Endgame. Wilna Adriaanse
I’m going to tell them. They were three and one when he left. They don’t know him any more.”
“I thought you took them to see him?”
“In the beginning, yes, but the older they got, the harder it became. Jesus, Nick, it’s awful to take kids to see their dad in jail. They started asking questions. And with the move to Cape Town it got difficult. I couldn’t afford air tickets every three months.”
“I understand, but you could have asked me, even if it wasn’t every time.”
“I did what I thought was best for the children.”
“It’s not as if he killed anyone.”
“It doesn’t matter. Prison is prison. No place for children. I didn’t want them to go to school with that kind of baggage.”
“Riana, they’re his kids. He has a right to see them.”
He heard her grunt. “I don’t know if you’re the one who should be lecturing me. If it weren’t for you …”
He sighed. They’d been down this road a few times before. “If you want me to apologise, or ask forgiveness, I’ll do it, but it won’t change anything.”
“Can I ask you something … if you had to make that decision again today, would you do the same thing?”
Nick wished he hadn’t phoned. “I can give you the easy answer and say, yes, I’d do it again, but it’s not that simple. I don’t know what I’d do today. If I’d known he wasn’t going to see his children, I might have decided differently. I don’t know.”
“Do you know I divorced him?”
“When?”
“Last year.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“At first, because I knew you’d try to convince me not to. And then it no longer mattered. We make our own choices.”
Nick closed his eyes and massaged his neck muscles.
“If he contacts you, please tell him I’d like to see him. I haven’t been able to visit in a long time.”
“I’ll tell him. He’ll have to come here at some point. All his personal stuff is still here and we’ll probably have to divide up the furniture. I can’t expect him to walk out with nothing.”
Nick wanted to say, “Fuck the furniture, give the man his kids back,” but his words seemed to have dried up.
“Well, all the best, then.”
“Thanks, to you too. By the way, where are you?”
“In Cape Town.”
“Are you still in the service?”
“Yes.”
“Maybe you should get out. The job doesn’t come with a built-in trip switch. At one time or another there’ll be a short and everything will be blown to hell. Get out while you still know more or less who you are.”
“I may take your advice.”
“Are you seeing anyone at the moment?”
“No, I don’t have time right now.”
“Nick … have you kept your hands clean all these years, or are you just smarter?”
Nick wished he had bought more painkillers. The four he had taken seemed to have made his headache worse.
“Riana, let’s talk about that another day. I don’t have time today. Besides, we’ll probably have to define what you mean by ‘clean’.”
“Why do you think he didn’t try to involve you at the time?”
“I don’t know. You’ll have to ask him. Sorry, I have to run.”
They said goodbye and Nick started the engine and pulled away. Then he stopped. He drained the bottle of water before he drove on.
He and Nols Kellerman had met during their first week of training. It was one of those easy friendships. They got each other’s humour. They were each other’s best men. Party buddies. Always got the other one home safely when they had partied hard.
Nols had gone to court with him the day of his first divorce. Seen to it that he ate afterwards, and spent the rest of the day with him on the balcony of Nick’s new bachelor flat while they tried to make sense of life over their brandy glasses.
The first time Nick suspected something was wrong was during the investigation of a car theft syndicate. At most, it was a feeling of unease. Few things make you as blind as the desire not to see. The second time, he lay awake all night, deliberating. The next morning, he asked Nols if everything was okay. People think friendship opens all doors, but that’s not true. Some questions are much easier to ask a stranger than your best friend. Like: “Did you accept money to make a docket disappear?” It didn’t matter how many drinks he’d had, he just couldn’t ask Nols that question.
The third time it happened he lost so much sleep that he no longer trusted his own judgement. For nights on end he tried to find holes in his theory. Then he took the easy way out and went to the chief. Let someone else figure it out. The next morning Nols was temporarily suspended, and an investigation was launched. Unfortunately Nols hadn’t covered his tracks. Within two weeks it was over and Nols had been found guilty.
The first time Nick had gone to visit him in prison he’d been furious.
“We’re talking about fucking cars, you know. The insurance companies pay out anyway. Do you think those are the only cars those rich buggers own? It’s not as if anyone was ever killed. What do you take me for?”
Nick had let him talk.
“You’re not a friend’s arse. Why didn’t you come to me first? Why didn’t you warn me? Isn’t that what mates do?”
Nick had felt it grow quiet inside his head. The words he had come with had dried up. Nothing he could say would make it better.
“You don’t know what it costs to raise two kids.”
Nick had shaken his head. Listened to the outburst a while longer and tried his best not to look visibly relieved when visiting hours were over.
He’d gone to see Nols a few more times. A light seemed to have dimmed inside his friend. The second time Nick had gone, Nols had still been angry, but the intensity had no longer been there. The third time he’d been quiet, answering or reacting only sporadically. The last two times he hadn’t spoken at all. Neither had he looked at Nick.
Riana had asked why Nick hadn’t crossed the line himself. What the rest of the population doesn’t realise is that the lines are different. They want to see results and they want to believe that the police are honest, but what they don’t know is that the two things don’t always go together. Or they prefer not to know.
People often asked him why he had decided to become a cop. He realised that everyone had their own reasons. Some were plausible, others almost laughably naive. He had never laughed at anyone’s reason, because his own probably demonstrated the worst degree of naivety. He imagined that a boy who grows up without a father tries for the rest of his life to become his own hero. The problem is that he doesn’t really know what heroism should look or feel like, so one day he realises he’s like a dog chasing its own tail. But he keeps on. Perhaps in the hope that, one day, he’ll see something in someone else’s eyes that he himself can’t see.
Nols had grown up with a father.
CHAPTER 5
Ellie was sitting on a bench in the Company’s Garden, staring at her cellphone. She dialled the number before she could get cold feet.
“Greyling.”
“It’s me.”
“Babes!