted to stick out her tongue. The woman looked ahead again and Ellie wondered where she was going with her cranky face. Heaven forbid she was on her way to a husband and kids.

      The lights changed. When she turned from Durban Road onto the N1 heading into the city, she put her foot down. The wind plucked at her hair through the open window, blew the words of the song away. Tell the repo man … you’re the one I love.

      “I hate you, John McKenna!” she shouted into the wind. She took a deep breath to ease the painful muscles in her throat. She accelerated some more and did not slow down before she reached the Goodwood off-ramp. She had just turned into Giel Basson Drive when her cellphone started ringing. When she saw it was her mother she considered not answering.

      “I’m nearly home, Mom.”

      “Vera wants to go, but they don’t want to leave me alone. You’d swear I was a criminal.”

      “I’ll only be a few minutes.” She ended


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