by Ian Patrick
09.35.
Nxumalo had just heard the news on the radio. Another taxi assassination. Confused witness reports. Police investigating further. He realised that he was not as calm as he had been the first time. It was already three hours after the event, and yet just because he had heard the news his breathing was shallow, his pulse was racing, and he was looking constantly in the rear-view mirror as he sped down the Ruth First Highway toward the city.
He took the call as he was driving. Frankie, calling from the middle of Durban, he said. Mr du Plessis was ecstatic. Well done. Have a good weekend. No more work until next week at the earliest. Time to keep a low profile for a bit. They expected some kind of retaliation, but Mr du Plessis would be ready for that. He’d warned his guys and they are all going to be on the alert during the weekend. Starting right now.
Nxumalo was relieved. He wasn’t sure he could face another one like that for a while. But he wasn’t prepared for what Frankie said next, and it came as a bit of a surprise.
‘One thing, Colonel. Mr du Plessis wondered whether you would like to join him for a social occasion tomorrow night. A few drinks and snacks at a hotel near the beachfront. If you tell me you’re coming, I’ll give you the name of the hotel.’
Nxumalo’s mind was racing. Was this wise? Everything until now had been anonymous. Why would du Plessis now reveal himself in a public forum? Would it be wise for him, a cop, to be seen in public with this guy?
‘I don’t know, Frank...’
‘Frankie.’
‘I mean Frankie. I don’t really… how many other people will be there?’
‘Well, Colonel, that’s just it, you see. By social occasion Mr du Plessis doesn’t mean a crowd. He likes to keep things small, you know. It’ll just be him and an associate of his, and me and you and your friend...’
‘My friend? What friend?’
Frankie suddenly realised that he had pushed too far and too quickly. He was not supposed to have seen the Cat and his giant friend at Lagoon Drive last night, after all. He tried to recover the ground.
‘Well, no-one, really. We just assumed… well, Mr du Plessis assumed that you might have someone, a friend, someone you might like to introduce to him. Maybe even someone you’d like to get into the business, hey?’
There’s that awful cackle, thought Nxumalo, as Frankie laughed in a voice pitched higher than normal because of his mistake.
‘No. Thank you. No. I don’t want to introduce anyone else to Mr du Plessis. I prefer to keep my arrangement with him to myself. For now, anyway.’
‘You sure, Colonel? Mr du Plessis is very keen to have men like you working for him. Especially cops with experience. And a few big guys, too, hey? He’d like a couple of muscle-men. He’s got scrawny guys like me and ...’
Another cackle. Nxumalo was feeling very uncomfortable. It was almost as if he and du Plessis knew about his meeting last night with Mashego.
‘No. No, I’d rather not introduce anyone. I’ll come, if Mr du Plessis wants that, but, no, I’d rather not bring anyone. What time, and where?’
Frankie didn’t push it any further. He gave Nxumalo the details. They would be meeting in a private room at the Beach Hotel on Marine Parade. Saturday night 8.00pm.
As Nxumalo clicked off, Frankie immediately called du Plessis.
‘He’s coming tomorrow night, boss. But he’s coming alone.’
‘Why? Is Mashego in or out?’
‘Don’t know, boss. I had to play it carefully, as you told me. I didn’t let on that we knew about Mashego. I gave him the opportunity to bring along a friend who he thought might want to meet Mr du Plessis, someone who might want to get in on the action, but he didn’t bite. Didn’t even admit that he made the hit this morning with an accomplice.’
‘Do we know for sure that he did have an accomplice?’
‘Everything points to it, boss. Even the witness reports, according to the radio. Two big black guys. I think that the Colonel is just scared that it would be moving too fast to bring Mashego out into the open right now. Maybe he wants to bring him in only later. Work with him on a few hits and only then introduce him to you.’
‘Maybe you’re right, Frankie. OK. Let’s just put the Colonel together with the Brigadier tomorrow night, and save Mashego for later. You told the Cat where to come and when?’
‘Sure did, boss.’
‘OK, Frankie. Let’s make him feel good tomorrow night, then. And be careful, OK? I expect a fight back from these bastards out there. Two hits in one week. They’ll be coming back at us first chance they’ve got. Watch your back.’
