The Rwandan Hostage

by Christopher Lowery

  “No. He always tells me what he’s doing, but when he says I should buy shares in a company I’ve never heard of doing stem cell research or oil and gas exploration or something else I don’t understand, how can I give an opinion? I just agree with what he says.”

  “And have you asked him about this loss? He must have talked to you about it, explained why it has happened. You can’t lose twenty-five per cent of someone’s money, especially your fiancée’s, without explaining what happened.”

  “Every time I ask him he says it’s only a temporary problem and that my account is in very good shape. He says it will be back to the normal value by September and I just have to be patient.”

  “But at the moment you’ve lost a million Euros, after your own expenses. He’s not much of an investor, is he?”

  “But he is. According to everyone at the bank he’s a marvellous investor. Last year he won the award for Best Investment Forecaster of 2009. And everyone knows that all the markets went up, so why has my account gone down like this?” She burst into tears.

  “You’re right, even I made some investments last year. It was almost impossible to lose money between January and December and it’s more or less the same this year. So what you don’t want to tell me is that you suspect something? That there might be another reason for this missing money?”

  “I don’t know. All I know is that there’s something wrong. He’s become so nervous lately and he’s been travelling such a lot I hardly ever see him, and when I do… Well, that’s something else.”

  “Do you want to share it with me? If you don’t I’ll understand.”

  “No, it’s OK. It’s just, when we first got together he was very, you know, he couldn’t get enough of me.”

  “You mean he’s lost his sex drive? He doesn’t make love to you as much as before?”

  “Hardly at all. When he gets back from travelling he’s too tired. When he’s here, he has an early morning meeting or is about to travel again. It’s over two weeks since we had sex, It’s not normal, we’re not even married yet!”

  Jenny supressed a smile. Now she no longer sounds tearful, she thought. She’s indignant; her fiancé doesn’t want to make love to her. She’s more upset about that than about the money. She said, “Can I keep the file tonight and look through it? I might spot something. It’s probably not what you think, but if you want me to I’ll go through everything with a fine toothcomb.”

  Leticia handed over the file with a palpable sense of relief. Prior to Charlie’s death she had been a housekeeper on a frugal salary. She had never had money and was still not used to handling large sums. “I trust you so much, Jenny. I’m sorry to be so ignorant on these things.”

  “Let’s look on the bright side. Our money in Switzerland hasn’t been affected. Since we settled the business with Klein Fellay it’s with Philippe Jaquelot at the Banque de Commerce and he’s doing very nicely, nothing earth shattering, but safe and steady.” Jenny thanked the lucky stars that Leticia had agreed to appoint Philippe as her manager. But, she wondered, what exactly is there to worry about?

  SIXTY-ONE

  OR Tambo Airport, Johannesburg, South Africa

  Espinoza looked nervously at his watch for the umpteenth time. It was after nine o’clock and he was waiting near the check-in counter for Coetzee to arrive with Leo. Since he had Leo’s passport the woman had let him check them both in to save time. The boy had only a carry-on bag, so they could go straight through security. He was annoyed that he’d forgotten to ask Emma for a contact number for Coetzee, he had no information and no way of knowing what was happening. The travelling and lack of sleep were catching up on him and he was having difficulty keeping his eyes open. He tried to concentrate on his notepad and was adding a new piece to his jigsaw puzzle when he heard, “Dr Espinoza, I presume.”

  The speaker was a burly, square-built man in a safari shirt and cotton trousers. He needed a shave and he carried a wheelie bag as if it weighed nothing.

  “Mr Coetzee?” He stood up, registering the several inches difference in their height and standing as erect as he could. “You’re a little late. I thought you’d run off with Leo.” He gave the South African a disapproving look, but said nothing further. He didn’t want to get into a difficult discussion when they were already tight on time for their flight departure.

  “No chance,” said the boy beside him. He almost towered over the Spaniard, who tried to stand even taller.

  Holding out his hand, he said, “How do you do, Sr Espinoza. I’m Leo Stewart and this is Karen and Abby. The whole family’s here.” Leo was understandably nervous, worried that Espinoza might not be as forgiving as his mother.

