by Ian Patrick
‘I’m not sure how much more I can take of this. Maybe I should drive down and just fall into the bay.’
‘Jirra, Captain, me too. Mavis and I are just turning into puddles right here.’
‘I hear you’re going to be with Salm and Soames this afternoon, Mavis?’
‘Yes, Captain. They invited me to watch the team do the ballistics on the Umdloti shootings.’
‘Lucky you, Mavis. Nadine and Pauline have air conditioning up there. What time are you going?’
‘They’re expecting me at 4.00 o’clock, Captain.’
‘Well, I hope you survive until then. I’ve never felt heat like this. All we need now is another blackout and no power for the fans. That would kill me off.’
‘Haven’t you heard. Captain?’ said Cronje. ‘There’s going to be some load-shedding again between one and three today.’
‘No. You’re joking, Piet. Tell me you’re not serious. I thought there was a timetable.’
‘I’m afraid it’s true, Captain. Two hours from one to three, they said. And that is an unavoidable addition to the timetable, they said.’
‘In the hottest part of the day. Typical. No fans.’
‘I think the fans are just blowing hot air onto us now, anyway, Captain’ said Cronje. ‘I’m not sure they’re helping at all.’
‘I think you’re right. Anything cold left in this cooler?’
‘I think the ice is all melted, Captain. Shall I go and get some more?’
‘No, thanks Mavis. Let me do it. I need a break. I need to get out into the open. I’ll be back in half an hour. With some ice, and a few more cans.’
Nyawula took the icebox. He didn’t bother to go back for his jacket. He walked down the stairs in his shirtsleeves and tipped the water out onto the tarmac. It started evaporating almost immediately. He made his way to the street corner hoping the vendor he had seen from his window would still be there with some ice and cold drinks. As he walked he thought the scattered Indian Mynas perched some distance from one another along the telephone line looked forlorn, as if they wished they could have their oppressive feathers plucked. Doubtless they were feeling as depressed about the heat and humidity as he was.
Just as Nyawula turned the corner, Koekemoer and Dippenaar arrived in the latter’s car. They parked then walked up the stairs to the office with sleeves rolled up, both carrying their jackets one-fingered through the hanging loop and flung over the shoulder.
‘Yissus! It’s like walking into a blerrie furnace, Piet. You sure you want those fans on?’
‘I think you’re right, Koeks,’ replied Cronje. ‘They’re just blowing hot air now.’
‘Just like the oke on the radio that Dipps and I were listening to a minute ago. Howzit, Mavis.’
‘Morning Detectives KoeksnDips,’ said Mavis as she switched off both fans. ‘What was that on the radio?’
‘The guy was talking about the newspaper backing down on yesterday’s story,’ said Koekemoer. ‘Do you think he could say something like Ja, it’s good to see that they got it wrong about the cops again? No. They can’t bring themselves to say that. Instead, the oke was saying Ja. Well. No. Fine, even if they got it all wrong this time we all know that the cops are still actually doing bad stuff all the time. Jirra, it makes me cross, hey, Mavis.’
‘Ja, the guy was answering phone-in questions from people,’ added Dippenaar. ‘Koeks and I were just getting madder and madder. Stupid bastards. You know, when I hear these guys calling in and criticising the cops, I find myself wishing they would be on the receiving end of a hijacking or burglary and then I arrive and say, ja, my friend, I heard you on the radio, so you know what you can do now, boykie, you can sort out your own problems because these guys who took your stuff and beat you up are actually quite nice ouens and all they need is a bit of understanding from you, and they have human rights, you know, even if they don’t behave like humans, and they need protection from those evil cops, so fokoff, my china! Just so that they realise how much they actually need us...’
‘You feeling OK, Koeks?’ said Cronje. ‘You looking as if you need a swimming pool. Or maybe a hosepipe. What you thinking?’
‘Nothing, Piet. I’m just thinking that I heard Dipps say the word actually twice there in his little speech. Ou soutie. Engelsman in Afrikaner clothing. I said it to you guys before. Dipps can never say anything without the word actually creeping in, you know?’
