The Monster's Daughter

by Michelle Pretorius

  “What are you waiting for?” Alet had trouble catching her breath.

  “Don’t tempt me, Alet. I’ve had to watch from the shadows all my life. I only have to wait a little longer.” Benjamin let her slump to the floor.

  Alet thought of all those times it had felt like someone was lurking just outside her peripheral vision. “The night at Mathebe’s house, was it you shooting?”

  The corner of Benjamin’s mouth shifted. “I wouldn’t have missed.”

  “Who, then?”

  “Seems you have a talent for making enemies, Alet.”

  “I do what I can.”

  “You must have really annoyed your captain’s stooge.”

  “Strijdom?”

  “All that talk of going to the Hawks to turn him in? Tut, tut, tut. The walls have ears, you know.” Benjamin shook his head. He brought his face close to hers. “Never let the enemy know what you’re up to. Didn’t your father teach you anything?”

  “Why are you doing this, then?” Alet spat the words out.

  Benjamin stepped away. “All in good time. First, take me to where Tessa died.”

  “You should know where that is.”

  “I don’t have time for this.” Benjamin raised Alet to her feet in one smooth motion and shoved her through the doorway. Outside, the wind had picked up, carrying smoke and ash toward them.

  “You are out of your mind. We’re going right toward the fire.”

  “Do it, Alet, or I’ll put a bullet in your skull right here.”

  As they walked, the landscape transformed into a brittle onyx wasteland. The carcass of a calf lay at the edge of the burn zone, separated from the herd, its body as black as the scorched earth around it. Alet felt her strength ebb with each ascending step. At the sound of an approaching helicopter, Benjamin pulled her behind a boulder, the gun pressed to her side. Alet doubted that anyone was looking for them, and even if someone was, the fire would get priority.

  Benjamin pulled her back onto her feet as soon as the helicopter had passed. Sweat pasted soot to his skin, his pale irises a stark contrast against his red eyes. “How far?”

  “Half a kilometer, maybe?” Alet pointed at the plateau of the next peak, where the landscape lay untarnished by the fire. “There.”

  Benjamin nodded. He gestured with the gun, instructing her to lead the way. They descended partway down the peak. The trail dead-ended in a rocky cliff, the path leading down the mountain again.

  “This is wrong.” Benjamin raised the gun. “Don’t lie to me.”

  “I’m sorry.” Alet held her hands up, hysteria threatening in her voice. “I’ve only done this once before. The path is blocked off by the fire.” She felt tired, worn out, her battered body on the edge of betraying her.

  “Find another way.”

  “Here.” Alet tapped her forehead. “Shoot me and get it over with. I’m sick of this kak.”

  Benjamin held the gun up. “Move.”

  “No.” Alet closed her eyes, waiting for the gun to go off. A blow burned across her face, the hilt of the gun making contact with her cheekbone. When she opened her eyes, Benjamin towered above her.

  “There are things worse than death, Alet. You are going to do this.”

  “Why should I?”

  “Because then you’ll know the truth.” Benjamin tucked the gun under his belt.

  Alet hesitated for a moment. She stood up, not trusting her legs to hold her. He was right. She had to know. Hatred for the man drove each step as she changed direction, going higher, trying to find a way to the other side. They had almost reached the peak when she saw a passage over the rock. It would be treacherous, but it was the only way through.

  Alet turned to Benjamin. “We’ll have to climb.”

  “You first.”

  Alet wiped her palms on her T-shirt. She tested a low foothold in the rock and hoisted herself up, reaching for a notch high up with her uninjured arm. She slipped, just as her fingers reached the crevice.

  “This isn’t going to work, Alet.”

  “Wait. I can do it.” Alet put her right foot into the indentation again. This time she launched herself with more force, abandoning caution. Her left hand closed firmly around the rocky outcrop, her right hand meeting it, pain tearing her shoulder as she yelled out. She dangled there for a moment before finding the next foothold, using her legs to push herself up. She was aware of Benjamin close behind her. If she slipped and fell, she would crash into him, and both of them would probably fall to their deaths. The thought was tempting. Alet reached the top of the boulder, her breath coming in short, shallow rasps. Benjamin followed as they crossed over to the next peak, then descended sharply to the place where Tessa had died.

