The man said something in Chinese, so Liz rolled down the back window and explained what they needed. There were a few exchanges between them before he returned his attention to Mabaku.
“You wait, please,” he said. Returning to his post, he grabbed a phone and had an agitated conversation. Eventually, he hung up and let them through, pointing toward the administration block.
The constables remained at the gate, and the others headed for reception. Hong met them there and carefully checked their identification himself. “Director Mabaku, why this?” He struggled for a few seconds to find the right words, until Liz said something to him in Chinese. He turned to her with relief, and Liz translated for Mabaku. “Mr. Hong asks what this is all about? He is very busy this morning and would have preferred that you phoned for an appointment.”
“We want to speak to Mr. Shonhu,” Mabaku said.
Hong frowned and responded in Chinese. Liz said, “Mr. Hong asks why you want to see Mr. Shonhu. He says that if it’s a matter concerning the mine, he can answer all your questions.”
“It is not about the mine. It’s a matter involving Mr. Shonhu personally,” Kubu interjected.
Hong looked from one to the other. “I call him to my office,” he said slowly in English.
“Just take us to him,” Mabaku instructed.
Hong hesitated, then nodded and signaled for them to follow. When they reached the office, Shonhu looked up from his laptop with surprise, and there was a quick exchange between him and Hong before Shonhu turned to the detectives. “We go to meeting room,” he said. “Then you explain what you want.”
You’re the one who’ll be doing the explaining, Kubu thought, as they all moved to a bigger office.
“We want to speak to Mr. Shonhu alone,” said Mabaku, dismissing Hong. The mine manager protested but left when Mabaku insisted.
“Now, what do you want?” Shonhu looked from Kubu to Mabaku and back.
Mabaku let Kubu take the lead. “Mr. Shonhu, would you tell us what you were doing on Sunday afternoon?”
“I was at kgotla with Mr. Hong. You saw me there.”
“And after that?”
“After that, I came back here.”
“Did you meet a woman after the kgotla?”
Shonhu shrugged. “Perhaps I saw a woman. What is this about?”
“You met a woman for sex. Is that right?”
Shonhu frowned. “She is my girlfriend.”
Kubu consulted his notebook. “She’s not your girlfriend. She claims that you pay her to be your woman. But she won’t let you tie her to the bed. When she refused again yesterday, you assaulted her, punched her in the face, and kicked her.”
“No! Never hit her.”
“Let me ask again. Did you hit her when she refused to let you tie her up?”
“No. Never hit anyone.”
Kubu took a sheet of paper from a folder. “This is a copy of the doctor’s report. She confirms damage to the left eye and bruises on the face. So the woman is not making the story up. She was viciously attacked. Also, she gave a very accurate description of you in the complaint. Are you sure you don’t want to reconsider your story? It will be best if you admit you did it.” He shrugged. “Perhaps something can be worked out.”
But Shonhu didn’t take the bait. He shook his head firmly. “This is all bullshit! She fell over a table. You waste time on this woman’s lies? You have nothing important to do? I’m busy!” He stood up as if to leave.
“Sit down, Mr. Shonhu,” Mabaku said. “We’re not finished.”
For a moment, Shonhu looked as though he would ignore Mabaku, but then he sank back into his seat. “What else?” he demanded.
“Where do you live?”
“At the Chinese village down the road. All the Chinese people live there.”
“Take us to your house,” Mabaku told him. “We need to search there.”
Shonhu jumped up again. “Search my rooms? What for? This is bullshit!”
“Nevertheless, we want to take a look.”
“No! It’s private. You don’t go there.”
Mabaku dug in his jacket pocket and passed the search warrant to Shonhu, who glanced at it, then threw it on the floor.
“You don’t understand,” he said angrily. “This is Chinese mine. China is big.” He demonstrated with wide-open arms. “Botswana is small.” He used thumb and forefinger to show how small. Then he squeezed them together as though crushing an insect. “Don’t fuck with me!”
Mabaku jumped to his feet. “Mr. Shonhu, I’m arresting you for the assault of a Motswana woman. We don’t allow assault in little Botswana, whatever you do in big China!”