‘Will do, boss.’
Frankie hung up, and as he was about to step off the pavement a taxi, packed full, hurtled past him and hooted loudly. He jumped back, heart pounding.
‘Jeez. Thought for a moment they were hitting back already. Bastards.’
He walked across to where his car was parked, heart still pounding.
10.10.
Ryder was in the office with Nyawula, while Cronje was handling the administrative work in the outer office. For the five minutes of their conversation so far, Nyawula had discussed petty things, everyday items. Yet he was deeply disturbed about something and hadn’t let on what it was. Eventually Ryder had to say something.
‘What is it, Sibo?’
‘What’s what, Jeremy?’
‘I’m a detective, remember?’
‘What… Oh. Sorry. Damn. Hell, Jeremy, I’m sorry.’
‘Can I help in any way?’
‘No. Yes. Well… Damn, Jeremy, am I that transparent?’
‘Yes. I’m afraid so.’
‘OK. I’ll come clean. I was trying to think of an easy way to tell you. It’s about my meeting this morning. Commissioner. Major-General. Brigadier. And a representative from Pretoria. They’re not willing for us to proceed on the hit squad stuff.’
‘Whaaat?’
‘Not yet, anyway.’
‘Why, Sibo? What’s their…?’
‘They’re terrified of calling it wrong. I know. I know, I told them this time it won’t be called wrong, we’ve got all the stuff, all of it is solid, and so on. I said everything I could. You name it… they still don’t want to run with it yet. As we started the meeting news came in from the latest taxi hit this morning in Maphumulo. That was bad enough. In addition they’d just had something in from other sources that suggests the hit on the taxi in KwaMashu on Wednesday might be part of a bigger game. Those guys Mofokeng and Gumede apparently had connections all the way to the top. And shit is starting to run straight back down again. This morning’s hit suggests a new phase in the war. They want to hold until they’re on top of that.’
‘They want us to can it? To scrap everything?’
‘No. Not at all, Jeremy. It’s just a matter of timing. They’re worried about exactly when to go with the stuff. The Shadow Minister of Police is gearing up for a major speech in Parliament, and they want to hold back until after that...’
‘Good grief.’
‘I know, Jeremy. I know. But it’ll come, eventually. It’s just not going to happen now. But that doesn’t mean you have to hold back on what you’re doing. It’s just the media stuff, the announcements, all of that, that we need to delay.’
Ryder eventually accepted the position, and having cleared the air Nyawula felt more comfortable, so the two of them got down to the task of updating where they were. It soon became clear, from the extra information Nyawula was able to feed back from his meeting, that there was further corroboration of what Ryder had already discovered, along with some new information.
By the end of their discussion, a clearer picture had emerged. The most likely scenario now, Nyawula said, was that someone high up in the system, at Brigadier level, they all thought, was working with du Plessis. Du Plessis was considered to be yet another Teflon man, and they had never been able to pin anything on him. He worked behind front men, he had his fingers in many pies, he was well connected, but he managed to k
eep himself scrupulously clean. Everyone was convinced that he was behind the growing number of assassinations. He was the one person that everyone wanted to nail.
‘And when I say that, Jeremy, trust me, the talk in the room this morning was not restricted to the idea that a low-level bunch of thugs in the taxi business wanted to nail him. There are a few people surprisingly high up in the SAPS who want to nail him. And even a few prominent people in government, too.’
‘Everyone waiting for someone to do everyone else a favour.’
‘Exactly.’
They discussed a few of the more high-profile cases, and then eventually decided that it was time to wind things down so that Nyawula could get to his next appointment.
‘Thanks, Jeremy. I appreciate your understanding and patience on this. That’s been a great help. I’ll be in Pietermaritzburg all day tomorrow but I’ll see you at the picnic on Sunday.’
‘Sure will. Fiona and I are looking forward to that.’
‘Piet told me that you and Navi are going down to Izingolweni for the funeral ceremony tomorrow?’
‘Yes, that’s right. We weren’t planning to, then she heard that quite a few of her friends were going so she decided to do so, too. And she asked me if I’d like to go and see an unusual ceremony and I thought, why not?’
