‘Do you have family in Cape Town?’ asked Jessie.
‘In the Eastern Cape,’ said Grace. ‘I am going there for Lawrence’s funeral. But I want to go to secretary training college in Cape Town. I have a friend there.’
‘You were working in Martine, Mrs van Schalkwyk’s house?’ I said.
‘Yes. Twice a week. Wednesdays and Fridays.’
‘So you weren’t here on the Tuesday, when she . . . ’ I said.
‘No. Monday, Tuesday and Thursday I work for Mr Marius in town.’
‘What did you think of Mrs van Schalkwyk?’ Jessie asked.
‘I liked her. It was a very bad thing that happened. She was a good woman. I was happy to work for her. I wish I could work for only her, and not . . . ’
Jessie raised an eyebrow, but Grace did not say more.
‘Is the work too hard at Mr Marius?’ I asked.
‘I am not afraid of hard work,’ Grace said. ‘No. He’s just, you know . . . ’
She stroked her hands across her skirt.
‘Does he harass you?’ said Jessie.
‘He looks at me in a way I do not like. He is not a good man. Mrs van Schalkwyk also does not like him. Did not like him.’
‘How do you know?’
‘Maybe two weeks ago, he said he wanted to see the Van Schalkwyks and he drove me home at the end of the day. He knocked on the door. Mr van Schalkwyk was not home from work yet, and Mrs van Schalkwyk told him to voetsek. She closed the door in his face. He was not happy. He drove over the roses next to the road. Lawrence’s roses.’
‘What did he want?’ Jessie asked.
‘I don’t know,’ Grace said. ‘I was walking to my house. I could not hear everything.’
‘What kind of a car does he drive?’ I said.
‘A big white one, like Mr van Schalkwyk’s. There’s writing on one side: Karoo Real Estate.’
‘An estate agent?’ said Jessie.
I nodded. He was one of the advertisers in the Karoo Gazette – the one who gave Hattie a headache.
‘Yes. There are pictures at the office in his house. Houses. Veld. And photographs taken from the sky.’
‘Did Martine have other visitors?’ Jessie asked.
‘Her friend Anna did visit. They laughed together. It was nice. That husband of hers did not make her laugh.’
‘Did he hit her?’
‘I did not see him, but I saw the bruises.’ She shook her head. ‘The broken things in the rubbish.’
‘Any other visitors?’ said Jessie.
‘A man came round. Maybe a month ago. When his tea was finished she said he must go. Her husband wouldn’t like him there, she said. He came round once more, on a Friday, but she is at work on that day, so he went away.’
‘Do you know who the man is?’ said Jessie.
‘John. I have seen him in town some mornings. He sells farm things from a wooden table. Eggs, vegetables, plants.’
‘At the market?’ I asked.
Grace nodded.
‘What did Martine speak about with him?’ Jessie said.
‘I do not know. I don’t listen.’
I looked down at the last vetkoek and asked, ‘Nothing else you heard, by mistake maybe?’
‘I was cleaning the room next door. She said the old days were over. Then he was talking about frucking. He was cross, I think.’
‘Frucking?’ said Jessie.
Grace bit her lower lip, and looked down at her fingernails.
I helped her out with a different question:
‘If Mrs van Schalkwyk wiped a table, would she wipe just half of it clean?’
‘Oh, no!’ she said. ‘She is not that kind of person. She is like me. She would never do that.’
‘Have the police come to interview you?’ I asked.
‘I spoke to them that night, the night Lawrence— But I heard nothing. Just the thunder and the rain. I did not wake up when Lawrence got up. I don’t know why I woke up, but when I did, I waited. I waited and he did not come back. I called and then I went to look for him.’ She rubbed her hands down the side of her arms. ‘I told the police there is no one who wants to kill Lawrence. He was a good man. He was just doing his job.’
‘I am sorry,’ I said. ‘We think maybe the same person killed him and Martine.’
‘I am afraid to stay here. I want to go. But I have not got enough money. I must ask Mr van Schalkwyk and Mr Marius for help.’
‘Did Lawrence work here every day?’ Jessie asked.
‘Yes. It used to be a sheep farm here, but they stopped that long ago, before I got here. They sold a lot of land and a lot of workers did lose their jobs. But they kept Lawrence, to look after the place. The garden, the fruit trees. He is good at his job.’
‘The day of Martine’s murder, was Lawrence here?’
‘Yes. The police asked him about that day. I was here when they were talking to him.’
‘What did he tell them?’
‘He told them he saw Mr van Schalkwyk come home that morning. He waved to him but the meneer didn’t wave back. The police asked if he was sure it was him, and he said yes.’
Jessie leaned forward in her armchair as Grace continued to speak.
‘They asked if he was close by, and he said no, he was down at the bottom by the trees.’ Grace waved her hand towards the window. ‘He was clearing the dead branches and chopping wood. Then they said, so how could you be sure? They told him that Mr van Schalkwyk said he did not leave work. The workers at the Agri said he was there all morning. Lawrence said, maybe, he was not sure, but it was Mr van Schalkwyk’s car. They said, are you sure it was his car, or could it have been the same kind of car as his? Lawrence said it looked like the meneer’s car, but maybe it wasn’t.’
Grace rubbed the fingers of one hand over the knuckles of another. I nodded and she carried on talking.
‘When the police had gone I asked him if it really was Mr van Schalkwyk, and he said that he didn’t want to be the one to get the meneer in trouble. I said to him, a woman is dead now and he must tell the truth, but he was just quiet and shook his head. He was not a bad man, Lawrence, but he was not strong.’
‘Did you love him?’ I asked.
‘Lawrence?’ she said. She looked at the neatly folded pile of men’s clothes on the couch and at the closed bedroom door. ‘No.’
I picked up the Tupperware and offered her the last vetkoek.