Shonhu ignored him and moved toward the door. Kubu also jumped up, moving surprisingly quickly for his bulk.
“Get out my way, fat man!”
But Kubu stood firm. He was holding his service pistol and was ready to use it. I’m no match for him in a fight, he thought. If he rushes me, I’ll have to shoot.
He felt his heart pounding, but the gun was steady in his hands.
When he saw the gun, Shonhu froze. A moment later, Mabaku had a handcuff on his left wrist and dragged the arm behind his back. The snap of the second cuff closing on his right wrist signaled the end of it. Kubu lowered the gun and let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.
Mabaku turned to Liz, who had pressed herself against the far wall. This wasn’t the usual fare at Foreign Affairs. “Go and call the constables,” he said to her. “They can take him to a nice, small Botswana jail.”
She nodded and slipped out of the room.
Mabaku focused on Shonhu again. “Now, Mr. Shonhu, you are under arrest for the assault of Bongi Modongo. You don’t have to say anything, but anything you do say will be noted and can be used in evidence at your trial.”
Shonhu just glared at him.
* * *
ONCE THE CONSTABLES had dragged the still protesting Shonhu out of the building, Mabaku asked the shocked receptionist to call Hong. He appeared a few moments later, looking flustered and upset. “Where Shonhu?” he began. “What—”
“Let’s go to your office,” Mabaku interrupted.
Once there, the director explained that Shonhu was being held for the assault of a woman after the kgotla. It was slow going since everything had to go through Liz, but during the conversation, Hong’s loud interjections and head shakings slowly gave way to puzzlement. At last Liz said, “Mr. Hong says that he is very surprised and shocked and doubts that Mr. Shonhu would behave in this way. Nevertheless, he understands the position.”
Mabaku nodded. He asked a variety of questions about where Hong was after the kgotla and what he’d seen. It turned out that Hong had been talking to the ambassador in private about the mine expansion, and Shonhu had been left on his own to drive the car back.
There was a pause, and then Mabaku said, “Tell Mr. Hong that we’re concerned that Mr. Shonhu has behaved badly before with women. Also, ask him if he knows where Mr. Shonhu was on the night of February sixth.”
Liz did as he asked, and they could see that Hong was disturbed by this new line of questioning. “Thursday three weeks ago,” Mabaku prompted.
Hong sat very still, his hands folded in his lap. At last he shook his head and replied.
“Mr. Hong says that he and Shonhu always play mah-jongg together on Thursday nights,” Liz translated. “They haven’t missed a game for a long time. So Shonhu was here on the evening of the sixth.”
So Mabaku was right, Kubu thought. They are in it together. Hong has given Shonhu an alibi, and, no doubt, Shonhu will return the favor for Hong.
Mabaku nodded. “Thank you, Mr. Hong. That is very helpful.” He stood up. “We will need to take Mr. Shonhu’s computer with us, and we want to search his house.” Liz translated, and Hong burst into a stream of Chinese with more head shaking. Mabaku didn’t wait for the translation but took out the search warrant and passed it to Liz. “Read it to him in Chinese. Tell him
that men who beat up women often leave a trail of pornography sites on the Internet. That is why we want the computer.”
Liz did as he requested, and Hong was speechless by the end of it. At last he nodded and led the way back to Shonhu’s office. Kubu picked up the laptop and asked Hong how to find Shonhu’s house. Hong muttered directions to Liz and offered to send someone with them, but Kubu brushed that aside. “We’ll find it,” he said. He didn’t want Hong’s people watching over his shoulder.
As they headed back to the car, Liz whispered to Kubu, “I’m very impressed that the police are going to so much trouble to catch a man because he beat a woman, even if she was a prostitute. I’m glad to be helping you with this.”
Kubu just smiled. He suspected that Samantha would have a few things to say about this comment if she were present.
* * *
MABAKU COMMANDEERED ONE of the constables and followed Liz’s directions to the Chinese compound, not far from the mine. Again they were stopped by a guard at the entrance.