  The Spaniard shook hands with them all. “Unfortunately, we have very little time to get to know each other, since our flight will be called shortly. My main concern is to get Leo on the plane home to his mother.”

  Coetzee said, “Can I see Leo’s passport and the boarding cards? In the hurry we didn’t arrange any identification password or whatever. I’d just like to be sure that he’s finally in safe hands.”

  “Of course.” Espinoza showed him the documents. “I appreciate the professional attention to protocol.”

  He picked up his travel bag and Karen said, “We’d love Leo to come back and visit us some time. When things have settled down.” She wanted everything to finish on a positive note.

  “You can bet I’ll be back. Marius owes me a proper safari in the Kruger, I didn’t see a single dangerous animal so I can’t wait to do it properly.”

  “It’s a deal, Leo. Karen is going to sort out my company so that I can actually make some money for a change. Come back next year and we’ll do you proud.”

  “It’s time we were going, Leo.” Espinoza shook hands with them all again and went towards the fast track security gate, leaving the others to bid their farewells. He was still irritated that Coetzee had arrived with no time to spare. No time to ask him any awkward questions, he thought. Very well calculated from his point of view.

  “Please come back to see us again, Leo and keep in touch by email or on Facebook. I was really pleased to get to know you.” Abby put her arms around him and kissed him on the cheek then turned away, a tear in her eye.

  Karen kissed him then Coetzee shook his hand firmly. “Travel safely, Leo. We’ll miss you and all the excitement and mayhem you seem to create around you.”

  He laughed, “What a team we make. I start it and you finish it off. See you soon, Marius.”

  Going through security into the Business Class departure lounge Leo was wide eyed. It was the first time he’d experienced the comfort of anything beyond economy class. They settled down in a corner near a TV monitor and he fetched a coffee and a soft drink. “This is really cool,” he said, sitting back in the armchair.

  “How do you feel, Leo? Do you have any ill effects from the last few days’ events?”

  “I actually feel great, thanks. No ill effects whatsoever. It’s been a few days since the drugs wore off and Cooetzee’s made sure I’ve eaten properly and had plenty of sleep. I’m really fine now.”

  Espinoza couldn’t argue with this reply. Leo looked fit and well, showing no signs at all of illness, stress or worry. He sipped his coffee and looked at the TV screen, thinking of the questions he needed to ask.

  The evening news was on, the headline story and ticker tapes full of the successful unravelling of the triple murders in Johannesburg, Polokwane and Diepkloof. Espinoza’s attention was captured when he heard Hendricks’ name. The two minute press conference with the Chief Superintendent was almost certain to win him a promotion or a salary raise, or perhaps both.

  He supressed a smile when the policeman stated; “Working with information received from a reliable source, my officers went to an apartment in Diepkloof where they found the owner dead. He had been shot. His name will be released when our investigation is completed. We have identified the deceased as the murderer of Mr Barry Lambert, the British hotel manager w
ho was found dead earlier this week at the Packard Hotel in Mayfair.

  “Intensive detective work has also resulted in the identification of the body found on Thursday in Polokwane. The victim is Dr Antoine Constance, a French doctor, who was travelling under the name of Ernest Blethin. Dr Constance was also killed by the deceased murderer. We believe that the killer was then murdered by a male friend of his who has subsequently fled across the border out of South Africa.

  “Information from the same source suggests that all of these persons were involved with a drug syndicate based in Europe. Thanks to the impressive work of our officers here in Johannesburg, we have been able to assist the authorities there in identifying these criminals and potentially dismantling the syndicate.”

  Leo was listening, a shocked expression on his face. “Is that Nwosu he’s talking about?”

  “That’s right, Leo. Although he fully deserved it from everything I’ve learned, I don’t approve of murder under any pretext. On the other hand it has closed the case here, which is better for everyone concerned, so I suppose justice has been served in an oblique fashion.”

  “Poetic justice, you mean. And that man Blethin who kidnapped me with Lambert, he’s really a French doctor called Constance. Shit! Why would they set up an international gang to kidnap me?”

