Random Violence Read Online Free PDF Page A

its runners.
    “The motor still isn’t working,” he said. “The bastards tried to steal it, you know. The day before she died. They broke it, although they didn’t take it. If that motor had been working, she might still be alive. She wouldn’t have had to get out of her car to open it.”
    Jade shook Piet’s hand, looking at him curiously. He was wearing a tattered jersey, a pair of jeans with old paint stains in all colors of the rainbow, and green socks under sandals with Velcro straps. His wiry gray hair was tied back in a ponytail and his face was deeply tanned. His eyes were a watery blue. For his size, his hands were surprisingly large and their grip firm.
    “Thank you for coming, Jade.”
    “I’m so sorry for your loss,” she said. “Whatever I can do to help, I will.”
    He opened the door of the house and she followed him in.
    “I’m finishing the packing. She’d already started to sort everything out. Her things. Her brother’s old stuff. She was going to move to Cape Town next month.”
    He turned and swung the security gate shut. Jade looked around the cottage’s interior.
    She saw a framed photo of Piet smiling proudly with his arm around a woman who she supposed must be Annette. The photo must have been taken a while ago, because Piet’s hair was brown not gray, and there was a lot more of it on his head. Jade was surprised by how striking Annette had been. Flawless bone structure, icy blue eyes, platinum hair. She could see how the woman had attracted Piet’s artistic eye.
    There were two golf trophies next to the photo. Silver, shiny and sparkling clean. The name engraved under the trophies was Adrian Muller. Who was Adrian? She’d have to ask Piet.
    A newspaper lay on the coffee table, open at page three. “Artist Devastated by Family Tragedy,” the headline screamed. Jade scanned the story. According to the writer, Annette’s murder was brutal, senseless and typical of the new South Africa. Piet had been quoted as saying, “The police have done nothing so far. They haven’t brought my ex-wife’s killer to justice.”
    She could see why David needed her help.
    Next to the newspaper was a scattered pile of Piet’s business cards. Ready to hand out to more reporters, she supposed.
    He sat down opposite her and pushed his tough, gnarled fingers together.
    “So you’re a detective?”
    “Yes. A private investigator.”
    Piet’s knuckles shone in patchy red and white.
    “Those bastards took her away from me. Annette was my life. She was all I had.” He was silent for a while. Jade listened to the rhythmic tick of the clock on the wall. “We were going to be together again. That’s why she was moving. So we could give it another chance.” He unlaced his fingers and pulled at a rip in his jeans. His gaze strayed to the photo and back.
    “You’re lucky to have Superintendent Patel in charge of the case. He’s one of the leading investigators in this province.”
    Piet continued as if he hadn’t heard her. “Annette’s brother Adrian was killed a few years ago.” Jade glanced at the golf trophies on the wall unit. “Stabbed while he was withdrawing money from an ATM. They never caught the guys. I saw what that did to her. He was the last family she had, and she never saw his killers brought to justice.” He stared at the photo, jaw working, eyes watering.
    Jade wondered just how upset he was. He had an unbreak-able alibi. But had he planned the crime? She had assisted with a case where the victim’s wife had been openly trau-matized after her husband was shot during a botched bank robbery. The heartfelt eulogy she had given at his graveside had reduced friends and family to tears. A couple of weeks later, she’d been convicted for organizing his murder. Spouses were top of the list of murder suspects. You just never knew.
    She leaned forward and spoke gently. “This property was sold recently. I saw the sign outside.”
    Piet nodded. “She put it up for sale when she