“He says no one can come into the compound here unless they are with one of the residents,” Liz told them.
“Tell him to open the gate at once!” Mabaku said angrily. “Who do these people think they are?”
“I told him,” Liz replied. “But he says he doesn’t care. He says we must go back to mine reception.”
“Tell him to open the gate or he’ll be arrested!”
The man listened to Liz but then shook his head firmly and started walking away.
“You open it,” Mabaku instructed the constable.
The man clambered out and started pushing the gate, but there was a shout, and he turned around to find the guard holding a gun on him. Mabaku was too flabbergasted to react, but Kubu grabbed his service pistol and aimed it at the guard.
“Tell him to drop the gun,” he said to Liz. She shouted something in Chinese, and the man looked around. When he saw Kubu’s gun, he hesitated. Liz shouted again, and he lowered the pistol.
“Tell him to drop it,” Kubu said. A third shout, and the man did as he was told. The constable ran over to him and handcuffed him, none too gently, and scooped up the gun.
“Tell him he’s under arrest,” Mabaku said. Liz did so, and the man just nodded as they led him to the car and cuffed him. He sat there with his shoulders slumped.
In fact, he turned out to be useful. He knew where Shonhu lived and walked them there from the gate. And he had a master key to let them in. After that they sent him back to the car with the constable, while Kubu, Mabaku, and Liz entered the small prefabricated building.
The house comprised a small lounge with two easy chairs and a table, a bedroom with a single bed and built-in cupboard, a bathroom with a shower and toilet, and a small kitchenette. Probably very luxurious by Chinese standards, Kubu thought as both detectives pulled on latex gloves.
Mabaku made his way to the bathroom. He recognized toothpaste, shampoo, and a packet of condoms, but the small medicine cabinet contained a variety of other items all labeled in Chinese characters. Since he had no idea what might be of interest, he decided to collect everything, packing it all into evidence bags.
Kubu started in the lounge area. He lifted the chair cushions and felt around the edges of the furniture. There was nothing there.
On the table was a cardboard box with the remains of a Chinese meal. Perhaps he doesn’t enjoy his own cooking, Kubu thought. There was also a framed picture of a proud young man in military uniform between an older man and woman. Young Shonhu with his parents, Kubu surmised.
There was nothing of interest in the kitchen area either, so he moved to the bedroom and opened the cupboard. The right half was shelves, neatly packed with clothes. He sorted carefully through them but found nothing there either.
The left side was hanging space, containing several jackets and pairs of slacks. Below them was a selection of shoes on a shelf. There was also a pair of boots. Kubu picked them up and turned them over. They were made in China. He took a deep breath. Could these be the boots Zanele was looking for? The boots his father’s murderer had been wearing? He put them carefully into a large evidence bag.
He noticed that the shoe shelf was above the floor of the room by about six inches, but the shelves on the right side reached down almost to the floor. That’s odd, he thought.
Kubu asked Mabaku to join him. “Why do you think the shoes aren’t at floor level?” he asked.
“Maybe something to do with the plumbing? The bathroom’s behind that wall.”
Kubu took a look in the bathroom. “No, the pipes are on the outside wall,” he told Mabaku. He returned to the cupboard and took out the shoes and boots one by one. Then he examined the bottom of the cupboard carefully. It felt a bit loose, but then so did one of the doors and some of the shelves. Poor workmanship had gone into the building of the compound. Kubu pulled the clothes out of the bottom shelf and put them on the bed. Then he examined the screws holding the shoe shelf in place. One was loose to the touch, and the other had a fresh scratch. Mabaku, spotting what Kubu was up to, dug in his jacket and came up with a Leatherman. He passed it to Kubu, who battled to find the screwdriver on it. At last it clicked out. Do-it-yourself was hardly Kubu’s thing, but he had no trouble removing the screws, and the shelf lifted out at once.