Dippenaar just stared at his partner, too hot and tired to muster the energy for a response. He slowly shook his head, at a loss for words. The four of them sat, melting in the humidity.
‘Where’s everyone, Piet?’ said Koekemoer.
‘Captain’s gone to get more ice and cold drinks for the icebox,’ said Mavis.
‘And Jeremy and Navi are in Umbilo checking on that housebreaking and assault and then they’re going out to Durban North at lunchtime for a meeting with Detective Mashego,’ said Cronje.
‘About the Umdloti stuff?’ asked Dippenaar.
‘No. IPID is handling that. No, Jeremy and Navi want to talk to him about our old friend Thabethe.’
‘Really?’ said Dippenaar. ‘What’s Mashego got to do with Thabethe?’
‘Well, nothing concrete, you know. But it seems like Mashego might have some thoughts about Thabethe, so they wanted to go and check it out with him.’
11.10.
Thabethe hadn’t travelled far. He bought a newspaper and headed up to Mitchell Park with a couple of freezing cold cans of coke that were rapidly dripping beads of condensation as they fought off the humidity. He found a shady patch on the lawns and spread out the newspaper before him on the ground.
He was bitterly disappointed. Abject apology from the Editor. Ryder completely in the clear. Rushed deadlines had seen an error never normally made. Misinformation from what was now suspected to be a vexatious source. The newspaper would report on police corruption where it was found, but in this case they had got it wrong.
He cursed as he flung aside the newspaper. Far from causing grief for the cop, he had merely exposed himself. Ryder would know it was him. He had blown his own cover.
He stewed in silence, cursing the cops. Cursing Pullen. Wondering what he was going to do now. Should he get out of Durban and head back to Swaziland? How could he? How could he walk away from the stash of money that he and Mkhize had buried near Nomivi’s? Would the cops still be watching the tavern? They knew that both he and Mkhize were frequenters of Nomivi’s.
He snatched back the newspaper, and looked again at the article. Then he looked at the related news item. Rape and murder on Sugar Cane Road, and four mug-shots of the four men who had been shot dead on the beach, now clearly tied in to the homicide up the hill. No names. But the four photos clearly linked to the two events.
He was shocked out of his reverie by the Samsung. This being the first call he had received on the stolen instrument, he was momentarily terrified. Was Ryder on to him already? He knew from recent experience that the cops had access to tracking systems that he didn’t fully understand. He picked up the instrument very tentatively.
‘Aweh?’
‘It’s me. Michael Pullen.’
Thabethe was shocked. The journalist again. What? How? Oh. OK. He must have simply re-dialled after the last call. Thabethe hadn’t done anything like withhold the number on the Samsung. He didn’t plan on holding the stolen instrument for too long.
‘Sorry I exploded earlier. I was very angry.’
‘What you want?’
‘You called me. I was wondering. Why did you call me again, when you knew that your story had been shown to be wrong?’
‘I was not reading the newspaper when I called you. After I’m speaking to you I’m buying the newspaper. Now I see. That Ryder, they say he’s not the one.’
‘Yes.’
‘So. Now why you call me back?’
‘Because I was just listening to the radio. A lot of people phoning in to the radio station. There are some people who say that even if that
story was wrong, they still know that the cops are corrupt, and doing bad stuff all the time. Maybe if we got it wrong this once we can still catch Ryder on some other things.’
‘You know this Ryder?’ asked Thabethe.
‘No. I met him for the first time on Sunday, and I didn’t like him. He said some really bad things to me. Him and his friends. I want to nail him.’
‘Me too.’
‘How come you’ve got a problem with him?’
‘OK. Now I’m going...’
‘Wait! Wait! I want you to know… look, maybe we can both work together and get something on him.’
‘Why?’
‘It’s not important. What he did to me on Sunday. Him and his friends...’
