“Hey stranger. It’s been a while. Heard you are no longer with the Daily Voice. Are you well?”
“Yes, Captain. I’m doing some work for the Chimes. We’ll chat more about that later. Now back to my matter.
Can you give me any leads, please?”
“Always thinking like a newspaper person.” He chuckled. “Okay. He was a member of the Northcoast Doctors’ Society. Married. Two children. Attended a house call two nights ago. Nobody has seen him since. Name is Dr Shivaan Singh.”
“Thanks. Will keep in touch. Bye.” Feriyal’s adrenalin was pumping. She called the Northcoast Doctors’ Society and the secretary confirmed he was missing. There was nothing further she could divulge other than his brother’s contact number. General Practitioner Sunil Singh.
“Hello, Dr Singh. I’m Feriyal Adam, a reporter from the Morning Chimes. I’m gathering information about your missing brother. I’d like to do a story and hope someone will come forward with information.”
She hooked him in with her offer to help the search.
“Thank you. We really appreciate the offer. Shivaan received a call at 2am on Wednesday. He told his wife he had to attend to a patient. Nobody knows who called him, because he took his cell phone with. We are very worried. His wife is praying. She won’t eat. Then the children. A son and a four-year-old daughter.”
“Growing fears for missing doctor.”
Front page lead the next day. Guaranteed. Shane had said he had it covered, but news was fresh and this missing doctor had to be on the hot page.
“I’m pleased with your investigative skills. Aneel was a fool to let you go. Sounds good for front page. Something tells me this is not going to be a once-off story.” Shane gave her a high five.
The story broke in the first edition. Telephone lines rang wild. Many readers sympathised with the family. Others said he might have been involved in something unsavoury, like drugs. It turned out the missing doctor was having an affair with a married patient. Her husband found out, lured him out of the house, killed him and dumped the body.
Police found it in a ditch down the South Coast.
On that day, a young family was torn apart. A wife was widowed and children were orphaned. They hung their heads in shame for the sins of the one who had vowed to protect and honour his family. It was tough, but Feriyal had to remember she had to report on the story only, not become a part of it. There were interesting developments in the days that followed. The shut-down of illegal casinos. Hundreds of workers were going to lose their jobs. West Street was the ideal place. It housed the bright lights and thrills of gambling holes.
“What will become of you when the casino is shut down?” Feriyal asked a waitress serving drinks to patrons.
“I’m praying it doesn’t come to that. I have rent to pay and mouths to feed. I’m earning a decent living. If this is taken away, I will become a prostitute. There is no other way.” She refused to give her name. Gambling addicts complained too. “These casinos are in walking distance from my home. It’s a favourite pastime. I’m hurting nobody, so why do they have to shut down these places?”
Thousands of signatures were scribbled on paper begging authorities to let them be… but the day came. All unlicensed casinos were shut down. Nobody knew what happened to the staff.
Next were the fabricated rape cases in Umlazi. The prosecutor refused to discuss the matter over the phone. He wanted Feriyal to meet him at the court. She agreed.
A tall man wearing a flowing black cloak walked up to her. “Hello. I’m Enver Kuhn. You must be the reporter who called me yesterday.”
“Yes. Correct. I’m Feriyal Adam. Nice to meet you. I received a call about you throwing a rape case out of court. Why?”
“And you think I’m a bad guy, hey?” He melted into a smile. “I see files and files of rape cases every day. The problem is most of these cases are not genuine.” He arched his eyebrows.
“I don’t understand what you mean. If someone is raped, they or someone they know will go to a police station to lay a charge, right?”
“That’s how it is supposed to be. The difference is, young ladies today who have differences with their boyfriends lie about being raped. Others use it as an excuse when they spend the night away from their parents. They fabricate evidence claiming they were raped. This is now adding strain to the burdened court roll. Seems like Umlazi is fast becoming the rape capital of the country. The sad part is, women who come forward with genuine cases are being discredited because of this.”
