style="font-size:15px;"> “Whoever it was that killed him covered their tracks quite well, Mr Roth. There’s no sign of forced entry and no apparent cause of death. Except for one small thing.”
David suspected that one small thing would somehow fill up his life.
“He drowned,” Inspector Govender told him.
David stared at him in disbelief. “He drowned? How does a man in a burning house drown?”
“We were hoping you could tell us that, Mr Roth.”
“Why ask me? I have no idea.”
Govender watched him for a moment. “Whoever it was held him underwater,” the policeman went on. “Repeatedly. Probably trying to get information out of him. The glue and abrasions and ripped hair on his wrists confirm that. Our medical examiner was able to ascertain they tied his hands together with duct tape.” David glanced away, imagining the scene. Peter must have suffered greatly. Attacked. Tied up. Half drowned. Only, whoever was questioning him must have gone too far, held him underwater too long. They must have set fire to the house to get rid of any evidence.
“I’m sorry I have to ask you this, Mr Roth,” Govender said. “Standard questions, you know, but where were you the night before last, around the early hours of four or five in the morning?”
David’s attention was brought abruptly back. He stared at the policeman, speechless. He had been expecting it, but having just heard how Peter died and the accusation the question itself posed was almost too much. He had to physically control himself, force himself not to react. “I was at home,” he told them in as controlled a tone as possible. “Asleep.” Or trying to, he thought through the anger.
“Was anyone with you to corroborate that story?” the inspector asked meaningfully.
He was referring to Kathy, and this time David couldn’t help but frown. “No,”he said firmly. He felt his anger rise but kept it in check. He didn’t mention that last night she had in fact spent the night.
A look came into Inspector Govender’s eyes; it was as if he were weighing David up, as if he had come to an eventual decision. “I did a little digging on you, Mr Roth, about what happened up in Boston in that snowstorm.”
There was an implied question, but David didn’t respond.
“You saved all those people. You’re quite the hero.”
Still David didn’t reply.
“But, apparently, a lot of money went missing,” the inspector drawled.
David glanced at him sharply. “I had nothing to do with that.”
Govender grunted again. “I heard that orphanage up in Harrismith is doing well. They built a new library for the kids.”
“I’m very happy for them,” David replied steadily. “Someone must’ve made a substantial donation.”
Govender smiled. “You mentioned last time that you were delivering equipment to the Umvoti Mill?”
David nodded.
“Where did you get the money to invest in a new business, Mr Roth?”
“I sold my petrol station and garage in Boston. To Phiwe M’Lozi; he was the assistant manager at the time.”
“And how did you get the job in Dalton?”
“A Ms Prinsloo contacted me. She found my details on the internet. I have a website.”
Govender seemed to accept that easily. “You have some good friends on your side, Mr Roth. Everyone I asked vouches for you – the police involved in the Boston incident, the authorities who investigated.”
David didn’t respond.
“But it also seems you’ve got some enemies …”
David looked up sharply.
“Yesterday, you mentioned that Peter Calder removed a document from the Umvoti Mill records. Well, this morning an anonymous caller phoned our offices and told us quite a lot about you, Mr Roth. It seems they knew about your stint in prison as well. They also alluded to your collaborating with Peter Calder in the theft of those documents.”
“What!”
“We contacted the mill about the theft, and their financial manager, a Mr Maritz, confirmed that there were papers missing.” Govender watched him carefully. “How can you explain that, Mr Roth?”
David was barely listening. Someone was accusing him? Of theft?
“In fact,” Govender went on, “Mr Maritz was quite helpful. He tells us his secretary was with Mr Calder the whole time he was packing away their auditing equipment, and that Ms Barnett was in no condition to take any papers as she was ill at the time. He suggests that, if anyone took anything, it was you.”
David tried to stay calm.
“Do you have the document, Mr Roth?”
David was icily firm with his reply. “No.”
“Would you give us permission to search your flat?”
David held his temper in check. “I’ve got nothing to hide.”
Govender looked at him, his head inclined. “I believe you,” he said, sighing heavily. “But I’m afraid we’ll have to search your flat anyway. We have a warrant. May we have the keys?”
David nodded stonily and fetched his flat keys from below.
He handed them to Van Heerden, who glanced at Govender expectantly. Govender turned to David. “Would you like to be present during the search, Mr Roth?”
David shook his head. Van Heerden nodded once and tossed the keys almost casually to the two uniformed policemen waiting on the walk-on.
So that’s what they were here for, David realised. To search his flat, not to arrest him, he hoped.
“Does Ms Barnett know where the missing document is, Mr Roth?”
David was pulled back into the questioning. “Kathy? I don’t know. I don’t think so. Peter didn’t give it to her.”
Govender raised an eyebrow. “You don’t think so, because she told you?”
David looked at him squarely. “No, because I asked her.”
“You asked her? Last night? When you were together?”
David stared at him. He knew. Govender suspected he and Kathy had been together. He didn’t want to tell the inspector she had spent the night; it wasn’t what a gentleman did. Besides, it had nothing to do with Peter Calder’s death. He avoided the question by asking another. “Why are you so interested in this document? Did Mr Maritz say what was on it?”
Govender shook his head. “No, he just said it was important.”
“Important