“Look at this, Director,” he said. Mabaku came over and examined the exposed space. It contained several small boxes, a packet of latex gloves, and some clothing, including a ski mask. Kubu picked up the top box—surprisingly heavy—and opened it. It contained a pistol of a make he didn’t recognize and several boxes of 9 mm ammunition. Mabaku opened another box and found that it contained a variety of knives. He closed the box with a snap. “I want Zanele and her people to go through everything here. We’ll leave the constable here to prevent anyone entering the room. You can sit in the back to keep an eye on the guard until we get him to the Shoshong police station.” Kubu nodded as he packed the contents of the compartment into evidence bags and stowed them in a duffel bag.
“A good morning’s work, Kubu. We can add possession of a firearm to the charges against Shonhu.” Mabaku smiled. “Our Mr. Shonhu is in very, very deep trouble,” he added with relish.
CHAPTER 51
On Tuesday afternoon, after Jasmine had formally identified him, Shonhu was driven to Gaborone in the back of a police van. He cursed and struggled as he was taken into the Gaborone police station, resulting in a few bruises from the unsympathetic constables. There, he was charged with the assault. He was fingerprinted, and more hair samples were taken. After that he was left to fume in a cell—a small one—while Forensics worked through all the potential new evidence. Several promising liquids found in his house were sent for analysis. His clothes and shoes were checked for bloodstains, the boxes hidden in the cupboard were examined for fingerprints, and the knives were checked for both. The handgun was of Chinese manufacture, and they fired multiple rounds through it to see if there was a match with any of the bullets recovered from a variety of crimes.
Despite his impatience, Mabaku left Shonhu to stew on Wednesday. The director wanted to gather as much forensic evidence as possible before they confronted him with it. Mabaku hoped that, faced with what they’d found, he’d break down and confess. Then Hong and Mopati would go down too.
By Thursday morning, they thought they had enough. Mabaku and Kubu agreed to meet at nine, plan the interview, and then grill Shonhu. Both felt confident about the outcome. But as they were walking to the interview room, Miriam ran up behind them, calling to the director.
Mabaku stopped. This wasn’t at all the way Miriam normally operated. She was organized and efficient, and she knew they had a crucial interview ahead.
“I’m sorry, Director,” she told him. “I just had a call from the commissioner. He’s been summoned to the president’s office, and he wants you there.”
“When is this? What’s it about?”
“In half an hour, Director. He didn’t say what it’s a
bout. Just to make sure you were there.”
Mabaku swore. He’d been looking forward to seeing Shonhu squirm, but he had no option. “Kubu, I don’t want to delay things anymore. Next thing, Shonhu will get out on bail. Grab Edison and take him with you. Best if there are two people, but you handle the interrogation. Shonhu’s hired a lawyer now. A good one.”
* * *
WHEN KUBU ARRIVED at the interview room, he was not pleased to see the lawyer. He’d had dealings before with Jeffrey Davidson, widely regarded as Botswana’s best criminal defense attorney. Kubu had seen more than one guilty man walk free after Davidson’s intervention. But Zanele’s people had been working flat out for the last day and a half. Shonhu and Davidson had some unpleasant surprises ahead.
Kubu gave Davidson a terse greeting and introduced Edison. Then the two detectives seated themselves opposite Shonhu, who was sitting handcuffed and not looking happy. Kubu was pleased about that.
“Mr. Shonhu, this interview is being recorded,” he began. “You’ve already been cautioned, and you have your lawyer present. You’ve been charged with assault, but we want to interview you about another matter—the murder of Goodman Kunene.”
Before he could continue, Davidson held up his hand. “Assistant Superintendent, my client is already charged with a serious crime. I think we need to discuss that before we start on something new.”
“There’s nothing to talk about. The director gave you a file specifying the details of the crime. You can read the victim’s statement. And you can see the pictures of the woman’s injuries.”
“I’ve seen the pictures and read the statement from this Jasmine woman. Certainly her face shows signs of bruising. The issue is whether they were caused by my client.”
“She identified him, and the police saw his car outside her house!”
“Yes. So she did, but, of course, Mr. Shonhu claims she fell over a coffee table and hit her head. We also want to know why there was a policeman waiting next door. It seems that my client was set up by the police and this woman so that you could get him into custody to grill him about this other matter.”
A Death in the Family Page 24
