Chapter Fifteen
The first thought whining like a nagging wife for my attention was where the police had received their information that I could assist with their enquiries. Joined to that thought, in the delightful non-linear fashion of the most creative cerebral activity, was the question of how they had known where to find me. Coincidence? Luck? Or had they been making the whole thing up? Just looking for someone to harass on a slow night? And recognizing me from an earlier encounter?
Or had they actually been investigating something real? Bodies drained of blood? In 20th century Johannesburg? It was possible, I reasoned. This wasn’t Colombia, where the real monsters seemed to have their playgrounds, but we had our fair share of strange deaths. And hadn’t Rafael mentioned something abo
