‘Flippit!’ Jannie said, glancing over at Jools. ‘What the hell does that mean?’
‘Boss, about a week later she received the first of the offshore bank deposits.’ Chaz paused. ‘I don’t know if it’s related ...’
‘I think we can assume it is,’ Hertzog said. ‘Well done, detective.’
‘Oh, boss, sorry. There was one more note. I thought it may be of interest. It occurs right at the end of December, nineteen-eighty-five. It reads: “I saw M today. How bizarre!” That’s it.’
Hertzog shook his head, frowning. ‘I don’t know what to make of that one. Thanks, Chaz. Good work. Let me know what you learn about the friends.’
‘Sure thing, boss.’
Hertzog ended the call. He looked at the board, troubled. ‘Just when I think we’re starting to understand things ...’
That’s when the phone rang again.
‘Captain Hertzog speaking.’
‘And here I thought you were never going to answer the phone.’ It was Dawie Malan. Deputy Minister for Law and Order. Rising star in the National Party ranks.
‘My goodness.’ Hertzog was genuinely surprised. ‘What a pleasant surprise?’ Dawie Malan laughed. ‘Sorry about the phone, sir. I was busy with an important call.’
‘Oh come now, please. You know me better than that. Call me Dawie.’
Hertzog laughed, amiable. ‘Very well, Dawie. I was actually expecting your personal assistant to phone.’
‘Sarah? Hell no, she’s too busy doing my work for me.’ He laughed again. The easy confident laughter of someone who has achieved a great deal at a very young age. ‘Listen, Shaun, I’ve got some good news for you. I hope you have a working fax machine on that side.’
‘Surprisingly we do, Dawie,’ Hertzog said, indicating with some frenzy for Jannie to insert some paper into the fax machine in the corner of the room. Jannie Duvenhage jumped up and ran over towards the fax. He gave Hertzog a thumbs up. ‘Considering police budgets and all.’
‘Well, we’ll certainly have to look into that, won’t we?
‘How about a raise, while you’re at it?’
Dawie Malan laughed loudly. ‘Listen, old bean, I’m going to be sending you something shortly. It’s the information you requested.’ He lowered his voice in whispered conspiracy. ‘You have no idea how much wheeling and dealing it took to get that information for you. More than a few feathers were ruffled, I assure you.’ He lowered his voice even more. ‘The old man can get rather grumpy,’ he said, referring to the venerable Pik Botha, the world’s longest serving Minister of Foreign Affairs. He lowered his voice even more. ‘Especially when he’s had a few the previous evening, if you know what I mean?’ Once again, the confident easy laughter. ‘He personally warned me the next time I want to stage an international incident I bloody well better have a case of Shivas on his desk. In triplicate.’ Hertzog chuckled. ‘Listen, Sarah is faxing something through to you as we speak.’ Hertzog again indicated the fax with his head, eyes large with urgency. Jannie looked over at him, shaking his head with equal urgency.
‘Dawie, you have no idea how much this means to me. Thank you so much.’
‘No problem, old man. I would say you owe me one. But hell, you do so much for our country. Consider it a token of my appreciation.’ In the corner, Jannie made a yelping noise. The fax machine started whirring and beeping.
‘I see the fax is coming through,’ Hertzog said. ‘I’m going to have to buy you dinner when I get back to Pretoria.’
‘I’m going to hold you to that, old bean. Good luck, and let me know how you’re progressing.’
‘Will do. Thanks again.’ Hertzog ended the call and ran over to the fax. Just in time to pull the completed facsimile from the machine’s inky innards.
He looked at the fax.
His eyes grew large.
‘What?’ Jools ran over. ‘What does it say?’
Hertzog handed the fax to Jools. And leaned forward against a table, a thousand cogs and gears spinning in his head. ‘Unbelievable.’
Jools scanned the contents of the fax. ‘It doesn’t make sense.’
‘What doesn’t make sense?’
Jools handed the fax to Jannie Duvenhage. He looked at Hertzog. ‘Or does it?’
Jannie studied the fax. He looked at his colleagues. ‘I don’t understand.’ He walked over to Hertzog. And read the fax again. ‘It says the bank account belongs to something called the Bavaria Trust. What does that mean?’
