The journey from the Adermann house on Bülow Street to the library on Ring Street was short, even for the modest proportions of Lüderitz. A pair of fluffy dice, red with white polka dots, dangled from the rear–view mirror of Frans’ rusting yellow Toyota. Even they smelled strongly of cigarette smoke.
“It’s great having you guys back in town after all these years,” Frans said with boyish excitement as he caressed the car along at a walking pace.
Dieter stared out of the grimy window at the enveloping greyness that reached down to touch the rivers of sand flowing into every crevice in the barren little town. “Yeah.”
“You know, I retire in a few months.”
Dieter’s eyes wandered across Frans’ profile. Yes, he thought, imminent retirement would fit with Frans’ bloated and weathered appearance. He didn’t imagine that being a policeman in a small, close community like Lüderitz would be very onerous, but living in this extreme climate could take its toll on a man.
“This will probably be my last case,” Frans mused with a little smile.
“Get many dead bodies around here?”
Frans shook his head wistfully. “Not exactly.”
Dieter hesitated as he thought back to Frans’ remarks about Inez and her grave. “Who was Inez?” he asked.
“Inez?” Frans repeated, frowning deeply.
“Yes, you mentioned her back at the house.”
Frans stared at Dieter with a puzzled look in his divergent eyes, for so long that the car began to veer towards the sand–smothered kerb.
“Your sister? Inez?”
Dieter felt a shiver. “I only have one sister: Ingrid.”
“Now, yes. Inez died a long time ago; you were very young then. It was tragic, she was such a beautiful woman.” Frans shook his head and sighed deeply. “She’s buried just outside town.”
Dieter felt a pang of sweaty nausea, his bladder dragging in his pelvis as though he was guilty of something. Was he guilty of something, he wondered, thinking about the dream that haunted him? He stared out of the window, stroking his puckered lips with an index finger.
After a few moments of this unexpected silence the car stopped and Dieter became aware of Frans’ eyes staring at him.
“We’re here, Dieter – the library.”
“Oh… er… thanks.” Dieter fumbled with the door. “Where is the cemetery?” he asked, turning to face Frans.
“You really didn’t know about Inez?”
Dieter raised his eyebrows and shook his head slowly.
“It’s not far, along Bay Road heading south. Do you want me to take you there?”
“Maybe later,” Dieter said, pushing the protesting door open.
“I admire your ma, Dieter, and Ingrid as well,” Frans said.
“Why?”
“Your ma was that sort of woman, kind and thoughtful but strong too, always putting her children first. I mean, that she would protect you from all that pain, just carrying it herself all these years… you know, bearing the burden. Ingrid too.”
Dieter contemplated Frans’ words as he stood beside the car, smelling the ripeness of the South Atlantic.
“Thank you for the lift, Frans.”