Authors: Deon Meyer
Had Afrika told the whole truth? And what had Manie and Nyathi expected, as early as Saturday night, when the Giraffe came into his office and said, ‘You find any monkey business anywhere, you come to us …’? On Sunday at Greenmarket Square, Mbali had asked him why they had put
her
on the shooter case. Everyone had had their suspicions, except him.
The Hawks was another world. And he still stood half in and half out of it.
What else were they going to dredge up? Who was the person on the ministerial committee that Afrika was protecting?
This was his first sample of big politics, his first taste of being caught in the crossfire.
This country wasn’t simple.
Let him stick to his case. Henry van Eeden’s words, ‘Then I asked if everything was OK, and she said, yes, just an annoying Russian.’
And Sloet’s friend, Sam Grobler, ‘All men have a thing for Hanneke.’ And Griessel could understand that, if you looked at the photos, the smouldering sensuality.
Makar Kotko had met Sloet somewhere. And he had lusted for her, and he had phoned her. Over and over. But he was not what she wanted. She had said ‘no’.
Or had she? If he thought about the vibrator, the pornographic movies, Roch telling him about her desires: if she knew about Kotko’s links to organised crime, if she liked the risk …
No. If you compared the middle-aged Russian with his little teeth and the slicked-back hair with Egan Roch. It couldn’t be.
If she said ‘no’ to Kotko, was that a motive for murder?
Would she have opened the door for him?
That was the big question.
Maybe. If he was of economic value to her. Or to Silberstein Lamarque.
In Roeland Street his reverie was interrupted when Nyathi phoned.
‘Benny, we’re sending Bones with you to Jo’burg.’
He understood immediately. It was better like that. In the circumstances, a black detective was much more politically correct.
His dress options were limited. He hadn’t done laundry since last week, thanks to the investigation, and sleeping over at Alexa’s. His entire life was in disarray. And for how many days should he pack?
He took out his battered case. He hated the thing, too many bad memories – it was the one he had carried when Anna had kicked him out of the house back then. It was distressing that he could fit his life into a suitcase so easily. It had been the darkest of times: the withdrawal symptoms after more than a decade of drinking. Homeless, rudderless, hopeless, alone.
But not irretrievably lost.
And look at him now. Still standing.
He packed all his clean clothes. Pulled on his new jacket, so that he wouldn’t embarrass his Cape colleagues when he was in Gauteng.
Then he phoned Alexa to tell her.
‘What’s your problem?’ Cupido asked Hannes Pruis.
They sat in the smallest DPCI office that Cupido could find, in battered chairs. Pruis sat with his back to the door, Cupido only half a metre away, his face as close as possible to the lawyer.
‘My problem?’ Pruis asked indignantly, but the arrogance of yesterday was gone. The man was tense.
‘Yes. Your problem. Captain Griessel asked you about the communists. Yesterday I asked again, you and your lawyer buddies, but you knew nothing. Must have thought we’re a bunch of fuckin’ nitwit cops, who would never find out about Kotko.’
‘It really isn’t necessary to swear.’
‘So now you decide what’s necessary? You, who lie without blinking an eye, while it’s one of your people who gets nailed with a
moerse
iron blade? Where’s your morality? Where’s your conscience? Or do you trade it in when you get your lawyering licence?’
‘Kotko is not a communist.’
‘That’s your defence? The best you can do?’
Pruis moved his hands helplessly. ‘But he
isn’t
. He’s a businessman. A capitalist …’
‘You are pretty pathetic. Where did they meet, Kotko and Sloet?’
‘In Johannesburg.’
‘When?’
‘Friday seventeenth December.’
‘Go on.’
‘Hanneke and I attended an Ingcebo meeting in Johannesburg. There was a cocktail party afterwards, in the Radisson Blu in Sandton.’
‘That’s a hotel?’
‘Yes.’
‘Who all was there?’
‘People from all the parties involved. Ingcebo, Gariep, SA Merchant Bank, the other legal firms …’
‘And then?’
‘Kotko was also there. With a few politicians.’
‘Which politicians?’
‘Youth League people. Edwin Baloyi. A few others.’
‘And then?’
‘Then Kotko saw Hanneke. He came and talked to her, and—’
‘Why?’
Pruis shrugged. ‘Why do you think? Hanneke was an attractive woman.’
‘So he wanted to chat her up?’
‘That’s how it looked.’
‘Where were you?’
‘I was standing beside Hanneke.’
