"Pedro lost his temper then, and the beating began. It did not stop until long after Jade had lost consciousness and Pedro had run out of breath..."
Alone in the world, Johnny Roberts has to face his worst fears, and overcome his greatest obstacles...
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It was a small, red brick house with a tin roof on the wrong side of the tracks. Chimneys from nearby factories spewed their crap into the already hazy air, and from somewhere nearby she could hear the steady thump of a stamping mill.
Cheryl shuddered. She could not imagine what it must be like living in a place like this. Scott rang the doorbell and presently a short, stocky man in a stained vest and flip-flops answered.
'What?'
'I am Detective Scott Riley. This is Doctor Cheryl Parker from the CIA. We'd like to talk to you about the disappearance of your son.'
'CIA hey?' he mumbled. Looking at them again, he seemed to remember himself. 'I am Hendrik Roberts, but you can call me Robbie. Come inside.'
Cheryl looked around as they entered the tiny, run-down house. She could immediately see the lack of a woman's touch in this home. The place was a mess; empty bottles competed for space with dirty dishes on the coffee table.
Robbie turned to Scott and asked, 'What is she doing here?'
'Doctor Parker's government has been kind enough to send her here to lead the investigation,' he replied.
'Really?' he said, looking slightly puzzled, 'I didn't realise a missing boy would warrant an international collaboration. He's just a missing kid after all.'
Cheryl interjected. 'Mister Roberts, you need to understand that your son is only a small part of what we are investigating. You were there, you saw the mysterious craft fly into the distance, and that is why I am here.
'Obviously, we all hope to find Johnny, but to do that we have to find the craft in which he disappeared. We are hoping that in finding out a little more about him and the circumstances surrounding his disappearance, it may shed some light on the matter. It is, after all, a question of global security.'
'Ja, of course I understand. I just keep on forgetting the importance of this so-called UFO we saw,' Robbie replied.
'So you do admit to seeing the craft?' she asked.
'Ja! In fact I gave the cops a full description.'
'Would you be so kind as to tell it again, in your own words, please? I have read the report but I find these things often lose their colour when reduced to words on a page.'
'Okay, no problem,' Robbie replied. He had a strong Afrikaner accent; accentuating his consonants, and rolling his r's. Cheryl had to listen closely to make sure she didn't miss anything.
'We went fishing – just like we do every year. It's always such a lekker time for us. When we got there, everything was fine. We set up, and Johnny went to play in the water. I had a few drinks and the next minute Johnny was back and we started arguing.'
'What exactly were you arguing about?' asked Cheryl, taking notes as he spoke.
'I've had some time to think about it, and some of it has come back to me,' said Robbie, 'I remember speaking about my dead wife, and I remember telling Johnny he was adopted.'
