Max Annas - The Wall

“It’s been over thirty minutes since he was here. That shouldn’t be a problem, right?” The warrant officer didn’t wait for an answer. “This is Mr. Foster. Money and jewelry are missing. Can we go right inside? Mr. Foster, show us where the burglar was.”

“He was everywhere in the house,” the old man said. As he said this, the slack skin under his jaw quivered. “I’m sure he thought I wouldn’t notice anything. But something was wrong with the lock, and then I saw that the… What is it?”

He looked down at the little dog he was carrying, which was staring at his larger cousin, his fur standing up in tufts. Nkosi hadn’t even deigned to look at the little dog.

“And then?” Bezuidenhout urged. “May we come in?”

“There,” Foster said as he walked into the bedroom. “I immediately noticed that. The doily on the dresser. It wasn’t lined up with the edge.”

“What’s in the dresser?” Bezuidenhout.

“You should ask: What was in the dresser?” Foster.

“Fine. What was inside?”

“Money.”

“How much?”

Foster hesitated for a second. Dlomo could already smell the lie in advance.

“25,000 rand.”

“That’s a lot of money for a dresser.” Bezuidenhout.

“And here, you can see the doily. That’s where it was sitting. My sister brought it back for me from Australia.”

The thing looked like a little rug. Dlomo had no idea why anyone would bring that back as a present.

“So, the burglar was definitely in here?” Bezuidenhout.

“Absolutely.”

The warrant officer turned around. “What does the dog need now?”

“Something that the burglar held. Let’s try that thing on the dresser.” Dlomo picked up the rug and held it out for Nkosi to sniff. “Search,” he said.

The dog sniffed at it for a few seconds and took a step toward Foster.

“Good, Nkosi,” Dlomo said. “Not him.”

The dog snuffled the rug a little more and picked up another scent. He dropped his nose to the floor, found something, and followed the trail. Dlomo let him lead the way. Nkosi entered every room in the house, turned around, caught a secondary trail, hesitated for a moment, and finally stopped at the front door. He barked once.

Now we’re off , Dlomo thought.

“That’s our house,” Flower said. She pointed across the next street. Two stories, burgundy curtains, several windows open. A new compact car parked in front of the garage.

“That’s Mommy’s car?” Moses asked.

“Uh-huh… Come on, we’ll go over there.”

“Wait a minute.”

The two of them were hidden behind a wall over which Flower could just barely see. Moses looked up and down the street. Over toward the exit, he heard a garbage truck—or was it driving on the road that ran outside The Pines? The road leading down to the river was empty. Although… A security vehicle was just turning down the street. It was the bakkie that had tried to run him down. Or it might be a different one identical to the other one. Stay calm , Moses told himself. The most critical thing was to get to safety. And safety was only a few meters away on the other side of the street.

The bakkie slowly drew closer. Moses knelt down and let it drive by. As the sound of the motor died away, he stood up.

“Now!” he said to Flower.

A few seconds later, she rang the doorbell. At first, there was no reaction from inside the house. A window was then shut somewhere. Footsteps. Stairs. Now they were coming closer.

A woman opened the door. Slender face, red glasses, hair smooth to her shoulders. Black t-shirt and jeans. Not stupid. The smile on her lips morphed into a what-the-fuck look when she saw who was standing behind her daughter. For a long time, she didn’t say anything. But just as Moses was about to start his explanation, she rediscovered her voice.

“Get in the house!” she ordered Flower, who turned around and gazed into Moses’ eyes.

She then walked around Mommy, but looked back one last time. “But Moses hasn’t done anything,” she said.

“Go!” Mommy insisted. “Go to your room.” Up the stairs, door open, door closed.

Mommy stood in the middle of the doorframe. She wasn’t especially tall, but she made an intimidating impression on Moses as her eyes bored into his. She slowly placed her hands on her hips.

“I just need help,” Moses said quietly.

“If you ever get close to my daughter again…”

“But…”

“You’re the one everyone’s looking for, right? I know what you did. They’ll catch you. You can bet on that.”

She slammed the door.

“But…” Moses tried once more.

He glanced around. The street was empty, but it wouldn’t be for long. He needed a new plan. Where was Sandi? Had she even come?

A knock over his head. Flower was standing at a second floor window, waving sadly. Moses waved back. He felt just as sad.

Flower spun around suddenly. Mommy must have just come in the room. He had to get out of here.

The garage door shut again. Footsteps heading straight into the room.

“But I took the money out.” High Voice.

“Look one more time.” Deep Voice.

Thembinkosi listened while someone sat down on the bed and opened the suitcase zipper. Rummaged around. Threw things on the floor.

“I told you it’s not in there.” High Voice.

Thembinkosi could see his shadow through the cracks in the wardrobe louvers. High Voice was sitting less than a meter from the door. He tried to hold his breath.

“Then tell me where it is.” Deep Voice was now very quiet.

“I don’t know.” High Voice’s voice grew a little higher.

“I’m not saying you have it, but I’d like to know you’re giving some thought to this. Tell me what you think.”

“How do you mean that?”

For a few moments, Thembinkosi heard nothing. Deep Voice then inhaled and exhaled, loudly and slowly. “Look, I just want to know what happened. What did you do with the money?”

“You know that already. I put it in the kitchen drawer.”

Another pause. Deep Voice was waiting for High Voice to continue. “And?” he finally prodded.

“And?… It’s gone now.” Pause. A long one.

“Explain that.”

“I can’t.”

Outside the sound of cars driving up. Doors slamming.

“Give it a try. Just a little one.”

“Shit,” High Voice said.

“What?”

“Out there. The dog.”

“They’re not here because of us.” Deep Voice’s voice grew even quieter. It sounded menacing.

Silence. Again. Thembinkosi tried to imagine what was going on outside the house. Cars. Sure. A dog? Why?

“Someone was here,” High Voice now said. Silence. Another second and then another. And then another.

Open the wardrobe door, apologize for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. We just want to get out of here, just want to go home. Best of luck with the corpse! And, uh… by the way, here’s the money. No hard feelings. None at all!

Still silence. Deep Voice eventually broke it. “Exactly.”

High Voice leaped up. Some synapse had finally fired. “You think I’m the one behind it!”

“Did I say that?”

“No, but…”

Shit , thought Thembinkosi. If this were a film, they would now be at each other’s throats.

If this were a film, nobody would be standing in the wardrobe. Unbelievable.

“Did you tell anyone about it?”

“You.”

“Anyone else?”

“No, of course not.”

“Who could’ve known then?”

“Nobody.”

“Could someone have suspected? Gwen?”

“How? She hears us plan to murder her mother? We set the trap for her, and Gwen lets us do it and then comes to the house to grab the money out from under us?”