Pullen felt again the humiliation he had endured on Sunday. He was trembling in anger at the memory, and he felt the consequences of his error on the story. Kicked off the crime page. Treated like a cub reporter. Back to where he had been years ago. On the sports page. He burned with the desire for revenge. Or vindication of some sort. If he could nail Ryder for some other dirt then there would be at least partial exoneration. OK, so he had got it wrong on one incident. But here’s the evidence. The guy is corrupt, through and through.
‘I still want to get him. Have you got any other information I can use?’
Thabethe was silent. Was this guy simply trying to trap him?
‘No. I’m going.’
‘Wait. Wait, let me talk.’
‘OK. You talk. What you wanting?’
‘Can we meet?’
‘No! I’m not meeting.’
‘OK. OK. Let’s just talk, then. What can you tell me about this Detective Ryder?’
13.05
Outages and load-shedding would render all electrics in the building useless for a couple of hours, they were told, so Ryder and Pillay and Mashego agreed to have their meeting outside in the street. On the grass verge in Norrie Avenue, Durban North. Mashego had said there was no suitable office or room for them in the Durban North Police Station. Best to be outdoors, even if the forecast was for a heavy thunderstorm. As it turned out the weather held for them.
It was still as hot and humid as it had been all morning and all three of them had shirts that were damp under the armpits and around the collar and on the breastbone. It was blustery and unpleasant, and occasional gusts of sand flew up into their faces, but they persevered. Still better than indoors, Mashego said. Fans not working. No air conditioning.
They stood together, starting with small talk about workloads, commitment and morale among colleagues, political intrigue, increasing crime, and inadequate budgets. From time to time they each scuffed the turf at the edge of the road, aimlessly, with the tips of their shoes. A police car sped past, siren going and blues flashing. After noting the black clouds approaching in the distance, they got down to business.
‘It seems we’re both hunting the same man,’ said Ryder.
Mashego answered with no more than a simple nod, so Ryder continued.
‘May I ask what it is, specifically, that you’re tracking him for?’
‘I think he might have been a member of the gang that turned on us at the beach.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes. Really. Why are you surprised at that?’
‘Well, Nights - er, can I call you that?’
‘Most people call me that, Detective.’
‘Thanks. Please call me Jeremy.’
‘And I’m Navi.’
‘OK.’
‘Well, OK, Nights,’ said Ryder, ‘it’s just that we’ve always seen Skhura Thabethe as a bit of a loner. Likes to go his own way. We’ve known him to hook up with another guy from time to time, but never more than one at a time, as far as we know. This is a guy who doesn’t hunt in packs. More like a cat than a dog. A panther, really.’
‘With claws,’ Pillay added.
‘Lurks around in dark places alone, waiting to pounce,’ Ryder continued. ‘So we would be surprised to find that he was running with those four guys.’
‘I said might have been with them.’
‘Sure. True. That’s what you said.’ Ryder wondered why he was being so defensive.
‘What made you think that he might have been running with the four guys at Umdloti?’ asked Pillay.
It crossed Mashego’s mind that he should play the Thabethe link very carefully. These two cops seemed very sharp. If he told them the truth about tracing the Thabethe link through the clothes he found in the bush on Monday, and through the Addington connection, then they would wonder what he was doing looking for evidence on the beach after IPID had effectively taken over that investigation. But how else could he play the Thabethe link? He ended up falling halfway between two versions of the truth.
‘OK, well let me tell you what I was working on. When we chased the guys down to the beach I… well, I didn’t tell any of my guys about this, because I thought maybe it might have just been my imagination, you know...’
Ryder and Pillay were watching him closely, and they were both already troubled.
‘As we chased them into the bush, and we were running after them, you know, I thought I might have seen a movement right there, in the bush, just off the end of the road where we stopped our cars, about twenty or so paces into the bush, as we ran after the four guys, I thought I might have seen something, but, you know, the four guys were the main focus, so in the panic to get them I ...well … I forgot about that and… well, you know what happened on the beach. The four guys turned on us and we fired back at them and next thing we had these four dead guys and, well, I forgot about the movement up there in the bush, you know?’