  The clearing was unchanged from the last time Alet had seen it. Grass swayed in the wind, the uniform yellow marred by blackness. Alet looked up at Benjamin, words unnecessary for him to realize what it meant. He fell to his knees next to it. His arms circled his waist as he doubled over, his shoulders shaking, an unnatural howl escaping his lips. It unnerved Alet. This is wrong, she thought. I was wrong. She looked up as a figure emerged from the ruin at the edge of the clearing.

  “Pa.”

  Adriaan fired a shot, the sound reverberating over the valley. Benjamin moved faster than Alet had ever seen anybody move. He grabbed her, swinging her in front of him as Adriaan pulled the trigger again. The bullet narrowly missed them, the look on her father’s face revealing horror at how close he had come to killing her.

  “Gunning for your only daughter now?” Benjamin mocked in a hoarse voice, his arm around Alet’s neck. Alet felt his heart race in rhythm with her own.

  “Let her go, De Beer.”

  Benjamin’s arm stiffened around Alet’s throat, his breathing raspy. “She’s smart, Adriaan. I bet she’s just figured out what you’ve done.”

  Adriaan looked at her, the lies falling away, a naked honesty between the two of them for the first time, her father’s past, his raw confession of guilt whispered wordlessly to her.

  “You killed Trudie, Pa?”

  “They aren’t like us, Alet. Him, the girl. They’re dangerous.”

  “Trudie wasn’t a danger to anyone, Pa.”

  “But he is. I read about that girl in the Cape, the one who got away. Saw what she looked like. I knew he was at it again. That he’d keep going unless he was stopped. Theresa Morgan was the only way to get to him, Alet. Believe me. It had to be done.”

  “And Jakob, Pa? Did you take care of him too?”

  Adriaan pursed his lips.

  “Tell her the truth, Adriaan. You owe her that much.” Benjamin’s arm tightened around Alet’s neck.

  Adriaan nodded slowly. “Tokkie told me he saw one of the old askaris in the drunk tank. Jakob was a rubbish. Good for nothing. That boytjie should have been taken care of years ago. I almost had him that night, but he got away.”

  Alet felt a pang when she thought of what Jakob had endured. “Who gave you the right to play God over people’s lives like that?”

  Adriaan’s neck stiffened. “You have no idea what I have had to do to keep this country safe, Alet.” He pointed a finger at her. “To keep you safe.”

  Alet winced at the arrogant conviction of his words. “And Professor Koch too?”

  Adriaan shook his head. “I had nothing to do with that.”

  “You don’t expect me to—”

  “He was always a terrible driver, easily distracted. Nico would never have testified. We had an understanding. He’d be in it just as deep as I was if he talked. When I heard about the crash, I had to make sure that he left nothing behind. I sent someone.”

  “The man who attacked me.”

  “You were supposed to stay away, Alet. I made that clear. This whole mess. You ended up in the middle of it. If you only bloody well listened.”

  “How did you know about Tessa, Adriaan?” Benjamin’s tone was strangely calm. It made Alet nervous.

  “You led me to her, De Beer. That day
in Triomf. Thanks to you, I had an alias and I had a picture. Never would have put the two together myself. Tokkie Mynhardt did the rest when he posted those photos of the march. Quite a coincidence, I thought, Jakob being in the same town as your girlfriend. So I dug around. Found out who his father was, who she was.”

  “I told you years ago to walk away or else.” Benjamin pressed the gun to Alet’s temple. “Unlike you, I keep my promises.”

  Adriaan held his hands up. “Wait. It’s me you really want. Leave her out of it.”

  “Tessa was everything to me. I want to see the look in your eyes when I destroy the thing most precious to you.”

  Adriaan pointed his gun at Benjamin. “I will kill you first before I let that happen.”