“Whoa! I’m shocked. Women will go to such lengths? Thanks for the information. I know I have a story.” Feriyal scribbled like a frantic woman, then threw the notepad into her bag. She thanked Enver for his time, but turned down his offer to join him for a drink.
Her days were rushed and violent at times. Like the morning when she had covered a multiple car pile-up on a traffic-congested freeway.
It had been a sixteen-vehicle crash. A runaway truck racing in the fast lane had crashed into a car in front. This had caused a ripple effect along the road. The truck had caught alight, but the driver managed to escape with slight injuries. She had stood on the side and watched emergency services in action. Then she had seen it. Right in front of her. Her hair had stood on end. She had called the newsroom and dictated the story to someone. It had to be in the paper the same day.
“Three burning bodies were pulled from a smoking vehicle that caught under the cab of a runaway truck on the N2 northbound outside Durban today.” The story made front page. Feriyal had followed up with the police later in the day. They had told her the deceased driver had a firearm with him. They had used the serial number to trace his family. He was identified as Ashwin Pillay. He had been going to work on a construction site that day. Three casual labourers were with him. If he had made it through that doomed day, he would have celebrated his thirteenth wedding anniversary.
The situation became worse when news came that another dead woman had been found. Her nerves were frayed. She asked Shane to set up a meeting with the men who had been in his office. Captain Eugene Smith was the one who could meet them after his shift ended.
***
“Thanks for coming through, Captain. I have a plan I think may work. Remember I said may. Now before anyone cuts me short, just hear me out.”
Shane was uncomfortable. He knew he was not going to like what she planned to put on the table.
The policeman unbuttoned his blue shirt and leant back in his chair. Creases decorated his forehead. He was ageing fast. The stress of police work did that to some people.
“Let’s hear what you have.”
“Thanks. I’ve followed the newspaper reports. Studied the documents you gave me.” She patted the police file on her lap. “Indian women are his victims. I’ve read up on serial killers and research shows he goes after his own. His own race group. Take it that we’re looking for an Indian man, right?” Her gaze fell on the two men in the room. Were they following her trail of thought?
“Yes, we know this already. And what do you mean ‘we’re’ looking?”
The captain was agitated. “So what is the plan you have in mind?”
“Well, I looked at the daily police report you sent us. Today, I saw there was an attempted rape case reported to you. The information indicated the woman was Indian, in her mid-thirties, married with children and lived in Verulam.” Feriyal was on a roll and hoped she had won their trust. “On her way home from work, a man tried to engage her. He tried to pull her into his car, but she caused some sort of injury to his hand. Can’t remember exactly what she did, but it’s not important right now. Please let me speak to her. I’ll know what to do next. I’ll hold onto my plan until I speak to her.” Feriyal was resting her rear on the edge of the seat.
“Please trust me on this.”
“What are you up to?” Captain Eugene Smith didn’t wait for her response. “Do you realise you might be setting yourself up for a fall? Don’t get ahead of yourself. I’ll
see what I can do.” He walked out. He didn’t seem too pleased.
“Not you too, Shane! Just give me time and I’ll have something for you. At the media briefing, I asked if any woman escaped from the serial killer. Nobody could say for sure. I’ve been reading books on serial killers and I’m trying to plot his routine. His killing pattern. A bit of support will be encouraging.” She shot her anger onto him like a strafing bullet.
“Maybe you should give this up. It’s too dangerous. You know how you felt when you heard bodies were dumped close to your home. I’m trying to keep you safe. With me. I can’t lose you. I’m falling for you.” Shane said the words he hid in his heart. Now it was out there.
“I can’t do this now.” Her face was etched with disappointment. “Put your feelings aside. This is work. Let’s be professional.” She was a strongminded reporter. Feriyal Adam.
***
It took intense convincing to win over the complainant. The woman who had reported the attempted rape agreed to meet Feriyal. Her line of work was ‘unusual’. She was going to tell them everything, but her name had to be kept out of the press.