‘I was told there was some problem with the funeral plans because the body won’t be released very quickly. Autopsy and follow-up stuff needed, while the family wanted the body within twenty-four hours.’
‘That’s all been sorted out, Sibo. Tomorrow is not about a funeral or interment. I believe it’s a completely different kind of occasion because the father is caribbean and very religious, and so the family’s introducing a whole new ritual ceremony to the local community.’
‘I’ve heard of that. Jamaican tradition. Nine Nights. Lots of celebration rather than mourning. And lots of rum, no doubt.’
‘That’s right. So it helps them get over the problem of not having Thandiwe’s body present for a few days, although strictly speaking they’re supposed to. I understand the body will be released in time for the important stages of the whole process, as they approach the ninth day. Anyway, tomorrow should be interesting. Mavis is going this afternoon, as you know, to help out, and although she’s got a lift going there she doesn’t have one coming back, so Navi and I offered her a lift back. We’ll tell you all about it on Sunday.’
‘I heard that Mashego and Buthelezi will be doing speeches.’
‘That’s right. And to tell you the truth, Sibo, it was partly because of that that I thought I’d go down with Navi. In line with what I told you yesterday, I’m trying to keep Mashego close, and I’d like to get to know the two of them a little better. A bit difficult tomorrow, I’m sure, but I’ll play it by ear and see if there’s an opportunity to chat to them.’
Cronje interrupted them to say he had Nadine Salm on the line. Ryder gave his apologies to the Captain and went through to take the call in Cronje’s office, while Cronje took the opportunity to get Nyawula’s signature on a few documents.
Ryder sat in Cronje’s seat and picked up the receiver.
‘Hi, Nadine.’
‘Hello, Jeremy. Sorry to interrupt but I thought you’d like this sneak preview.’
‘Oh?’
‘Yes. Pauline and I were working the Virginia Airport scene again yesterday, and you probably know that on Wednesday night we took a knife off the body of one Sipho Radebe.’
‘Yes, Nadine, so I heard.’
‘Well the reports are now in on that knife, Jeremy. And I‘ve been to visit Genevieve, in charge of the forensics guys working on the Sugar Cane Road homicide, in order to cross-check.’
Silence from Ryder, so she continued.
‘It was the same weapon used on the girl on Sugar Cane Road. We matched not only the knife to the wounds, but the blood traces, too. Then we also looked at the DNA. That nice man Mr Sipho Radebe matched perfectly to one of the five traces of semen. His two sidekicks matched to the remaining two semen profiles.’
‘So seven perps identified, seven perps dead.’
‘Exactly, Jeremy.’
‘Case closed?’
‘Well, in a manner of speaking.’
‘Uh-oh. What now, Nadine.’
‘There’s still an IPID investigation to take place, Detective.’
‘Of course.’
‘Pauline and I are going back this afternoon. We’ve got a couple of questions.’
‘You always do, Nadine. That’s why we always say uh-oh!’
‘Want to join us, Jeremy? Just a social call, of course. Say, about half-past four?’
‘Ok. I’ll be there, even if Navi can’t. Thanks Nadine.’
Ryder replaced the receiver and decided to share the new developments with Nyawula. He grabbed a coffee, knocked, and went back in.
11.40.
Thabethe and Mkhize had just met with the man called Mgwazeni, who had managed to gather two of his companions. He had spoken on the phone to the other two, and they were also in. Those two hadn’t been able to make it to this meeting but they would definitely be part of the action tomorrow. One of them had a car in which four of them could drive to Izingolweni, while Mgwazeni would drive down with Thabethe.
They had discussed the plan in some detail. Thabethe would hire a car. A fast car, because they would be driving all the way down to Izingolweni and back. Thabethe had the ready cash, and was up for it: rather than buying a bucket of bolts, get a good hired car. Mgwazeni would drive with Thabethe so that they could plan the finer details. The other four would go in the other car. Mkhize would go down separately, tonight, and make enquiries about what the organisers were planning for tomorrow’s wake, and would keep in touch with Thabethe by phone to make more specific plans.
