Saskia found herself joining him on the crooked path and halting him with her hand. She had carried so much on her own for so long.

‘He is my father,’ Saskia said, her voice stronger than she had expected it to be. ‘Emil Coetzee is my biological father.’ She was surprised by how utterly relieved she felt. Chief Inspector Spokes Moloi looked saddened but not surprised. So he knew. ‘How did you know?’

‘The Selous School for Boys 1942 yearbook.’

‘That would have shown you my resemblance to her. There isn’t much, but the colouring is the same, and the long neck. But him … How?’

‘You inherited his eyes … and the uncertainty they hold,’ the Chief Inspector explained.

‘How did you know it was her and not me? Could have very easily been me.’

‘Whoever shot Tom Fortenoy obviously mistook him for Emil Coetzee … You never would have. But someone who perhaps hadn’t seen him in years …’

‘He was just a child and she was his teacher.’ For some time, Saskia was at a loss as to what to say next. ‘He had no idea about me,’ she continued. ‘I had no idea about him until the man who raised me told me as he lay dying. My mother thought I was going to tell Emil Coetzee the truth. In her own way, she stopped me.’

The Chief Inspector nodded slowly as the last piece of the puzzle fell into place for him.

‘It is my fault,’ Saskia said.

‘What is your fault?’ the Chief Inspector said, frowning for the first time.

‘All of it. Emil Coetzee … Tom Fortenoy … all of it.’

‘Mrs Hargrave—’

‘No. Don’t you see? I paid Emil Coetzee a visit the day before he disappeared. I went to see him at The Tower, and … and he looked at me with such disdain – as if I was nothing that mattered. He had no idea who I was. How could I fill him with such contempt when he had no idea who I was? But maybe … maybe he knew exactly who I was the second he saw me. Recognised some trait, some feature, some characteristic of hers, and knew. Just knew. And this knowledge is what made him drive to the bush and never walk out of it. It was the sort of thing she was afraid he would do once he knew, and he did it … and I made him do it.’

‘Mrs Hargrave,’ the Chief Inspector said, reaching out to put a hesitant hand on her shoulder. ‘You cannot do this to yourself. I happen to know why Emil Coetzee drove to the bush. You can rest assured that you are not the reason he did what he did.’

The Chief Inspector was trying to let her off the hook, but Saskia did not want to be let off the hook. ‘Tom Fortenoy is definitely my fault. She wouldn’t have killed him if she hadn’t been afraid.’