Facets of Death

by Michael Stanley

  “You know what to do,” he told them, and they nodded. “Do it now!”

  As the vehicle started forward, the leader looked over his shoulder. The boys were herding the cattle onto the road, hitting them with thin sticks if they tried to stray. The leader grinned, and his men started to relax.

  They weren’t expecting any trouble, but at the intersection of the A10 to Gaborone and the A2 to Kanye, they came to a police roadblock.

  As they approached, the leader heard his men readying their guns.

  “Wait! The Sejelo police station is right here. This must be just a regular roadblock, checking licences and so on. They can’t know about us yet. And we’ve picked up nothing on the police band. Keep cool. Let me handle this.” He turned to the driver. “You’ve got your licence?”

  The man nodded. He’d need a new one after this.

  The leader glanced behind him. “Keep your pistols out of sight. But be ready. Are the AKs and the box properly covered up in the back? And get that bullet-proof vest off, Kenosi. I hope he doesn’t ask about your uniform. I don’t want to explain why we have a security man in the car.”

  A policeman waved them down.

  “Dumela, rra. Driver’s licence, please.”

  He took it and studied it carefully. “Where are you heading today?”

  “Gaborone,” the leader told him. “To talk about lobola for my niece.”

  The policeman nodded. All the male members of the immediate family would be expected to take part in discussing the bride price. “I hope they treat you well.” However, he didn’t give back the licence. He walked around the car and looked in the back. Kenosi held his breath, unsure what side he was on now. Eventually the policeman walked all the way around and handed the driver his licence. Then he waved them on. “Travel safely.”

  They drove on and, a few minutes later, turned off the main road and headed east on the minor road towards Ranaka. Shortly after, the leader called a halt. One of his men fiddled with some equipment and gave Kenosi a microphone. Trying to keep his voice steady, Kenosi called in.

  “What happened? We couldn’t raise you, and the satellite feed shows you stationary at the point where you last called in.”

  “We’re having electrical problems. This bucket needs an overhaul. The lights and indicators are dead. We’ve no idea what’s going on. Here are our coordinates.” He read them off from the scrap of paper he’d been given.

  There was a moment’s silence from the other end. They weren’t buying it, and if he was going to be dumped out here, he needed to cover himself.

  “Everything’s cool,” he said. Then he repeated it. “Everything’s cool.”

  He signed off, and the leader took back the microphone. “Okay, Kenosi. Get out of the car.”

  Kenosi did as he was told and immediately backed away.

  The leader raised his gun.

  “I’m sorry, Kenosi,” he said. “There’s been another change of plan.”

  Chapter 11

  “Where the hell’s the backup vehicle?” Henkel yelled. Now they knew the second vehicle was in trouble because Kenosi had used the alarm phrase “Everything’s cool.” And the story about electrical problems was nonsense—that wouldn’t freeze the satellite position.

  The duty officer raised the backup vehicle on the radio. “Unit two’s in trouble! They used the emergency code phrase—”

  Henkel interrupted him. “The satellite track for unit two stops right about where you should be. Can you see anything?”

  A few seconds later, the response came that unit two was nowhere to be seen.

  “Okay, we’ll give you the coordinates Kenosi just gave us. I’m sure they’re false, but you need to take a look.”

  A few minutes later, the backup vehicle called in again.

  “We’re stuck in a cattle jam. They’re all over the place. I swear the herd boys are keeping them on the road instead of getting them off!”

  “Push through the bloody cows!” Henkel shouted. “Get moving! Right now.”

  A few moments later they reported they were through, and the duty officer gave them the coordinates.

  After that, he checked with units one and three, but they were fine and their satellite feeds matched their positions. He warned them that there was a problem, and they should be on high alert.

  After about ten minutes, the backup vehicle reported they’d reached a roadblock, and there was no sign of unit two.

  “We’ve checked with the guys here. One armoured vehicle’s been through. Only one.”

  Henkel shook his head. “We’ve lost them.” The day had been a nightmare from the moment Goodman had called. Now it had become a disaster.

  “Okay. I’m going to alert the police. And Debswana. I need to get the contacts and the protocol in my office.” As he turned to go, the duty officer tried again to raise unit two on the radio, but there was no reply. Henkel shook his head again and walked out.

  Chapter 12

  The station commander of Sejelo police station was about to head home for dinner when the deputy commissioner reached him on the phone. By the time he hung up, he knew he wouldn’t be going home for quite some time, and dinner would be long delayed—if he had any at all.

  He jumped up from his desk and walked quickly to the main office, yelling for the sergeant on duty. The man met him halfway, but the commander didn’t break his stride.

  “We think there’s been an attack on a Gaborone Cash in Transit vehicle,” he told the man as they reached the sergeant’s desk. “The company says the vehicle’s in trouble. How many squad cars can you get out there right now?”

  The sergeant didn’t hesitate. “Two vehicles are out on patrol.” He grabbed the police-network microphone as he continued talking. “And we’ve got six men running a routine roadblock at the intersection of the A2 with the A10. Should we pull them in?”

