The Wall

72

The garage door shut again. Footsteps heading straight into the room.

“But I took the money out.” High Voice.

“Look one more time.” Deep Voice.

Thembinkosi listened while someone sat down on the bed and opened the suitcase zipper. Rummaged around. Threw things on the floor.

“I told you it’s not in there.” High Voice.

Thembinkosi could see his shadow through the cracks in the wardrobe louvers. High Voice was sitting less than a meter from the door. He tried to hold his breath.

“Then tell me where it is.” Deep Voice was now very quiet.

“I don’t know.” High Voice’s voice grew a little higher.

“I’m not saying you have it, but I’d like to know you’re giving some thought to this. Tell me what you think.”

“How do you mean that?”

For a few moments, Thembinkosi heard nothing. Deep Voice then inhaled and exhaled, loudly and slowly. “Look, I just want to know what happened. What did you do with the money?”

“You know that already. I put it in the kitchen drawer.”

Another pause. Deep Voice was waiting for High Voice to continue. “And?” he finally prodded.

“And?… It’s gone now.” Pause. A long one.

“Explain that.”

“I can’t.”

Outside the sound of cars driving up. Doors slamming.

“Give it a try. Just a little one.”

“Shit,” High Voice said.

“What?”

“Out there. The dog.”

“They’re not here because of us.” Deep Voice’s voice grew even quieter. It sounded menacing.

Silence. Again. Thembinkosi tried to imagine what was going on outside the house. Cars. Sure. A dog? Why?

“Someone was here,” High Voice now said. Silence. Another second and then another. And then another.

Open the wardrobe door, apologize for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. We just want to get out of here, just want to go home. Best of luck with the corpse! And, uh… by the way, here’s the money. No hard feelings. None at all!

Still silence. Deep Voice eventually broke it. “Exactly.”

High Voice leaped up. Some synapse had finally fired. “You think I’m the one behind it!”

“Did I say that?”

“No, but…”

Shit, thought Thembinkosi. If this were a film, they would now be at each other’s throats.

If this were a film, nobody would be standing in the wardrobe. Unbelievable.

“Did you tell anyone about it?”

“You.”

“Anyone else?”

“No, of course not.”

“Who could’ve known then?”

“Nobody.”

“Could someone have suspected? Gwen?”

“How? She hears us plan to murder her mother? We set the trap for her, and Gwen lets us do it and then comes to the house to grab the money out from under us?”

“And your mother-in-law herself?”

“She’s dead. She couldn’t have taken the money.” High Voice was growing more self-assured. Receding fear. Deep Voice wouldn’t take him out. At least, not immediately.

“But she might have told someone. My son-in-law says he’s in trouble, but I don’t believe him.”

“And someone followed her?”

“Why not?”

“And waits until she’s dead to take the money.”

“What did you actually tell her?”

“You know already.”

“I wasn’t there.”

“They’ve left again,” High Voice said. He began to pace up and down.

“What?” Silence.

“Oh! The dog and the people. They’re gone.” High Voice. “I told her that I didn’t know what to do. And I told her about the Czech.”

“So, the truth.”

“Yes, just not the amount. I exaggerated that. A little.”

“That was the plan. What did you tell her about the Czech?”

“The truth, that he’s going to kidnap Gwen, and then rape her and cut her into little pieces.”

“If he didn’t get his money back.”

“Yes. If he didn’t get his money back.”