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The African Diamond Trilogy Box Set

Page 75

by Christopher Lowery


  “You’re right. I learned in school about Bousquet’s deportation of Jews and the name has stuck in my memory. I’ve got the ending of the name wrong. Jean-Bosco rings a bell now that I think back to Mutesi’s story. And there’s a clear resemblance to Leo, tall and slim and fine boned. I’m sure you’re right.

  “So he was the man who raped Mutesi, a mass murderer. And she survived all that, only to die in bearing his child. He was Leo’s father. My God!” She covered her face with her hands.

  “Emma, that was a lifetime ago. Don’t dwell on it now. Just look at Leo. Whoever his father was, he’s a fine, clever, intelligent boy. We must look forward, not back, or we won’t make any progress.”

  Espinoza looked up from his reading. “I see Galaganza died in April in Benin, of hepatitis. Quite a coincidence that Leo was abducted in July, just three months later, no?”

  “Exactly, Pedro.” Jenny said. “You know I don’t believe in coincidences. The two events must be connected in some way. But I have no idea how or why.”

  “A political abduction? Something to do with the Hutus trying to re-establish their power against the Tutsi government?”

  “I don’t think there’s much chance of that happening. I’ve been reading about Paul Kagame, the President. He’s been in power for ten years, sixteen if you count the previous six when he was the power behind the throne from 1994. He’s the leader of the Rwandese Patriotic Front. They’re the refugees from Uganda who came back and took power from the Hutus and put an end to the atrocities. There’s speculation that he actually masterminded the assassination of Habiyarimana and sparked off the massacre of most of his countrymen. I suppose that’s one way to make your point, but we’ll not dwell on that.”

  “He’s highly regarded by the international community. They’re throwing money at the country for development and agricultural aid. The usual, ‘Spend now, don’t repay later’ funding that produces nothing except rich dictators.” Espinoza sounded irritated. “However, if we assume that the reason for Leo’s abduction is his Hutu genocider father, how did the perpetrators find out?”

  “Exactly. If we want to find out who took Leo, we have to find out who knew about him in the first place.”

  “I have never spoken about Mutesi, about Leo’s birth or his entry into the UK, not a word to anybody.” Emma said. “Today’s the first time I’ve talked about it and it was to you, Jenny, I would never have trusted anyone else.”

  “We must take some decisions here.” Espinoza put aside the iPad and sat facing the women. “Is the reason for Leo’s abduction something to do with his father, and was it instigated by his death a few months ago? If that’s our working hypothesis, then we have a starting point.”

  “I have no idea why that would be the case, but I can’t think of any other possible explanation.” Emma looked anxiously at the others. Was this the right trail to follow?

  “That’s my vote too, Pedro. There are too many coincidences involved. They have to be connected, so we have to start joining up some dots.”

  “Very well, I agree it’s the only apparent reason, but we don’t yet know the motive because we’ve received no communication from the abductors. It could be political or financial or something totally unexpected.” Espinoza’s mantra was that there can often be motive without crime, but seldom crime without motive. His whole approach to solving crimes was to identify a motive and let nothing divert him from exploring that path. “Let’s put that aside for now. My second point is more delicate. Should we involve the police, or not?”

  “Which police are you talking about?”

  “We would have to use the British police as a starting point, because of Leo’s nationality. But I would hope to escalate it immediately to an Interpol investigation. Then we could circulate information between countries and act through a higher level of police authority than Nwosu’s level. I don’t advise starting with the South African police, since we have no idea of the extent of this conspiracy. If we fall onto the wrong person, it could compromise Leo’s safety. The South African police are not renowned for their honesty, especially if the stakes are high, as seems to be the case.

  “I was a Spanish liaison officer with Interpol and South Africa is a member nation, so I could push in that direction from the UK to speed up the process. But it will be slow and complicated to get the machine moving and I’m concerned about time. Leo has been missing for two days now, so time is of the essence.”

  Emma caught her breath. “You mean the time between the kidnap and the murder, the forty-eight hour window as they call it?”

  “OK, Emma,” Jenny interrupted. “Let’s explore that possibility, because I know that’s weighing on your mind. I don’t think Leo was taken in order to murder him. It would have been just as easy to kill him instead of doping him if that was the reason. I think this is about value, money.”

  “That’s also my opinion,” Espinoza spoke with quiet authority. “All the signs point to a well organised conspiracy. We know of five people involved so far, Lambert plus the two who pushed Leo out, plus Coetzee and Nwosu. You don’t need five people to kill a fifteen year old boy. In addition, you haven’t heard from the police since you left, no calls on your mobile?”

  “None at all.”

  “So I think that confirms our theory. Nwosu is involved outside of his official capacity and he’s part of a larger group of organised people. That rules out murder but it means we can’t trust the normal police channels. It also means there are big stakes to play for. Life in South Africa is cheap, but they’ve got a large investment so they’ll want a big reward.

  “That brings us back to motive. Emma, I don’t believe you have the kind of money that would warrant this crime and if the kidnappers are as well organised as I think, they would know that. But we won’t know until they contact you. We just have to assume that it’s going to be a cat and mouse game with a bargaining match at the end. The more we can find out, the stronger our hand will be when we have to bargain, so this work we’re doing now is vital and valuable.”

