“Undress.”
I hesitate. I do not take off my clothes in front of other people.
“Get a move on, it’s late, I want to go home.”
She picks up my clothes from the floor, places them in a bag. My tackies too. Underwear. Gives everything to someone outside the door.
I’m standing naked in front of this strange woman, trying to cover my private parts as best I can.
She rolls her eyes. “Oh, please, do you really think I haven’t seen that before?”
I stare at the floor, hear the slap of the latex gloves as she slips them on. Struggle to hold back the tears of humiliation while the stranger’s cold hands probe me. In my mouth, my ears, my nose, my vagina, my anus.
“Get dressed,” the redhead says as she drops the gloves into a refuse bin.
I stand uncertainly with her panties in my hand.
“They’re clean.”
I nod. Nevertheless. “I’d prefer not to wear them, thanks,” I whisper.
She just shrugs. “Your loss.”
The tracksuit pants are hopelessly too long. T-shirt and socks, no shoes.
The redhead opens the door. “Do you want to phone your lawyer?” she asks in the passage.
I shake my head. I want to phone nobody.
“Come on, then. Supe Webber is waiting.”
He is in the same office as before, but not alone this time. Opposite him sits a man with dark hair whose dark eyes are fixed questioningly on me. I hesitate.
The stranger stands up. I have to look up at him.
“I am Joubert van Heerden. I am a lawyer.”
When I remain silent, he adds: “I am your lawyer.”
“I don’t want a lawyer.”
“Miss Bruwer,” the superintendent interrupts, “you need a lawyer.”
“No. I don’t want one. I have committed a murder, I admit guilt. I do not need a lawyer.”
The strange man nods. “Very well, Anna. May I then sit here while Superintendent Webber questions you?”
“Who are you?”
“Joubert van Heerden.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Uncle Retief Roodt phoned me.”
“Uncle Retief! How does he know . . . ?”
“Your mother told him.”
My mother.
I nod. He can stay.
He turns to the superintendent. “Could I have a few moments to consult with my client?”
Webber stands up, gestures towards the other chair in front of the desk. “I’ll wait outside.”
Joubert van Heerden leans over to me. “Anna, I’m here to help.”
I shake my head. “It’s too late for that. I don’t think anyone can help me any longer.”
He sighs. “But I can try. Allow me to try?”
His dark eyes are not friendly, also not hostile. His large frame projects a sense of calm. Uncle Retief sent him to me.
“Okay then.”
“Why did you shoot Danie du Toit?”
I look down at my hands. “Because he deserved it.”
“Tell me.”
I cover my face with my hands, shake my head.
He places a hand briefly on my shoulder. “We can talk about this some more later.”
He stands up and opens the door for the superintendent.
Bulldog takes the dictaphone from the top drawer of his desk. He deliberately does this very slowly, so that he has a chance to bring his emotions under control. She is wearing clean clothes, the blood on her hands and body has been removed. Yet the metallic smell pervades the office.
Once he has laid out everything in front of him, he clears his throat and switches on the machine. Loudly and clearly he states the date, the case number, his rank and name. “Also present is the accused’s legal representative, Mr Joubert van Heerden.”
He looks at Anna. “Name?”
“Anna Bruwer.”
“You will have to speak more clearly.”
His words come out more harshly than he intended, he sees how she shrinks back. He shifts the dictaphone closer to her and asks her to repeat her name. Then he sits back comfortably and folds his fingers together.
“Miss Bruwer, did you aim a firearm at Danie du Toit?”
She nods.
“You have to answer the questions, the machine can’t see.”
“Yes.”
“Louder, Miss Bruwer. Did you do this on 9 February 2004?”
“Yes.”
“Did you do this in the morning?”
“Yes.”
“Was the firearm a 9-millimetre pistol?”
“Yes.”
“Did you murder him with the firearm?”
“Yes.”
“Did you intend to murder him?”
She hesitates a moment. “I don’t know.”
“Why then did you pull the trigger?”
“Because I had to.”
For the moment he leaves it at that. “Do you live in Knysna?”
“Yes.”
“Did you drive here in your car?”
“Yes.”
“How long have you been in Bloemfontein?”
“I arrived here this morning. I am very tired, Superintendent. Can’t I please get some sleep?”
“You can sleep later.”