  The station commander shook his head. “A roadblock could be just what we need. Get me the two patrol vehicles on the radio.”

  Moments later he was addressing them. “Attention, men. This is the station commander speaking. We believe there’s an attack in progress on an armoured cash-in-transit vehicle on the A2 towards Jwaneng. The security company has given us the position where they believe it is—that’s between the fifty-two point four and fifty-two point five markers. Get going. And use extreme caution—the attackers are likely to be heavily armed. Don’t try to take them down yourselves. Your job is to keep them under surveillance till we get backup there. Clear?”

  The vehicles confirmed. They were already on their way, sirens blaring.

  “Who’s being robbed, Superintendent?” the sergeant asked.

  The station commander hesitated. “Debswana. But keep that to yourself. The deputy commissioner doesn’t want the newspapers hounding him right now. He’s arranging helicopter support from the air force, and he’s also arranging a roadblock just outside Jwaneng with the police there. Then we’ll have the road controlled at both ends. Tell our men at the roadblock to stop every vehicle and search it. Every one. And to be careful.”

  The sergeant nodded. “Yes, sir. What are they looking for?”

  “A box. About fifty centimetres long, secured with heavy-duty padlocks. And weapons. Definitely weapons. Tell them to get the occupants out of each vehicle and cover them while they search. And you need to get reinforcements there as well.”

  The sergeant looked flustered. “I haven’t got the men. We’ll need—”

  “Find them, Sergeant! Get on to it. And keep in touch with our two vehicles all the time. I need to report to the deputy commissioner, but I’ll be back in a minute.”

  As the station commander headed back to his office, the sergeant called the roadblock and relayed the station commander’s instructions. The constable there had news of his own. “Only one of their vehicles has been through, so
the second vehicle must still be on the road from Jwaneng.”

  Next, the sergeant sent off the two constables still in the building to pick up weapons, take a squad car, and join the other two heading to the scene. Then, he checked with the patrol cars already on the way there. They were still a few minutes away. Finally, he made a quick phone call.

  “We need you at the station. Right away,” he told the person who answered.

  “Come on, Sergeant! It’s my day off. And I’m with a girlfriend. There must be someone else on call.”

  “Everyone is coming in, Constable. Get over here now.”

  “I’ve had a few drinks,” the man said slyly.

  “You sound fine. You better be able to shoot straight though. You may need to. There’s a heist of an armoured vehicle underway!”

  “Oh. Okay, I’m on my way.”

  The station commander came back to the desk and demanded a report.

  “I’ve alerted the roadblock, sir. They say only one Gaborone Cash in Transit vehicle has been through. And another patrol car will be heading to the scene in a few minutes.”

  “Well done, Sergeant. We’ve got them trapped between here and Jwaneng. The deputy commissioner is arranging help for us from Gaborone too. Those bastards are going to be sorry!”

  Chapter 13

  At the CID, Kubu had spent the afternoon brooding about his case. It was a real puzzle.

  He and Neo had watched the CCTV footage and saw the missing bags—at least the ones they could positively identify—being put on the baggage carts that would take them to the plane, where they would be scanned as they were loaded. And they had been scanned.

  And the records showed that they’d been scanned again in Johannesburg as they were loaded for the next leg of their journey.

  He frowned. How could a piece of luggage be scanned in Gaborone, scanned again in Johannesburg, yet not arrive at its destination? It didn’t make sense.

  Unless Neo was right—that they’d been stolen by the baggage handlers in London and Paris.

  But the baggage handlers were adamant that they’d put all of the bags from the two aircraft in question onto the carousels. The bags that were missing had not been on those flights.

  Kubu could accept that the handlers at one airport were lying. But at two different airports a long way apart, in different countries? No way. That wasn’t possible.

  He thought back to what his childhood Bushman friend, Khumanego, had once told him—that black men couldn’t see what was in front of their eyes.

  So what was he missing? What was in front of him that he couldn’t see?

  He shook his head.

  Let me go through everything again, he thought. Carefully. One step at a time.

  Chapter 14

  The police squad car with constables Boi and Kabo was the first to reach the section of the A2 indicated by the security company. They were delayed by cattle milling around the road at one point, but the herd boys drove the cows off the road as soon as they spotted the police vehicles.

  They drove slowly between the designated road markers.

  There was nothing there.

  Both of them felt the tension, guessing that the robbers would be better armed than they were, and there might be more of them.

  “They probably forced the vehicle off the road into the bush,” Boi said. “I’ll go on a little farther, then turn around.”

  They drove on another few hundred metres before they did a U-turn and slowly made their way back, checking for where a vehicle could have turned off the road. Kabo spotted a small track heading off into the bushes on the left.

  “They could have gone down there. But how would they have forced the driver to turn off the road?”

  “Should we take a look?” Boi asked. “They could be in those bushes over there.”

  “We should wait for the other vehicle. They must be close behind us.”

  Boi nodded. Neither man was in a hurry to take on whatever was waiting up that track. He radioed for instructions. It was the station commander who answered.

