Present Darkness Read Online Free PDF Page A

skin instead of white.
    He turned and walked away. Lieutenant Mason followed him onto the moonlit path with an enigmatic expression on his face. Emmanuel remained quiet. One word would betray his building fury and then Mason would know beyond a doubt that his reaction to the constable’s attitude was personal.
    “You speak kaffir,” Mason said when they reached the house.
    “Some,” Emmanuel replied. He did not advertise the fact he spoke fluent Zulu and Afrikaans and a now a smattering of Shangaan, thanks to spending time with Detective Constable Samuel Shabalala.
    “Stay here with the foot police and the injured native,” Mason said. “If he comes around, make a note of anything he says that might explain how two schoolboys made this mess. The Police Commissioner’s going to need proof to back up the Brewer girl’s statement. Negus and I will bring the boys in for questioning.”
    “I’ll stop by the station afterwards,” Emmanuel said. Keeping track of the evidence against Aaron and Nkhato was paramount. What he’d do with the information once he had it, he did not know.
    “Paid overtime hasn’t been approved on this case yet, so if it’s a few extra pounds you’re angling for then go home and get a good night’s sleep.”
    “I work till the work is done,” Emmanuel said. Mason operated undercover for months at a stretch, living and breathing the job twenty-four hours a day. In Mason’s world, real policemen worked for love of the job.
    Dryer stepped out of the back door and jerked a thumb in the direction of the kitchen. “Police secretary is here, Lieutenant.”
    “Cooper’s already got what we need. Let the secretary hold the girl’s hand for a while and then send her home to Benoni. The next-door neighbour Mrs Lauda has agreed to take Cassie in till her aunt gets here tomorrow from north of Pretoria. Cooper, you’ll walk her over when the time comes.”
    “Of course.” There were good reasons for leaving him in charge of the primary crime scene and of Cassie, the star witness; the foremost being Dryer’s idiocy. The less obvious reason was that Mason did not trust him.
    The Lieutenant disappeared inside the house.
    “Typical, hey?” Dryer spoke once the back door had closed. “Mason and Negus get the good jobs while we take care of a beaten up kaffir and a girl.”
    “Any word on the native ambulance?” Emmanuel asked.
    “The switchboard logged the call but it’ll be a while. The hospital vans are attending a bus crash out near Tembisa.”
    “It could be dawn before they get here.” A bus accident took priority over a single black man bleeding out in a white suburb miles from the hospital.
    “How bad is the kaffir?” Dryer asked.
    “Bad,” Emmanuel said.
    “Shit luck for him.” The Afrikaner detective yawned and looked up at the full moon. An injured native counted for little. Cassie Brewer’s witness statement meant his holiday plans were all but assured—the perpetrators were practically in custody already. In a week’s time he’d be floating in the Indian Ocean and drinking a cold beer while fish nibbled at his toes.
    If Aaron Shabalala had instead been just some random black boy accused of robbery and assault, Emmanuel acknowledged that he might feel the same sense of relief at the easy “case closed”.
    “I’ll check in with the police secretary.” He took the stairs and opened the kitchen door. A path had been swept through the debris and the rice and flour had been wiped from the tabletop. An older white woman with a helmet of blue-rinsed hair and a pursed mouth painted a violent shade of fuchsia combed a brush through Cassie’s frizzy hair. Dressed in a grey wool twinset with a matching skirt and a single strand of pearls at her neck, the police secretary personified the government template of a European woman.
    Cassie gave Emmanuel a quick glance and turned her face away.
    “Shh … it’s okay,” the police secretary soothed. “I’ll take care of you,