the inquest is over, mr. du toit.
i only came home yesterday. after three months in detention and now i'm banned and confined to the house. there's nothing i can do for you.
how can i be sure you weren't actually sent by them?
come in. ben walks into the large living room, tastefully furnished.
sit down. ben is still looking 'round at the opulence. he sits in a chair.
what do you want to know?
what makes you think i signed dr. jansen's report.
impossible.
dr. jansen and i didn't disagree on the facts. after all we examined the same body in the same time. but just on the interpretation. for example, if gordon, had really been hanged, the marks on his throat would have been concentrated on the front. but in this case, the bruises were more obvious on the sides. pause. ben nods, silent.
something else really upset me, perhaps it isn't important.
you see, through a misunderstanding i arrived at the morgue too early for the autopsy. there wasn't a soul around except a young african attendant. when i told him i'd come for the autopsy, he let me in. the body was on the table dressed. i noticed blood on the clothes.
as i examined the clothes more closely, a police-officer came in and said i wasn't allowed in the morgue before dr. jansen arrived. when i returned with dr. jansen, half an hour later, the body was naked.
of course. i found it most odd.
please excuse me for a minute. ben watches him leave the room, the little girl following him. he gets up from the chair, walks to the window, glances through it, then steps to look at some family photographs on the mantlepiece. amongst them a photograph of dr. hassiem before "big ben." dr. hassiem returns with a file, the daughter still following.
this is my report. i only have one copy.
i know how to hide things from the s.b., mr. du toit. ben congratulates him by a deep laughter.
i hope you have as secure a place as i have.