  “We’ve got a helicopter on the way. You can check out the track, but don’t get too close. Okay?”

  “Yes, sir,” Boi responded. At that moment the second vehicle drove up. “We’re going in now, sir,” he added.

  They edged off the main road and proceeded cautiously down the track. They could see nothing unusual.

  “It must be over,” Kabo said. “If this is the right place, they’re gone.”

  Boi hoped that was true, but he wasn’t betting on it.

  Again, they edged forward. Then Boi slammed on the brakes. “There it is! The armoured vehicle. Through those trees there.”

  Kabo grabbed the mic and reported back to the station. The second vehicle pulled up behind them.

  “Any sign of anyone?” the station commander asked.

  “Nobody. And there’s no other vehicle. They’ve gone.”

  “Okay, take a look. But don’t assume that the vehicle is abandoned. Stay on high alert.”

  Kabo and Boi took out their guns and climbed from their vehicle, taking cover behind it. The men from the other patrol car joined them.

  “Police! Come out with your hands up. Right now!” Boi shouted.

  There was no response, only the usual summer sounds of the bush. He shouted again, and again there was no reply. Then the four men spread out and approached the vehicle.

  There was no sign of life, and soon they could see that the back of the cash-in-transit vehicle had been blown open.

  It was Kabo who spotted a body lying a few metres away in the brush with flies buzzing around the head. Still alert, he moved towards it. “Here’s one of the guards,” he called. “He’s dead. Looks like he’s been shot in the face.”

  Boi walked over. “God! That’s not the result of a shoot-out. That’s a shot in the face at close range. And it’s not a man, it’s a woman.”

  Kabo realised he was right.

  Then one of the other men discovered Oteng’s body, and the story there was the same.

  Disgusted and angry, Kabo headed back to the squad car to report.

  Chapter 15

  Kubu had just started listing all he knew about the case of the disappearing suitcases when the phone rang. It was Miriam, the director’s assistant.

  “Detective Sergeant Bengu? The director wants everyone in the meeting room in five minutes.” Without waiting for an acknowledgement, she rang off.

  Kubu grabbed his notebook and headed to the meeting room. One or two detectives were already there, and the others came in quickly.

  Director Gobey joined them after a few minutes, looking grim. He dropped into his seat and got to the point at once.

  “We believe a Gaberone Cash in Transit vehicle transporting diamonds from Jwaneng for Debswana was attacked just over half an hour ago. Right now, police from Sejelo are heading for the scene, and—” He broke off as Miriam came in and whispered something to him.

  “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  There was a murmur around the room. Cash-in-transit heists were uncommon in Botswana; one involving a load of diamonds from Debswana was unheard of.

  Gobey returned after a couple of minutes looking even more serious than before. “That was the deputy commissioner,” he began. “Police from the Sejelo station have found the cash-in-transit vehicle.” Anger filled his voice. “Two of the security guards were murdered. Shot in the face at close range. The vehicle was blasted open, and the cargo stolen. A large amount of rough diamonds, apparently. Here are some other points you need to know. Debswana used three armoured vehicles. Two were carrying dummies—boxes containing stone chips. The third had all the diamonds, although the armoured vehicle guards didn’t know that. We don’t yet know which of the vehicles had the diamonds—it was chosen at random. The vehicles travelled f
rom Jwaneng fifteen minutes apart, and it was the middle vehicle that was attacked. The others are progressing normally and now have police escorts.

  “There are already some clues. It appears that the security system of the van they attacked was tampered with. The guard in the back should have been able to alert the company of the attack, but didn’t, and the front doors seem to have been unlocked, not forced. Also, this isn’t the way Debswana normally transports diamonds. They usually fly them from their airport at Jwaneng, but there was an explosion on the runway this morning when a plane took off. It’s an obvious possibility that that was engineered. There’s a lot more to this than an opportunistic heist.”

  Mabaku put up his hand, and Gobey nodded to him. “So, the robbers would have needed to know about the plan to go by road?”

  “Clearly,” Gobey responded. “The backup plan was approved at the highest levels in Debswana, as well as the police service. In fact, I approved it also. So, it looks like inside information leaked from Jwaneng. And there was someone with access to Gaborone Cash in Transit’s vehicles. Any other questions?” He glared at the group. “Good. Assistant Superintendent, I’d like you to head out to Jwaneng mine right away. We’ll tell them to expect you this evening. Take someone with you to help—maybe Samkoa. Where is he anyway?” No one seemed to know, so he continued. “I’m going out to the security company myself. Detective Sergeant Neo will accompany me. We also need to liaise with the Sejelo detectives. They had a roadblock set up before the heist, so it’s possible the robbers may have gone through it. Inspector Dow will handle that. Inspector, you probably need to get out there right away. You can check out the crime scene also.”

  Kubu put up his hand. “How can I help, sir?”

  “By being on standby till further instructed. Now everyone get going.” As they got up, he held up his hand. “One more thing. No comments to the press. The commissioner wants to announce the capture of the robbers at the same time as the heist. So, we’ve got our work cut out for us.”