Thabethe and Mkhize, along with Mgwazeni and his two companions, discussed in detail the kind of hit they might make on Mashego. It depended on the terrain and the crowds, and Mkhize would get that information back to them by tomorrow morning.
By the time they had covered a few possible lines of action, Thabethe was feeling much more confident. These guys seemed to know their stuff. He would only meet the other two guys tomorrow, but he was confident enough that the gang had both the experience and the motivation.
Thabethe and Mkhize had agreed to have half the amount of money for the hit-men ready in an envelope, so as their discussion drew to a close Mgwazeni received the sum of ten thousand rands in cash. The other half would be handed over in Izingolweni, in the car immediately after the hit on Mashego.
The money was a very clear motivator. They made plans for when and where to meet in the morning, and the hit-men departed.
‘OK, Spikes. Now we get Pullen.’
‘OK, Menzi. We talk to Mr Stupid Mlungu.’
They laughed and Thabethe dialled Pullen’s number.
15.10.
Du Plessis had called Frankie immediately after hearing the 3.00 pm news update on the Maphumulo assassinations.
‘You heard it, too, Frankie?’
‘Yes, boss. Loud and clear. That woman witness said she only saw one guy, but the boy says there were two men, both big. The old guy said he definitely saw two guys.’
‘But then that cop said they weren’t taking the old guy too seriously, Frankie.’
‘But boss, why would the news people interview the old guy if the cops weren’t taking him seriously?’
‘You really want me to answer that, Frankie?’
‘What? Sorry, boss, what do you mean?’
‘The old guy’s account makes better news, doesn’t it, Frankie? Better to have a couple of guys or a gang involved in a shootout. Makes a better story. You know the news guys. They go for the story, not the facts.’
‘Oh. Ja. I see. But the boy also saw two guys.’
‘Maybe he saw one guy running away, just like he was also running away at the time.’
‘Ja. OK. Maybe, boss. Anyway, now I’m sorry I didn’t pus
h the Colonel on it this morning. I should have just asked him if he got a friend involved in the hit.’
‘Never mind. We can ask him tomorrow. Listen, Frankie.’
‘Yes, boss?’
‘The Brigadier will be with us, but he’s a little uneasy. He knows all about the Colonel. Has met him personally, and also has inside information on him. Says that he knows for a fact that the guy could have been nailed by the investigators years ago, but that he had a good reputation as a cop and there were lots of people who were happy to have a vigilante as good as him and who knew how to cover his tracks. But the Brigadier is worrying about whether the Cat can be trusted to keep things quiet. The Brigadier is finding things a bit hot.’
‘How do you mean, boss?’
‘He thinks there are people higher up who suspect that he’s involved with me. His fingerprints are all over the deals I’ve made with all the security companies we own, and all over the unregistered weapons we control. So after tomorrow night’s meeting at the Beach Hotel the Brigadier and I want you to follow the Cat and see where he goes. Maybe he’ll meet up with Mashego again. That wouldn’t be a bad thing. It might suggest that Mashego was uneasy about attending the first meeting, wants a report-back, and will then consider joining us. Or maybe the Cat will go and see someone else. Either way, the Brigadier will feel happier if we know what the Colonel’s movements are, and who he goes to see immediately after he meets the Brigadier and me.’
‘OK, boss. Got you. No problem. I’ll stick to him like chewing gum on a cat, hey?’
Du Plessis cut through the stupid cackling laugh that followed his own joke.
‘OK, Frankie. See you tomorrow at 8.00 pm, then.’
‘OK, boss.’
Du Plessis contemplated the top of his empty desk after he had hung up. He was worried. These two hits by the Colonel had been perfectly executed. The guy was good. But maybe it had stirred up a hornet’s nest. Until now, he had managed to juggle both the security companies and his taxi interests, bringing in a few mavericks from the security companies whenever he needed someone sorted out in the taxis. But too many people were starting to talk. Maybe if he had a smaller team for the assassinations, and kept the security guards completely out of the taxi business, it would be safer. If Mashego was as good as the Colonel, maybe he could use only the two of them to get rid of the garbage that he had to deal with in the taxi industry. And the fact that they were such good buddies was an advantage. They could cover each other’s backs.