  “Didn’t Coetzee explain it all to you.” Espinoza was feeling his way, trying to find out how deeply the South African was involved.

  “I don’t think he knew what it was all about either. Does he know how it’s all finished up?”

  “Probably not. This is the first official announcement I’ve heard, so I suppose he’ll learn about it from the TV like everyone else. I doubt he’ll be very upset in the circumstances.”

  Leo was trying to hide his reaction to the bulletin. This is fabulous news! If Nwosu’s a goner there’s nobody left who knows what really happened in Polokwane except me and Coetzee. He thought about the rest of the story. Who was the male friend who fled across the border? It couldn’t have been Jamie, he’s not capable of murder.

  He decided to say nothing about Nwosu’s boyfriend, it would open up the trail to the Zimbabwean thugs’ attack and murder. If Espinoza didn’t know, that episode was a closed book. Aloud, he said, “So the whole lot of them are dead and the case is closed. Why is that policeman talking about a drug syndicate?”

  “It was the only way I could tie the three of them together and get the case closed over here. The South African police have got enough problems of their own, so Hendricks was happy to leave it to the UK police to handle the matter from now on.”

  For the first time, Leo looked worried. “Why are the UK police involved if it’s only a fictional plot?”

  “Don’t worry, they’re not and they won’t be. I was talking about Hendrick closing off the case. As far as you’re concerned the whole business is behind you.”

  “Oh, I see. That’s cool, thank you. My mum told me that you only arrived here this morning. How did you get all this done so fast?”

  “It was pure good fortune. I happened to arrive at the right time and I had some knowledge of the circumstances which led me, fortunately, to the correct conclusion. I was just lucky.”

  “So who are you, exactly? How come my mom’s in Spain? She told me hardly anything on the phone. Only that she’s at Aunt Jenny’s house.”

  “I’m just a simple detective and a friend of your aunt’s. She asked me to help, but I’ll leave it to your mother to explain everything to you when we get back.” Espinoza paused, his suspicious mind still undecided. He was an ex-policeman and he needed to know for his own peace of mind what had happened in Polokwane. He framed his next question as carefully as he could. “Most of the story I pieced together from the various parts I found out from the SA police and my other sources, but the bit I don’t really understand is how Constance, or Blethin, as you knew him, came to be killed in Polokwane. You were there, I believe. Do you know anything about his death?”

  Leo was ready for the question. He had to make sure there was only one culprit, a dead one, Nwosu. Even if he didn’t like doing it, he had to stick to the story.

  He said, “Coetzee decided to stop in Polokwane so I could get something to eat. I’d been drugged for days and I was starving. We got burgers and we were sitting in the car in this field and the three of them started arguing. Did you know they hardly knew each other and they argued all the time? ”

  Without waiting for a response, he went on, “They were banging on about whether to go on or stay the night there. The doctor got out the car and Nwosu followed him, it was pitch black, you couldn’t see a thing. Then he came back and said Blethin had attacked him and he’d had to bash him in self-defence. We got out with the torch and Blethin was lying on the ground with his head smashed in.”

  “So Coetzee had nothing to do with his death?”

  “I swear Coetzee didn’t even know about it until too late. He was really angry with Nwosu.” Leo chose his words carefully.

  “I see. That was a key point I was unsure of. So what happened next? They undressed the body and left him in the field and then you continued on?”

  “Yes, but we didn’t continue on. That’s when Coetzee saved me. They were going to take me to Zimbabwe. Apparently it’s a really dangerous place and he didn’t want anything to do with taking me there. He got Nwosu’s gun and left him behind then drove me to the Kruger to get time to think. He’s a pretty tough guy, but only with people who deserve it. He treated me really well and now he’s going to get back with his family again.”

  So that’s the connection with Zimbabwe! The conspirators must have some kind of relationship there. I was right about the car. That’s where Nwosu’s murderer came from and that’s presumably where they took Jamie. If it’s true, Coetzee certainly saved Leo’s life. Espinoza knew if Leo had been taken there he’d never have been heard of again. He decided to say nothing about Jamie and his probable mistaken abduction. Neither Leo nor Emma should ever be told of it.