‘Look at the executor of the trust, Junior,’ Jools said with dry emphasis.
Jannie scanned the page again. ‘Oh my God.’ He looked at Jools and Hertzog. ‘It’s De Wet Bismarck. Michelle’s father.’
Jools nodded. ‘Uh-huh. That’s right.’
‘So boss, I still don’t understand. Does it mean he had a change of heart? Is he financing his daughter behind his wife’s back?’
Jools looked at the young detective with a measure of disbelief. ‘Hell no, Jannie. That’s not what it means.’
Hertzog glanced at Jools. ‘Stop torturing him.’ He now turned to Jannie. ‘It means, detective ... Michelle Bismarck was blackmailing her father.’
Twenty-eight
The twenty-something receptionist stared at the three policemen with haughty disdain. She had a huge head of black hair which came crashing to her shoulders. On each of her fingers she wore large bulbous rings which matched the purple of her dress. In the far corner of the waiting room, a hefty middle-aged woman stared at the scene with undisguised fascination. Next to her a pensioner was pretending to read Die Huisgenoot, South Africa’s biggest magazine. (In the average Afrikaans home you are guaranteed to find three books: the Bible, the HAT dictionary and Die Huisgenoot.)
‘I’m sorry. Do you have an appointment?’
Jools stepped forward, flashing his badge. ‘I don’t think you understand ... Miss ...?’ He waited for the girl to provide her name.
‘No, I don’t think you understand. Doctor Bismarck is a very busy man. Do you have an appointment?’
Hertzog stepped forward. ‘Ma’am, we’ve come all the way from Pretoria for one reason – and one reason only; to find Michelle Bismarck. Or to find out what happened to her.’ He smiled at her without guile. ‘All I am interested in doing is helping Alte and Doctor De Wet Bismarck find a resolution to this terrible ordeal.’ Her frosty features melted somewhat as she smiled through pursed lips. ‘We only need a moment of the Doctor’s time.’
The receptionist stared at her switchboard. She stared at Hertzog. She stared at her switchboard.
‘Please,’ Hertzog said, aiding her decision-making process.
She picked up the handset and pressed a button. ‘Doctor. There are three detectives here to see you.’ After a few moments De Wet Bismarck grunted in the affirmative. She replaced the handset. ‘You may go through.’
‘Thank you,’ Hertzog said as he walked through to the doctor’s consultation room.
Doctor De Wet Bismarck was waiting for them. Standing behind his desk. Hertzog smiled amiably. He extended a hand. ‘Doctor Bismarck, I don’t believe we’ve had the –’
De Wet Bismarck slammed both palms down on the surface of his desk. ‘Listen to me. And listen carefully, Captain,’ he said, spitting out the last word. ‘Because I’m only going to say this once.’ He fixed all three detectives with a look of pure rage. ‘If you come here again, to my place of work, I will have your badge and I will spend the rest of my days making your life miserable. Do you understand?’ Hertzog and his subordinates said nothing. And betrayed no emotion. ‘Now I hope I’ve made myself abundantly clear, gentle-men. And the next time you want to bother me, speak to my lawyer.’
‘We are concerned only with finding out what happened to the missing youths, Doctor Bismarck. Manie Botha.’ Hertzog paused for effect. ‘And your daughter.’
‘My daughter can go to hell.’ He pointed at a window as if this was where the fiery pits of hell itself were located. ‘She turned her back on t
his family many years ago. And she deserves everything that’s coming to her.’ Bismarck bared his teeth in primal rage. ‘That little whore is no longer my –’
Jools stepped forward. He slammed his fist down on the table. ‘Why was she blackmailing you, Bismarck?’
If the transition on Bismarck’s face wasn’t so dark it would have been comical. Rage turned into shock. Shock morphed into flustered confusion. Confused merged with slow smirking triumph. Triumph turned into black hatred. ‘Leave my office right now. Or I will have my brother and his men escort you off my premises.’ He pointed at the door. Hertzog nodded pleasantly and waited for Jools and Jannie to exit before he turned. ‘And tell my receptionist she’s fired,’ Bismarck said, smiling hyena-like.
Hertzog gave him one more look before he exited.