  “Really think you can make the shot, Adriaan?” Benjamin let go of Alet and raised the gun without warning, the shot deafening next to her ear. She pushed away from him without thinking, running toward the ruin. Her father was on the ground, a bloodstain spreading on his abdomen, the Makarov still in his hand. He squeezed a round off past her. Alet dove to the ground as Benjamin returned fire, wondering why she wasn’t dead. Her dad fell back, his face pale. Alet grabbed the Makarov from his hand and fired blindly in Benjamin’s direction. The barrage was met with silence. She scanned the clearing. He wasn’t there.

  “Stay with me, Pa.” Alet wrapped her arms around Adriaan and dragged him behind the walls of the ruin, his blood warm on her.

  “Alet, I …” Adriaan’s head lolled. She lowered him against the wall and looked back through the doorway.

  Benjamin was out of his hiding place, coming toward them. Alet braced herself against the wall, the Makarov shaking in her left hand. Get it together, Berg. She stepped into the doorway and raised the gun. A simple click filled the silence.

  “I’m not stupid, Alet. I counted rounds.” Benjamin was in front of her, his paleness unreal against the gritty backdrop of the ruin.

  No. This is not how this ends. Alet lashed out, the Makarov’s butt making contact with his face. Something cracked. Benjamin’s hands were on her throat before she had the chance to enjoy the small victory of breaking his nose.

  “It’s over now,” Benjamin said. He pushed her down next to her father. Adriaan made an ineffectual move toward Benjamin. Benjamin kicked him away like a dog. Adriaan stayed down.

  Benjamin raised the gun to Alet’s head. “Hold on, Adriaan. Don’t be in such a hurry to leave us. I want you to see this before you go.”

  Sound ricocheted, a deafening confusion. Benjamin’s pale eyes locked with Alet’s, his mouth slightly open. His body crumpled, a marionette without strings, blood spurting onto her from a wound in his neck. Behind him, in the doorway, stood Mathebe, his uniform disheveled, his tie missing, sweat streaming down his face. For a moment they just looked at each other. Alet put her hand in front of her mouth, hysteria suddenly taking over.

  Mathebe got down on the floor next to her and held her to him, patting her back rhythmically as if she was a baby. “It is all right, Constable,” he repeated in a hushed voice. “It is all over now.”

  17

  Saturday

  DECEMBER 25, 2010

  “You should be in bed, Constable.” Mathebe stood stiffly in the doorway of Alet’s hospital room, clutching a plastic shopping bag.

  “You should be with your family, Sergeant.” Alet sat back down on her bed, dizzy from the effort of standing up. “Besides, I’m really sick of peeing in a pan.” She reached for the remote of the small TV in her room and switched off the latest episode of Generations. With only the basic stations available, she had become fascinated by the soap opera over the past couple of days. The actors flipped constantly between Afrikaans, English, Xhosa, Sotho, Tswana, Zulu, and a few other languages she couldn’t identify. It had a curious effect on her. The black people in the country had had to be multilingual for a long time, transcending barriers out of necessity. It had carried over, even though the born-free generation didn’t need to do it to survive anymore. Perhaps that was the way forward for everybody living in this country now, no matter their skin color. They were supposed to be the rainbow nation; perhaps they should all adopt a rainbow tongue. Alet thought about learning Xhosa, like Mathebe, so they could shoot the breeze on patrol. Perhaps in his mother tongue he’d have a sense of humor.

  “Christmas pudding.” Mathebe held the plastic bag out to her. “Miriam made it.”

  “Got a spoon?”

  Mathebe produced one from the bag, along with a container filled with baked pudding covered in thick custard.

  “Tell Miriam I owe her big-time.” Alet negotiated the spoon with her left hand. “All I’ve been getting here are snotty eggs and sandpaper toast. The gunshot didn’t get me, but starvation just might.”

  “How do you feel, Constable?”

  “Doctor says I could be out of here by Monday. The shoulder is buggered, but maybe with some physical therapy, who knows, hey?” Alet hoped the cheery front she put on would belie the fact that she didn’t believe a word of it. She had trouble moving her right arm. Holding and firing a gun anytime in the near future wasn’t going to happen, which meant she’d be stuck behind the service desk.

