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looked even sadder. “His name was Ndzoyiya, Phineas Ndzoyiya. He lives in Durban, but he’s originally from the Eastern Cape.”
    I said nothing, but I felt ridiculously guilty all the same.
    â€œHis son, who works here in Pietermaritzburg, has told us his father was staying with him for a couple of days. He had come to the city to meet an artist: Mr Moyo, in fact. Did you know that?” Pillay was looking hard at me. His appearance was deceptive: he was neither submissive nor sleepy; he wasn’t missing a thing. And he hadn’t missed a thing yesterday either.
    I took a deep breath, and a mouthful of tea while I tried to collect my thoughts. “Look, Inspector, yesterday, when Daniel found the body, he had absolutely no idea who it could be. It was only when you showed us the Mendi photograph that he realised there might be a connection with his research.” I spoke slowly, trying to tell the absolute truth without putting Dan into a more difficult situation than the one he seemed to be in already.
    â€œI was surprised by the photograph. It gave me a shock, I suppose, when the sergeant asked about the Mendi . After all, just before Dan found the body, we had been talking about it. It was a crazy kind of coincidence. We told you, remember, that it had been mentioned when we were talking.”
    â€œYes, you did.”
    â€œIt was only earlier today that Daniel said he had begun to realise that it might not be just a coincidence. He had been trying to contact descendants of the survivors of the Mendi , and had arranged to meet a man from Durban this week.” There. That shouldn’t put Dan into a bad light.“I’m sure he’s going to contact you and tell you.”
    â€œNo need. Sergeant Dhlomo has gone to see him.” Pillay was watching me, waiting for a reaction.
    â€œWell, that’s okay then. Daniel can tell him what he knows.”
    Pillay nodded. “Had Mr Moyo arranged to meet Mr Ndzoyiya here, at your house?”
    â€œNo … I don’t think so. I mean, why would he? Dan had just dropped in to see me. We’re old friends, but he’s staying with someone else and probably doing his research at the university. I’d imagine they were going to meet there.”
    â€œBut Mr Ndzoyiya’s body was found here.”
    â€œWell, yes. But you said you thought he had been killed somewhere else.”
    â€œDid I?” Pillay looked surprised. “Well, it’s a possibility. We don’t know yet. But if he was, then why dump the body here?”
    â€œ I don’t know. I know nothing about all this, really. I know it must look odd, but it’s just a coincidence.”
    â€œYou think so?”
    â€œYes, I do! You’re not suggesting Daniel killed this man, brought him here, dumped him, came round to the front of the house, rang my doorbell, offered to take my dog for a walk and then came rushing back saying he had found a body? I mean, that’s just insane!” I was beginning to sound shrill.
    Pillay ran a hand over his face, as if trying to smooth away his weariness. When he took it away, his skin had reddened, but the colour faded quickly.
    I went on. “Surely you’re investigating what else Mr Ndzoyiya was doing here; what he did in Durban; who his enemies were? I simply cannot believe that Daniel had anything to do with his death. Or that his death is anyway connected to the SS Mendi .”
    â€œWe have to investigate everything.” The inspector looked hopefully at the teapot, and reluctantly I poured him another mug. I wanted him gone. Surely they couldn’t be suspecting Daniel? It was completely crazy.
    The inspector spoke again: “How did Mr Moyo arrive yesterday? Did he have a car, or a bicycle, or was he on foot?”
    He must have known the answer to that. They had seen Daniel here, and had watched him go. “He has a car – an old Golf. I suppose he came in that. I didn’t