The Clearing Read Online Free PDF Page A

heartbreaking story that Smiley was telling.
    Â 
    Smiley peeled the label off the Heineken and laid it with the others. The sun had set now, and the two men were alone at the rickety table at Bozu – save for the impressive collection of moths that swarmed the naked bulb above the sign. It was a warm night, but a breeze gently fanned the coconut trees and their fronds rustled in approval.
    Smiley went on. “Now, De Villiers are a prominent family on de island. Always have been. But when dat boy died, their family... well, dey lost two. His mother, Collette De Villiers, she never recovered from it. She blamed her brother-in-law, Vincent, who owned de plantation at de time.”
    â€œYou mean Ti Fenwe Estate?”
    â€œYes, Ti Fenwe. It still in de family today. Anyway, she nearly tore de place apart for de time it took to find de body. She had great influence at de CID...”
    â€œCID?” asked Nate.
    â€œDe Criminal Investigation Division. De task force within de police department responsible for dis kind of investigation.”
    Nate nodded, and something in his memory squirmed.
    â€œAnyway, Mrs De Villiers had most of de police force up dere day and night, combing through de rainforest, looking. And eventually dey found him, or at least what was lef’ of him. Two weeks will almost completely destroy a body in de tropics – never mind de animals and... de other things,” he said, trailing off.
    Nate picked up on Smiley’s minor departure from the story. He was about to ask of these other things , but Smiley began to speak again.
    â€œWhen de CID found de remains, Mrs De Villiers insisted on coming out to Ti Fenwe, and it was in de middle of de night, too, but she was determined to see her son. De constables tried to stop her, I mean, dat body in a very advanced state of decomposition, and had been, well, partially... consumed. But don’t no one say no to a De Villiers.
    â€œAnd so Mrs De Villiers go and see her son, or what was lef’ of him, and me think she simply could not bear it. She’d been looking for dat boy all dis time, her little boy with blonde hair – and what she found was a nightmare.” Smiley shook his head in reflection, and then tipped the bottle to his lips.
    Behind him, dotted on the hillside, lights began to flicker to life in the small houses made of wood and tin. “In her grief she apparently swore she would take revenge if she found someone had caused her little boy’s death. Here,” he said, pulling a photocopy from the document pile on the table and passing it to Nate. It was a copy of the front page of The Voice from 1976, with the bold headline: I Will Take a Life in Payment . Beneath it was a small, grainy picture of Collette De Villiers. It was a posed shot from another time, and in it she was calm and composed. The picture seemed to jar with the headline.
    Nate was transfixed by the words. I Will Take a Life in Payment ; it felt like Collette was speaking out directly to him across the years. Finally he placed the sheet down, gently brushing his hand against his hip, as if to dislodge something unwelcome that had stuck there.
    Smiley hooked a finger into his collar and tugged at it, then went on. “Dey sedated her, took her back to Castries and she was hospitalised dat night. After dat she was jus’ plain inconsolable. According to their housekeeper’s daughters from back den, Mrs De Villiers began walking de house in a constant state of panic, calling out for Richard. Dis went on for days, weeks. In de end de family flew her out to de US, to some clinic where she dun stayed for ʼbout a month. When she come back, dey said she was a ghost. She would never speak. Never cry. Barely eat. She was like a... what was it dem said? She was like a blank page.”
    â€œAnd the rest of the family?” Nate asked.
    â€œDey took it hard, too. And dere was a bad patch for dem after dat. Dey were caught up in