  “I would have brought flowers.” Mathebe motioned to the single small bouquet on the nightstand. It was from Theo, delivered with a courteously short visit.

  “Flowers die. It’s depressing.” Alet couldn’t hide the embarrassment in her voice. “Food is definitely better.”

  Mathebe shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Your father—”

  “Ja, I know. The nurse told me he’s in the ICU.”

  “Would you like to see him? I could go with you.”

  Alet shook her head. “He’s unconscious. Wouldn’t matter anyway.” She had thought about it almost constantly, lying awake in that hospital bed between doses of pain meds. Someone more educated in these things might have called it avoidance, but Alet knew the word well enough. What she felt was an all-encompassing shame.

  “You solved the case, Constable.” Mathebe dropped his gaze, his discomfort clear.

  “We solved it.” Alet smiled at him. “Hey, any news from the Hawks?”

  “The captain and Sergeant Strijdom have been suspended, pending the outcome of the investigation.”

  “They believed you?”

  “I offered them proof, which is better.” Mathebe cracked a smile. “Dr. Oosthuizen admitted that he drugged Miss Pienaar under pressure from the captain, as you suspected.”

  “Bastard.”

  “The captain wanted to make sure that Mr. Mens could never talk about his death-squad activities.”

  “So he finished my father’s kill. Made it look like Tilly ran him over. Two flies with one shot and he’s in the old man’s good graces to boot.”

  Mathebe nodded. “Miss Pienaar has been cleared, although she is still under investigation for human trafficking. Perhaps with her cooperation, she might receive a lenient sentence.”

  “What about Skosana?”

  “His body was discovered on the Terblanche farm, along with one of his men.”

  “Benjamin?”

  “Yes. He had been following you. Mrs. Frieda Berg stated that he called the house the night before, left a message that your father had to meet him at the place where Mrs. Pienaar had died. He had set his plan in motion and Skosana and his gang were in the way.”

  “Did Jana …?” Alet felt bad for not asking sooner.

  “Mrs. Terblanche gave birth to a son. But she and Mr. Terblanche will both stand trial if the case makes it to court.”

  “Ja. If.” Alet knew better than to get her hopes up. The complexity of what had happened suddenly hit home. She put her pudding down, her appetite gone. “My dad knew about Benjamin, all these years, you know.”

  “Colonel Berg did try to stop him. It would appear that he gave up the Angel Killer case because Mr. De Beer had threatened your life.”

  “Father of the Year.”

  “Colonel Berg�
��s prints matched the partial in Mrs. Pienaar’s house. I believe he went back to see if he could find something on the whereabouts of Mr. De Beer. He did not realize that Mrs. Pienaar didn’t know.”

  “Trudie died for nothing.” A burning sensation flared behind Alet’s eyes. Benjamin might have been a killer, but Alet’s father, the man she had idolized all her life, was the real monster. “I don’t understand how all of this happened, Johannes.”

  “Sometimes when things like these are allowed to fester for a long time, Constable, they cannot help but rise to the surface. If your father did not send you to Unie, to his old contact, he would not have noticed Mrs. Pienaar in those photographs. If he had not killed her on the Terblanche farm, we would not have uncovered what Mr. Wexler had involved the town in.”

  “My dad thought he was hiding me away. Instead he put me in a snake pit.”

  “He misjudged you. He did not think that you would go to his old colleague Professor Koch and to Mr. van Niekerk when you could not find the resources to do the job well here.” Mathebe looked almost proud of her. “He did not know you very well.”

  The dam broke, silent tears tracing a path down Alet’s cheeks. “Thank you, Johannes. For saving my life.”

  Mathebe put his hands on hers. “We are partners.”

  “How did you know where to find me?”

  “Mr. Terblanche called me. You were gone by the time I got to the house. There was a dead man in the kitchen, and no note to explain.” Mathebe lifted a brow in disapproval. “The fire took everybody’s attention, but I noticed your father among the farmers and volunteers. It was strange to me that he was there. I saw him break away from the group. That is when I lost him, but him being on that mountain made me wonder. I went to the place where Mrs. Pienaar was found. It was only a guess. If I had been wrong …” He shook his head.