Outside he turned to his colleagues. ‘Gentlemen, I was hoping Doctor Bismarck would give his co-operation. It’s painfully obvious that this is not the case.’
‘What now, boss?’ Jannie looked at Hertzog with expectation.
‘Now, my dear detective, we ratchet up the tension.’
Jools chuckled with undisguised mischief. ‘I do love the sound of that.’
Twenty-nine
In terms of international broadcasting standards, South Africa was in the dark ages in June of nineteen-eighty-six. That year had seen the country’s very first pay-per-view TV channel, known as M-Net. This was not cable TV, however. Together with its Super Sport channel it broadcast only two channels. Yes. Even pay-TV offered only two channels. If one added the three state-owned SABC (South African Broadcasting Service) channels, South Africa offered its viewers a grand total of five channels. Not surprising, considering TV only came to South Africa in nineteen-seventy-six.
Under the oppressive administration of P.W. Botha M-Net was not allowed to broadcast news. This mandate belonged only to the SABC.
If you happened to be watching SABC 1 on the evening of Tuesday, the twenty-fourth of June, you would have seen the following report on the eight o’ clock news. Read by the Walter Cronkite of South Africa, Michael de Morgan.
‘Two youths from the little Free State town of Coffee have disappeared under suspicious circumstances. Although the teens, a boy and a girl, vanished several weeks ago, the police have only now been able to link the disappearances. Michelle Bismarck, estranged daughter of Doctor De Wet and Alte Bismarck was last seen in Bloemfontein on the evening of Friday, the thirtieth of May.’
The screen filled with a picture of Michelle Bismarck. Followed by snapshots of De Wet and Alte Bismarck.
‘Two weeks later, Manie Botha, son of Lloyd and Carol-Ann Botha, disappeared mysteriously in the vicinity of the town of Coffee.’
A similar collage of photographs now appeared featuring the Botha family.
‘Lloyd Botha is, of course, Mayor of Coffee.’ Michael de Morgan consulted a sheet on the newsdesk. ‘A confidential source has informed SABC News that the South African Police is on the brink of making a breakthrough. Arrests are imminent. Viewers with any additional information are asked to contact the SAP on the following number.’
A number appeared at the bottom of the screen.
Less than a minute after the broadcast a call was placed to the toll-free SAP number.
***
That night Hertzog stood on the back porch of the guesthouse, enjoying the bracing cold of the wintry evening air. It was a moonless night. The only illumination was the meagre light from the starry sky. In the distance the lit star on top of Signal Hill shone like a lone beacon amidst the darkness. Hertzog was about to turn and enter the guesthouse when a gunshot shattered the silence. Hertzog instantly dived towards the ground, lying flat on his stomach. Moments later the other detectives rushed out onto the porch.
‘Boss, are you alright?’ Dog shouted falling on his knees next to Hertzog. He sighed with relief when he realised Hertzog wasn’t wounded.
‘What the hell was that?’ Jools looked around, gun drawn. ‘That sounded damn close.’
Hertzog got to his feet, dusting himself off. He walked to a corner of the back wall and fingered a fresh hole in the mortar. ‘Either it was a bad shot ... or a warning.’
‘Either way it’s bad news.’
‘Not so, detective.’ Hertzog grimaced with cool determination. ‘It means we’re getting close.’
A short distance away Jack Strydom climbed into his car, cursing loudly.
Thirty
The following morning Hertzog received two phone calls. The first one was expected. The second one, well ...
‘Captain Hertzog.’ It was Major Dawid Bismarck this time.
‘Major Bismarck. What a pleasant –’
‘This time you’ve gone too far ... Captain.’
Silence.
‘I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about ... Major.’ Jools and Jannie listened with rapt attention.
‘Oh you don’t know what I’m talking about? You’re telling me you had nothing to do with last night’s news report? Do you have –’
‘Last night’s news report?’
‘Yes, Captain,’ the Major said with mounting irritation. ‘SABC News carried the story of the disappearances, including full colour ...’
‘What? How dare you?’ Hertzog raised his voice in mock anger.
‘... photographs of my brother and his ...’ Bismarck paused, confused. ‘Huh? Excuse me?’
‘I said, Major Bismarck, how dare you allow such a breach of trust?’
