Free Thirteen Hours by Deon Meyer Page A

the
scene ...'
    'She could have hired someone.'
    Griessel had to concede that that argument had merit. Women
hiring others to get rid of their husbands was the latest national sport. But
he shook his head. 'I doubt it. You don't hire people to make it look like you
did it.'
    'Anything is possible in this country,' said Dekker.
    'Amen,' said Pagel.
    'Prof, the "sea of troubles"... Did you know
Barnard?' Griessel asked.
    'A little, Nikita. Mostly hearsay.'
    'What's his story?' asked Dekker.
    'Music,' said Pagel. 'And women.'
    'That's what his wife says too,' said Griessel.
    'As if she hasn't suffered enough,' said Pagel.
    'What do you mean, Prof?' Dekker asked.
    'You know she was a huge star?'
    'No, really?' Stunned.
    Pagel didn't look up while he spoke. His hands were deftly
handling instruments and the body. 'Barnard "discovered" her, though
I have never been very comfortable with that expression. But let me confess my
ignorance, gentlemen. As you know, my real love is the classics. I know he was
a lawyer who became involved with the pop music industry. Xandra was his first
star ...'
    'Xandra?'
    'That was her stage name,' said Griessel.
    'She was a singer?'
    'Indeed. A very good one too,' said Pagel.
    'How long ago was this, Prof?'
    'Fifteen, twenty years?'
    'Never heard of her.' Dekker shook his head.
    'She disappeared off the scene. Rather suddenly.'
    'She caught him with someone else,' said Griessel. 'That's when
she started drinking.' 'That was the rumour. Gentlemen, unofficially and
unconfirmed: I estimate the time of death at ...' Pagel checked his watch. '...
between two and three this morning. As you have surely deduced, the cause of
death is two shots by a small-calibre firearm. The position of the wounds and
small amount of propellant residue indicates a shooting distance of two to four
metres ... and a reasonably good shot: the wounds are less than three
centimetres apart.'
    'And he wasn't shot here,' said Dekker.
    'Indeed.'
    'Only two wounds?' asked Griessel.
    The pathologist nodded.
    'There were three rounds fired by his pistol...'
    'Prof,' said Dekker, 'let's say she is an alcoholic. Say she
was drunk last night. I had blood drawn, but will it help, eight or ten hours
after the fact?'
    'Ah, Fransman, nowadays we have ethyl glucuronide. It can
track the residue of alcohol levels up to thirty-six hours afterwards. With a
urine sample up to five days after intake.'
    Dekker nodded, satisfied.
    'How so, Prof?'
    'Look at him, Fransman. He must be about one point nine
metres tall. He's a little overweight; I estimate on the wrong side of a
hundred and ten kilograms. You and I would battle to get his body up those
stairs - and we are sober.' Pagel began to pack away his apparatus. 'Let's get
him
    'But I must throw my weight behind Nikita's theory. I don't
believe it was her.'
     to the mortuary; I can't do much more.'
    'Somebody went to a lot of trouble to get him here,' said
Dekker.
    'And therein lies the rub,' said Pagel.
    'Women ...' Dekker speculated.
    Pagel stood up. 'Don't write off the Afrikaans music industry
as a potential source of conflict, Fransman.'
    'Prof?'
    'Do you follow the popular press, Fransman?'
    Dekker shrugged.
    'Ah, the life of the law enforcer - all work and no time to
read the Sunday papers. There's money in the Afrikaans music industry,
Fransman. Big money. But that's just the ears of the hippo, the tip of the
iceberg. The intrigues are legion. Scandals like divorce, sexual harassment,
paedophilia ... More long knives and apparent back-stabbing than in Julius Caesar. They fight over everything - back
tracks, contracts, artistic credits, royalties, who is permitted to make a
musical about which historical personality, who deserves what place in musical
history ...'
    'But why, Prof?' Griessel asked, deeply disappointed.
    'People are people, Nikita. If there is wealth and fame at
stake ... It's the usual game: cliques and camps, big egos, artistic
temperaments, sensitive feelings, hate, jealousy,