his dog.”
“That’s what we thought.”
“I don’t know what to do.”
Greta grabbed a few more clothes off the line and threw them over her shoulder. “I’d go back to the police. Come on in, I’ll give you a cuppa.”
“I just had one.”
“Well, stay for dinner then. We’ll eat in an hour or so.”
“Thanks, sweetie, not today.”
At home, Itumeleng heated up a beef stew and gave Alice a bowlful. Alice looked at her fondly, thinking she was one of the homeliest people she’d ever met. A thin scar began at the round of her cheek and plunged toward her jaw. Her face was huge, her eyes large, her eyebrows a jumble. One gold and one white front tooth sat side by side. The few times Alice had seen her go out at night, a stain of pink lipstick blazed across the white and gold.
“I’ve decided to go to the police,” Alice said.
“No, madam, you must not. It will make trouble.”
“Are you afraid it will make trouble for you?” Alice stood up and set her empty plate in the sink.
Itumeleng sloshed water into a dented pot. “No, I am not afraid of them. I am not afraid of anyone.” The back of her neck was moist with sweat. She wore a pink uniform, stained under the arms. Alice had not wanted her to wear a uniform, but Itumeleng had wanted one. She had this pink one and a green one.
“He would not have left his dog unless something had happened to him.”
“Leave it, madam.” Itumeleng banged the pot. “Last year you did not know him.”
“But I know him now.”
“Next year, again you will not know him.”
“I hope to know him next year.”
“If you have a child, then you are not asking for trouble like this,” Itumeleng said. She kept her eyes on the ground and walked out the backdoor.
Alice picked up the pot Itumeleng had set down and slammed it against the table.
The deputy chief of police did not look well. Mr. Tebape’s skin was tired and pitted, his shoulders sagged. The chief of police was out of town. Mr. Tebape hadn’t wanted to see her, and his secretary had tried to pawn her off on someone else. She sat in an uncomfortable wooden chair on the opposite side of his desk. She explained that Will had seen another member of the police force when Mr. Tebape was out of town.
“My mother was ill,” he said, as though she’d accused him of something.
“I hope she’s better now.”
“She is not better, she is late,” he said with a slight quaver.
“I’m very sorry.”
“Ke a leboga, mma,” he thanked her. He moved a cup from one place on his desk to another place and looked at her for the first time.
She explained the circumstances surrounding Isaac’s disappearance.
“Which town is he from?”
She hesitated. “He is from South Africa. Pretoria.”
“Legal or illegal?”
“Will I get him in trouble if I say illegal?”
A small twitch of a smile passed over his lips. “No, madam.”
“Illegal. His name is Isaac Muthethe.”
Mr. Tebape shifted in his seat. “I do not know anything about this man,” he said.
“Is it possible that anyone on your force would know anything?”
“I will make inquiries,” he said. “Tell me his name again.”
She spelled it for him while he wrote it down. “He was … is a very responsible, peace-loving person. He had been a medical student before coming here. He needed to flee for political reasons.”
Mr. Tebape nodded. “I will let you know, madam, if I have discovered anything. If Mr. Muthethe returns, he must apply for political asylum at that time.”
“Yes, of course.”
He stood. The interview was over. The heat smacked her as she stood to leave.
She’d been deep into a dream when the phone rang after midnight. She jumped up and ran from the bedroom in a panic, stubbing her toe on a corner of the couch.
“Did I wake you?” he said.
“Yes. Where are you?”
“Maun. I’m sorry to call so late. I just got in. No place to phone you from.”
“How are you?” she asked.
“I’ve missed you. Are you all right?”
“Almost better, but a strange thing’s happened. Isaac’s missing. He left his dog. I went to the deputy chief of police today and got nowhere.”
“Maybe he took off.”
“He’s not that sort of person.”
“Do you have an address for his family?”
“No.”
“I don’t know what to suggest.”
“I don’t know what to do, either.”
“I’m sorry. I wish I were there with you.” His voice sounded husky.
“Oh, god, that makes two of us. What have you been doing?”
“Cutting fence. First