  “Yes, I understand.”

  “So, what’s the decision? Police or no police?”

  “Pedro, first, please tell me if you condemn what I did in getting Leo out of Rwanda and into the UK. Tell me truthfully.”

  “On the contrary. I think you saved a helpless infant from a terrible future and gave him a loving life in a civilised country. Even if I was still a policeman that would be my opinion.”

  “But the authorities would have a totally different opinion. Leo’s birth certificate, his passport, it’s all illegal and would cause terrible problems in the UK.” Emma paused, a sob in her throat. “I’ve thought about nothing else since he was taken. Leo’s still a minor. They would prosecute me in a family court and he’d be taken from me as an unsuitable mother and put into care, or sent to foster parents. He might even be sent back to Rwanda because he has no right to stay in the UK. He’d become a refugee and I would end up in prison. I can’t let that happen. I just can’t.

  “In any case, if you have the contacts and experience you seem to have, then you will be faster and more flexible than the authorities. We have to try to find Leo ourselves and bring him safely back. There’s no other way.”

  Espinoza frowned. “I’m not sure it’s as clear cut as you describe but I agree that you can’t take that risk. We’re going to mount our own investigation, but it will cost some money, maybe a lot.”

  Jenny said. “I can’t think of a better way to spend some of my money than in getting my nephew back. So let’s get on with it.”

  Espinoza took the iPad and pointed at the photo of the genocider. “Galaganza’s our starting point and that immediately brings us to another question. If this was planned after his death and then Leo was abducted in Johannesburg, the perpetrators must have known about your plans to take Leo to the match.”

  “And if we cross reference those points,” Jenny added, “we have to identify a person or persons who knew both thin
gs; Leo’s connection with Galaganza and your trip to South Africa. In fact, they even knew which hotel you were staying in.”

  “I don’t know why you asked me to come over, Jenny. It seems you’ve worked everything out without my assistance.”

  “Nonsense. I’ll soon have to hand it over to you, because there’s a point beyond which amateurs can’t go but professionals can. Emma, I know it’s difficult, but can you remember who knew you were going to Joburg and where you were staying?”

  Jenny and Espinoza took notes as Emma ran through the persons who might have been aware both of Leo’s birth and their plan to attend the match. The cross examination continued until Espinoza said, “I think that’s enough for today. Emma must be exhausted. And I must call Soledad to tell her I’m on my way home for dinner. He pulled out his iPhone. He wasn’t about to incur his wife’s wrath once again, even for Sra Jenny Bishop.

  London, England

  Slater was on a call to someone in Nice, in the South of France. He uneasily related the result of his earlier meeting with the Voice. “I told them we can find the hundred thousand, but no more.” he ended.

  “This had better work,” was the reply. The speaker had a noticeable French accent. “It means our investment will be half a million dollars. We’re supposed to be partners but it’s me who’s putting up almost all the money. How long do you think we can continue like this?” A few moments of silence followed this rhetorical question, then, “Today’s Tuesday. I can make the transfer in the morning, but that’s the last time. If it’s not enough, they can find some other idiot to provide it.”

  “I’ve told them the same thing. They’re sending the first message tomorrow morning, so things should go faster now.”

  “Just make sure nothing goes wrong. We have too much invested to mess it up at this stage. Follow it up in the morning without fail.” The speaker rang off.

  Diepkloof, Gauteng, South Africa

  Nwosu received a call from the Voice at six thirty on Tuesday evening, just before he quit for the day. He told the man they still had no information about Leo’s birth or father, not so subtly trying to pin the blame on Coetzee for having let Emma escape. He waited nervously for his reaction.

  After the normal pause, the Voice said, “Very well. Let’s leave that for now, we may have more success tomorrow or when we get the boy into his new location. Now please pay close attention, Sergeant Nwosu.”

  He listened intently without taking notes. The policeman didn’t believe in writing things down, it could be dangerous. When the Voice had finished his instructions, he said, “All right, I’ll follow your orders, but I want to see the first payment in the bank before I do anything.”

  “Please repeat the number I gave you.”

  The policeman repeated it from memory. It was a Belgian number, +322, Brussels, but he was certain that the Voice was not in that country.

  “Good. The funds will be in your account tomorrow morning,” the Voice said. “Don’t fail us.”

  It was forty-five hours since Leo had been taken.

  DAY FOUR

  Wednesday, July 14, 2010

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  Johannesburg, South Africa

  It was eight o’clock on Wednesday morning and Coetzee was in Lambert’s office with Dr Blethin, looking at the live relay from Leo’s room. He’d gone there early to try to prise some information out of the boy before the nine thirty call from the Voice was due. Leo was in a room in the manager’s bungalow behind the main building. The house had a separate entrance so that any movement in or out wouldn’t be seen. The CCTV system he’d set up was a miniature military camera on a flexible lead which sent the images to the manager’s office by WiFi, so the staff would think he was discussing the boy’s disappearance with Lambert when he was actually watching the relay.

  “Looks like he’s in good shape, Doc,” he said. “Having some breakfast, no less.”