Captain Smith bailed out at the last minute. He had to attend an autopsy. There was no getting out of it. “You’ll have to go it alone. I’m really sorry, but it’s the life of a policeman.”
Feriyal was not deterred. In fact, she was relieved it was going to be just the two of them. She took a car from the company pool and drove to the meeting place; a coffee shop in La Lucia.
***
“Hi. You must be Shyla. I’m Feriyal. Thanks for meeting me.”
“My correct name is Sheila. Shyla is my working name. You do know the work I’m talking about, right? You look confused. Did the cops not explain it to you?”
“I think I’ve lost you. Let’s start from the beginning. I haven’t spoken to the detective. He had to go somewhere at the last minute. Maybe he was going to tell me what he knew. But that didn’t happen.”
“Sorry. I thought they briefed you about everything. At first, I was hesitant about going to lay a charge, but I couldn’t just sit back and forget the whole thing.”
The ladies ordered coffee and milk tart. They exchanged small talk and laughed as they got to know each other. The ice melted between them.
“So, Shyla. What don’t I know about your work? Tell me everything. From the beginning.”
“Well. You have a job. At the end of the month, you receive a salary. It helps to pay the bills. That is generally how it happens – for most of us. You see, I’m married with two children. My husband can’t work. His legs were amputated after a freak accident. The state grant isn’t enough.”
She dropped her gaze. Long lashes shielded the embarrassment concealed in her eyes.
“Sorry to hear that. It can’t be easy. I can relate to your situation. A few weeks ago, my job ended and I had to go home with nothing. My mum was diagnosed with cancer around about the same time. We didn’t have enough money. How was I going to tell her I wasn’t going back to work? We struggled and took it one day at a time. My mother fought hard to beat the situation. Every day, she wore her brave face and tried to be positive. When there was no more fight left in her, she slipped away.” A tear blemished Feriyal’s cheek, but she brushed it away.
“I’m lucky to find something again. It’s not permanent. But anything can happen.”
“You’re a brave young lady. I’m proud of you. You might not believe me, but your story has planted a seed of hope for my future. If you walk away when I tell you what I do, I’ll understand.” It was time to explain the nature of her work. “I’m a sex worker.” Silence filled the pockets of discomfort around them. Shyla looked for signs of disgust on Feriyal’s face. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. Yes, I’m fine. Startled a bit, but nothing to worry about. I’ve spoken to sex workers on the phone. Read letters they sent to the newspaper. But you’re the first one I’m meeting in person. I wouldn’t have taken you for a sex worker. You look so normal.” It was a dumb thing to say. It came out all wrong.
Shyla laughed. “We are normal people. Just like you; just like her.”
She glanced at a woman walking past with shopping bags. “I can’t find work that will give me enough money for my husband’s care and my children’s future. That’s the only difference between me and the other side of normal.” She wasn’t upset with Feriyal, but she was amused. “Yes. I sell my services in exchange for money. I’m not a saint. Just someone trying to earn money. My husband knows. He’s not happy, but what else is there for us?”
“There’s no need to feel ashamed. I considered it too when I lost my job. I even called an agency. Just couldn’t go through with it. I won’t judge you. Who am I to judge?”
“I have to keep myself perfect. Manicured hands. Soft skin. Expensive perfume. Revealing lingerie. Each time I’m with a client, my thoughts are blank. In the beginning, I was haunted by my actions. No matter how many times I washed myself, I still felt dirty. It’s a bit easier now, but the guilt never leaves you. ”
There was no notepad this time. “Is that how you met him? The man who tried to attack you?”
“Yes and no. He called earlier that day. Made an appointment for 3pm. Said he just wanted to talk. He sounded decent. I waited, but he didn’t arrive for his appointment. Then, just as I was about to lock up, he called. Said he was around the corner and wanted to spend the night with me. Again, he said he wasn’t looking for sex. Something about the way he spoke made me nervous. I refused to wait for him.”