‘What? I ... you must be –’
‘Do you have any idea how damaging something like this could be to our investigation?’
‘Of course I ... what ... listen, you’re not –’
‘I am terribly disappointed in you, Major. I thought you exercised greater control over your officers.’
‘No ... no ... don’t you dare ...’
‘This inexcusable leak has put the investigation back several weeks.’
‘What? Well, yes, of course. But now listen –’
‘The damage is inestimable.’ Hertzog winked at Jannie. ‘Irreparable!’ He raised his voice to a near falsetto. ‘I have a bloody good mind to report you to Kompol,’ Hertzog said, using the colloquial term for the Office of the Commissioner of Police.
‘What? No ... no ... this is not –’ He paused. ‘Kompol?’ He asked, breathless.
‘Yes, Major,’ Hertzog said with finality. ‘Even Dawie Malan, the Deputy Minister of Law and Order contacted me, Major. Personally.’
‘Minister? Law and Order?’ The Major sounded asthmatic.
‘Yes, Major. You’re welcome to check the guesthouse phone records.’
‘No ... ah ... that won’t be –’
‘I assure you ... Mr Malan spent a great deal of time expressing his concern.’ Hertzog took a sip from his steaming cup of coffee. ‘He requested we discuss the matter over dinner. At my earliest convenience.’ He paused again, looking up at the ceiling. ‘The only reason I’m not phoning the Commissioner right this minute is because of the respect I have for you.’ He paused for dramatic effect. ‘I’m sure you will punish the guilty party accordingly. However, you have to know. I will not tolerate such a breach of confidentiality in future.’
The Major was silent. When he spoke it was with a hint of defeat. ‘Yes, of course, Captain Hertzog. It won’t happen again. I apologise.’
‘No need to worry, Major. Keep up the good work.’ Hertzog ended the call.
Jannie Duvenhage whooped with delight. ‘Oh my God, that was incredible.’
Jools chuckled over a cup of coffee. ‘Nice one ... old bean.’ He winked at Jannie. ‘Let’s just hope he doesn’t check the phone records though.’
Hertzog remained passive. ‘I must tell you, detective Duvenhage, I don’t like doing that sort of thing.’ He paused. ‘Sometimes, however, it becomes necessary.’
Later that day Chaz contacted Hertzog.
‘Boss, you’re not going to believe this,’ Chaz said over the speakerph
one.
Jools chuckled as he closed the door to the conference room. ‘You’d be surprised,’ he said. Hertzog had tightened their security since the revelations of Mrs Rabie’s “interest” in their progress. All files and related material were now also stored in the Land Rover.
‘Let’s hear it, detective.’
‘The news report generated quite a few calls. Most of them were worthless. However ...’
‘I like the sound of this,’ Jools said as he and Jannie crowded around Hertzog.
‘A proprietor of a local Bloemfontein guesthouse contacted the tip line shortly after the news aired. I’m going to see him in about an hour.’
‘Hm-huh.’
‘Guess what? He recognised somebody from the news report, boss. Someone that had spent a night at his guesthouse recently.’
‘Oh for God’s sake, Bosman. Tell us already.’ Jools pointed with chagrin at the handset in Hertzog’s hand.
‘It was Doctor Bismarck, boss.’
There was silence as the three detectives stared at each other with blank looks on their faces.
‘I don’t under –’ Jannie began.
‘Doctor Bismarck was in Bloemfontein on the evening of Michelle’s disappearance, boss.’ Chaz paused. Jools and Hertzog stared at each other, stunned. Jannie Duvenhage’s eyes grew large. ‘It gets even better, boss. They have CCTV footage.’ Chaz whooped. ‘We’ve got him, boss. We’ve got him.’
‘That looks to be the case.’ Hertzog chewed his lip, mulling over his thoughts. ‘Well done, Detective Bosman. You’re worth your weight in gold.’ Hertzog ended the call. He turned to Jannie. ‘What are the three holy grails of murder, Detective Duvenhage?’
Jannie smiled broadly. ‘Means, motive and opportunity.’
‘Correct. We’ve already established means and motive.’ He stood up. ‘That call has just given us opportunity. I think it’s time we brought in Doctor De Wet Bismarck.’
Thirty-one
The Man in the Wind Page 12