  “Physically he’s in perfect shape as a matter of fact. Blood pressure, heart, pulse, eyesight, everything as per normal and the blood analysis is clean; no damage done to the kidneys or the liver. We took some urine early this morning and that’s clean as well. He’s ready to run a marathon.”

  “So I can quiz him now?”

  “Just go easy, because he doesn’t know what’s happened to him and he keeps asking about his mother. It’s the emotional aspect we have to watch out for.”

  “I’ll be like a long lost father to him, OK?” He walked across to the bungalow and the nurse opened the door for him.

  “Good morning, Leo. How are you feeling?”

  “Who are you? Where’s my mum? What am I doing here? There’s nothing wrong with me.” Leo pushed aside the empty tray and sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the security chief suspiciously. The nurse had brought his case with his clothing and other belongings that morning and he was now wearing his own black tee shirt and shorts.

  “No need to be annoyed with me. I’m the guy who saved your bacon when you fainted. You should be thanking me.”

  “What do you mean, I fainted? I’ve never fainted in my life.”

  “The doctor said it was some kind of a fit, an epileptic fit or something similar. That’s probably why you have no memory of it. You were out to the world, tongue sticking out, trying to choke yourself. I’ve got training and I got you under control until they could get a medic and a wheelchair and ambulance there. You’re welcome!” He added sarcastically.

  Leo struggled to recollect what had happened on Sunday night. He remembered going to the toilet at half-time, then his mind was a blank. Did I faint, he asked himself. I can’t even remember the end of the game. “Who won the match?” he finally said.

  “Spain won in extra time, but you didn’t miss much. It was a lousy match, rough and dirty.”

  “So, who are you and what’s this place?”

  “I’m Marius Coetzee, the head of the security firm that manages the stadium. You were lucky I was nearby when it happened, or we might not be having this talk. This place is a private clinic near the stadium. We have an arrangement with them in case we have accidents or incidents during the matches and we certainly have a lot of them. Their response time is much shorter than the big hospitals and clinics.”

  “That’s a camera lens up on the wall. Why is it there? Are you watching me all the time?”

  “You’re very observant. It’s there for your own good, we’ve had to keep you under surveillance. Another attack like that could have left you in bad shape. We can’t afford not to keep an eye on you.”

  “But where’s my mother? Why isn’t she here with me? What’s happened to her?”

  “Your mother’s fine. She’s been here with you all night and day since the accident. She was so exhausted that she’s still sleeping at the hotel. I’m going to fetch her over in a short while.”

  “How long have I been here?”

  “It’s Wednesday morning, so you’ve been out for two and a half days.”

  “Shit, I don’t believe it! And my mum’s been sitting beside me all the time?”

  “She’s totally devoted to you. It’s nice to see. She’ll be happy when she comes in this morning.”

  “And we can leave as soon as she gets here?”

  “We’ll see. The doctor wants to make some more tests this afternoon and we may need to wait until tomorrow before giving you the all clear. That’s actually why I came over to see you.”

  What do you mean?”

  “Your mother told me the flight tickets you have for today are non-flexible and non-refundable and she doesn’t have money to pay for new ones. So, I want to contact your father to see if he can help, but I don’t have the details. I thought you could tell me how to get in touch with him.”

  Leo thought for a second. “If my mother wouldn’t tell you, then I’m certainly not going to.”

  “No, I haven’t asked her yet. She was too tired and I didn’t think of it until this morning.”

  “Well let’s wait unt
il she gets here and you can ask her yourself.”

  Coetzee realised that Leo was a very smart boy. He was going to have to be more subtle. “When we were talking about your accident, it seemed she didn’t much like your father. Are they divorced?”

  “Ask my mother. I just told you.”

  “It’s a question of time, Leo. I’m trying to get things sorted so you can leave tomorrow. The longer we wait, the longer you might have to stay. The flights are very full, but I could pull some weight and get you seats tomorrow if we move it along. Try to give me a break here.”

  Leo thought again for a moment. “Well, I’ll tell you what I know and that is absolutely nothing. I’ve never met my father, I don’t know who or where he is and I doubt very much that he’ll help you even if you find him. So I suppose that means we have to produce the money for the tickets in some other way. You’ll have to ask my mother. That’s all I’m saying.”

  “You mean she’s never said anything at all about your father? That’s strange, isn’t it?”

  “We have an agreement that she’ll tell me about it when I’m eighteen and that’s fine with me. Until then, I can’t help you, so stop asking questions.”

  Coetzee looked at his watch. Even if he knew something, which seemed doubtful, Leo was obviously not going to say anything further and he had to get to Diepkloof in time for the call from the Voice. He went to the door. “I’m going to get your mother; we’ll be here asap.”

  Driving across to the police station, he went over his conversation with the boy. Strange, he thought, she won’t say anything and he doesn’t know anything. What the hell is she hiding? What’s behind this whole operation?

  In Diepkloof, Nwosu was checking his bank account online. The money still wasn’t there. It was nine fifteen and Coetzee would be there in a moment. He rehearsed his lines again. It wasn’t a good time to get it wrong.

  TWENTY-NINE

 

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