“That must have been horrifying. I’m sorry you had to go through this.” Feriyal wondered why he had chosen to prey on Shyla. “Do you work alone?”
“I have someone else with me. A coloured woman. She leaves before me every day. Has to fetch her children from a day mother. We’ve worked together for three years and thought we saw it all. Men who act like babies. The ones who try to adopt you as their lover. The ones who ask for strange requests. Then this creep comes along.”
The waiter asked if they wanted a refill. Both agreed. They decided to have toasted sandwiches as well. One chicken and mayonnaise on brown; the other cheese and mushroom on whole wheat.
“A strange feeling came over me. I couldn’t understand what was happening. I felt a chill in the air and there were fine bumps on my arms. I called my husband. Didn’t want to alarm him, so I just said I called to tell him how much I loved him. My husband is romantic, so he appreciated the call.” Shyla raked her fingers through her hair. It made her feel like her harrowing ordeal was happening all over again. A nightmare she wanted to erase from her memory.
“I clutched mymhandbag and walked out. As I was putting the padlock on the gate, I heard a car. A Golf. A dark colour. It could have been black. Maybe grey. I don’t know now.” She paused for a bit, trying to remember what had happened next. “Then a voice. His voice. He wanted to know if I was running away from him.”
“Was there anyone close enough? Was he alone? Did you see him?”
Feriyal was hungry. She wanted every fine detail Shyla could spare.
“I don’t recall seeing anyone. But there must have been someone. This person saw what was happening and took down the number plate. The police couldn’t trace it. One of those fake plates you can get underground.”
“He sure acted brave. Smart too, it seems. But they do tend to falter. Then it all comes crashing down.”
“Now back to where I was. I turned around and saw his eyes. They looked dangerous. I know it’s a stupid way to describe someone’s eyes, but his gaze terrified me. I just couldn’t let him see my fear.” It was difficult to relive everything, but Shyla knew it was part of the healing process. She believed it was God’s will that her life had been spared; now, it was time for her to give something back. “He was well dressed. The professional look. He spoke good English and seemed pleasant. I walked away, asking him to rebook the next day. When I realised he was following me in his car, I quickened my steps. That’s when it happen
ed.He must have left the steering wheel, because he grabbed me around the waist with both hands.”
Feriyal’s eyes were like saucers. “You don’t have to complete your story if it’s becoming too much. We can continue another day. I don’t want you to go home feeling upset.”
“Let me get this over and done with. I screamed. I didn’t care if people thought I was acting like a banshee. When I was a little girl, my mother told me I should speak with a soft voice. That’s how women should be. But at that moment I didn’t care. I dug my nails deep into his face, but he wouldn’t let go. There was a flick knife in my bag. I carry it for safety reasons. My trembling hands found it in time. I slashed and slashed like a wild woman. He let me loose. He called me a bitch and said he was not finished with me.” She was breathing fast and asked the waiter for a glass of water. “I ran to the taxi rank for help. Some men went back to finish him off, but he was gone.”
“Is that when you went to the police station? You did the right thing.”
Feriyal held Shyla’s hands. The ones that touched other men; roamed over their bodies.
“I was taken to a doctor. He treated me for shock and cleaned the cuts and bruises. The police were called in to take a statement. That’s how it happened.” Shyla explained it was the reason she had avoided her place of work the last two days.
It was getting late. The sky was fast becoming dark. The ladies exchanged numbers before going their separate ways.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Two strangers paced around in the penthouse that evening. One was livid. The other confused.
“What is your problem? You called me in on this. Now that I’m making headway, you want me to throw in the towel.” Feriyal wanted Shane to explain his morbid manner.
“That is true, but it was also before things started becoming deep and dangerous. You are here with me. That’s where I want you to be. Leave the investigative work to the police.” Shane was paranoid. He could not afford to use her as bait. Not anymore.
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