Mashego could hear his own words as if they were disembodied, spoken by someone else. He knew, as an experienced detective, that this wasn’t reading well. But he persisted.
‘Anyway, the next day - well, I mean Monday, yesterday - I was thinking about the whole incident and then I remembered what I had seen. So I decided to go back and take a look.’
‘In the bush?’ said Pillay.
‘At the place you had seen the movement?’ Ryder asked.
‘Yes.’
The two detectives looked at him and waited for more.
‘So, I didn’t really expect to find anything, you know, but after looking around, pretty casually, really, I saw this box of tablets - a box from Addington Hospital - and well, it had a date and a name and… I thought it was a long shot, you know, but a name and a date were something, anyway, so when I followed up at Addington they told me about the connection to this kidnapping... and I believe it was you, Detective Pillay, who had put that guy - I think his name was Dirk someone - in hospital six weeks ago…’
‘I remember it well,’ said Pillay.
‘... and anyway they then told me - at Addington - about this Thabethe character, that he had kidnapped that same Dirk that you had put in hospital and… so I thought maybe that Thabethe... maybe he used that spot in the bush a lot, and that it was maybe a hang-out that he often used, you know, and had been running with the four guys on Saturday night and had ducked in the bush into that very spot that he knew well, before they all got on to the beach. So. You see. That’s why...’
Mashego ran out of words, leaving Ryder and Pillay speechless for a moment until Pillay spoke.
‘So then you called Sergeant Cronje?’
‘Yes. Well, at Addington some woman who remembered all of the details of the kidnapping told me that at the time the hospital had been talking to Sergeant Cronje about that kidnapping, so I thought I’d just check in with him.’
‘OK, Nights,’ said Ryder, ‘that’s interesting. Thanks for that.’
Ryder’s thoughts were racing. He was sure that Pillay had picked up the same contradiction between what Mashego was now telling them and what he had told Cronje yesterday. Piet had been very clear, thought Ryder, and Piet was always meticulous in reporting conversations. Carried a filing cabinet in his head, according to Koeks, who referred to him on occasion as
a blerrie eekhoring. Squirreled away everything into the recesses of his memory. Ryder specifically remembered Piet reporting that the reason Mashego was interested in Thabethe was that some colleague of his had said that if he was ever following up on whoonga trades then a guy called Thabethe was probably involved. That had been Mashego’s reason to Piet for enquiring about Thabethe. So why now the change in his story?
Pillay was having similar thoughts. She, too, was relating them back to Piet Cronje’s description of what had been said between him and Mashego on the phone. What Pillay remembered Cronje saying was that Mashego underplayed his interest in Thabethe by just throwing in a couple of casual questions because he was working on some old cases and was just looking for possible connections. But here was Mashego now, she thought, telling them that he thought Thabethe had been with the gang of four in the bush, and was a key character in his investigations.
‘Well, anyway, Nights,’ said Ryder, ‘as you know, we’re also very keen to track our friend Thabethe. So let’s keep in contact about him. If we do run him down we’ll bear in mind the possibility that he might have been with your four guys in the bush going down to the beach.’
‘And up on Sugar Cane Road,’ added Mashego.
‘Sorry?’
‘And up on Sugar Cane Road. You know what they did to the girl up there?’
‘Yes,’ said Pillay, ‘we heard.’
‘You heard? Yes. Of course. You heard. Me? I saw.’
‘Yes,’ said Ryder, ‘I believe you were up there before you got the call and chased the guys...’
‘Yes. I saw, and I also heard. I heard her last sounds. We found her just before she died. With her intestines lying next to her after they raped her. All four of them.’
Ryder and Pillay were immobile, looking at him. They offered nothing, so he continued, after a pause.
‘You remember Anene Booysen, detectives?’
Both Ryder and Pillay knew about the horrific Anene Booysen case, and nodded. In part to preclude Mashego going on to explain to them the details, which they knew all too well, of one of the worst rape and murder cases that had ever come to the attention of the public. But Mashego didn’t do that. He chose another path instead.