  But he was still undecided about Leo’s story. I wonder why he’s so determined to clear Coetzee’s name? Is he hiding something, has Coetzee threatened him with some kind of reprisal? The Spaniard was still suspicious, it was in his DNA.

  “Where did you get the phone? The one you texted your mother with from Polokwane and Phalaborwa?” He hoped to take the boy by surprise with this question out of the blue, but Leo was up to it.

  “It was Blethin’s. I found it on the ground when they were moving his body. Coetzee told me to put it in the glove compartment. I managed to send the message but then I couldn’t get hold of it again until we were at the lodge and the battery had died. I didn’t know the messages had gone, I never got any reply.”

  Espinoza ignored this remark. “Why do you think Coetzee took you to Phalaborwa?”

  “I think he was trying to work out what to do. He didn’t want to be involved with Zimbabwe or Nwosu and he just needed time to think. He told me he’d sent the reward message with my photo but after he spoke to Karen he changed his mind. Then he drove me to the hotel and I called Mom with Abby’s phone. Nobody stopped me from calling.”

  “You’d make a very good character witness, Leo. And since the other members of this gang are dead, there is no one who can argue with your story. I suppose that Mr Coetzee was with you this morning when Sergeant Nwosu was murdered in Diepkloof?”

  “We were all together at the hotel. He couldn’t have had anything to do with it.”

  “It’s what I assumed. Well, Leo, if Mr Coetzee is not a murderer I have no intention of disturbing his life ever again. His wife and daughter seem to be devoted to him and I wish them every happiness and success.”

  “Oh, I almost forgot.” Leo fished in his case and handed some documents to the Spaniard. “Marius gave these to me. They’re from Blethin’s stuff, I mean Constance. His passport and a couple of other papers.”

  Espinoza took the documents and opened up the French passport. He assumed that it had b
een Constance who had administered the drug then pushed out the wheelchair, but he didn’t recognise the photo, the man in the CCTV clip couldn’t be seen properly. The passport seemed to be quite normal, but he would have it examined by an expert when he returned to Malaga. The other documents were personal items, a couple of letters and a bill from a McDonalds restaurant in Polokwane.

  He was composing another question in his mind when they heard the flight announcement. They walked to the departure gate, each preoccupied with his own thoughts. Leo was breathing a sigh of relief. He’d got through the worst part of the conversation, it could only get better. Espinoza hadn’t finished his interrogation but he still had a ten hour flight to find out more.

  SIXTY-TWO

  Marbella, Spain

  The house was in darkness but Jenny was still wide awake. She was in her nightdress at the desk in her bedroom studying the file of bank papers given to her by Leticia. She knew she wouldn’t sleep if she didn’t look for the problem now. To save time, she looked only at the monthly statements, starting in January 2009 when the account was still entirely in cash and the first investments began. The balance was almost three point eight million Euros, so Leticia had spent about one hundred and fifty thousand in nine months. She had told her the truth; she wasn’t frittering away her money.

  After the investments began, the value of the account slowly increased month by month, until by December 31st it had climbed to over four million. During the first quarter of 2010 both the number of transactions and the increase in value continued to grow, then suddenly in April, the value fell by a half a million. It fell again in May and in June, ending with the amount of two million nine hundred and sixty thousand she’d first been shown. She looked quickly through the statements for large sales, but there were very few. Now Jenny was becoming worried. It could only have been cash withdrawals or payments, but Leticia wasn’t spending that kind of money.

  She decided to compare the statements month by month from April of last year and in ten minutes she found what she was looking for. Amongst the first investments made by Patrice, in January 2009, were two amounts of five hundred thousand Euros each, in the names of Asian Atlantic Multi-Diversity Fund and Asian Atlantic Life Sciences Fund, a total investment of a million Euros. By September the values had already grown by five per cent and by year end were ten percent higher. But by April, they were reduced by a third, then again in May and in June they had both disappeared from the statement. A million Euros, plus the profit, gone just like that. Why?