‘And then?’
‘When he heard what she did, he said he wanted to buy a share in Gariep on behalf of a client, and whether we would be interested in handling the contract.’
‘And you obviously said: Yes, please.’
‘It’s what we do, Captain. We handle contracts.’
‘Who was his client?’
‘Magadan Zoloto. The Russian mining house.’
‘When did you find out Kotko was Russian?’
‘That evening.’
‘In Johannesburg.’
‘Sandton.’
‘Now there’s a difference?’ Pruis did not react.
‘And when did you discover he’s organised crime?’
‘According to our due diligence ZIC was clean.’
‘And Magadan?’
‘The allegations against Mr Arseny Egorov are just that. Allegations.’
‘Oh. So it’s
mister
Egorov. When did you hear about the
allegations
about him.’
‘On Monday.’
‘What Monday?’
‘The twentieth of December.’
‘Did Hanneke Sloet tell you Kotko phoned her that Saturday?’
‘Yes.’
‘And on the Monday?’
‘Yes.’
‘What did he say to her?’
‘He told her he was coming to Cape Town, he wanted to take her out to dinner.’
‘And what did she say?’
‘She said her schedule was full. She was packing. For the move. And for Christmas with her parents.’
‘She told you all that?’
‘Yes. She suspected Kotko’s interest was … not necessarily business driven.’
‘Business driven
. Fuck sakes. And then?’
‘Then we invited him to our offices. On Wednesday the twenty-second of December.’
‘What time?’
‘In the morning. Ten to twelve.’
‘Despite the fact that you already knew about the organised crime connections?’
Pruis nodded slightly.
‘And he came?’
‘Yes.’
‘What happened?’
‘He gave us a brief to represent ZIC in obtaining a share in Gariep Minerals. We accepted the brief and discussed the cost structure.’
‘And how much was in it for you?’ Pruis looked away. ‘How much?’
‘Fifteen.’ Reluctant.
‘Million?’
‘Yes.’
‘Sweet Jesus. Did you know he phoned her three times that afternoon and evening?’
‘Yes.’
‘The man was basically stalking her.’
‘Yes.’
‘And yet you never thought of telling us? Because you’re still working on the Kotko contract, and that’s fifteen million in your pockets, and you would rather let a murderer walk free than lose one fucking cent. You disgust me, you know that? Was Kotko in the Cape the day of Sloet’s death? The eighteenth of January?’
Pruis’s lips grew thin. He looked away.
Cupido knew what the answer would be.
Cupido closed the door of the small office behind him and phoned Griessel.
‘Where you, Benna?’
‘On the N1. I’ll be there in ten minutes.’
‘Kotko was in the Cape on the eighteenth, the day she died. He had a meeting with Silbersteins and Sloet, just before lunch. Cause they had to discuss his contract. But he had the hots for her, big time.’
‘
Jissis
,’ said Griessel.
‘He’s our man, Benna.’
‘But what was his motive?’
‘Again, I think it’s rejection, Benna. She wouldn’t
njaps
him.’
‘What about the weapon that he put down on the floor? What did he want to take from her? Yesterday you asked, what did she have?’
‘Maybe he just wanted to check if she was dead …’
‘We’re going to need more than that in the circumstances.’
‘True. OK. Leave it to Beaver. Pop in when you get here.’
Cupido put the phone away and opened the door again. Pruis was standing with his cellphone, busy typing an SMS.
‘What are you doing?’
‘I’m letting my colleagues know where I am.’
‘If I catch you letting slip one fucking word about this investigation, I’ll fucking lock you up.’
‘Do you want to read it?’ He held the phone up so Cupido could see.
At the Hawks. Cancel everything for today
.
‘OK.’
Pruis sent the SMS.
Cupido said, ‘Why did he kill her?’
‘Why do you think it was
him
?’
‘Because a lot of things fit. What did she have on him?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You said you found out he was organised crime. Did you, like, use it as leverage? A bigger slice of the pie?’
‘No. We don’t do that.’
‘
Ja
, sure.’
‘We don’t do that.’
‘So why did he kill her?’
‘I don’t know.’ But Cupido wasn’t convinced.
‘I’m telling you, I’m going to get a court order for that due diligence, and if I find something there that you haven’t shared, I swear, we’ll prosecute you for obstruction, I’ll fucking destroy you.’
Pruis sat down, but the eyes flicked between table and wall. He said nothing.
Cupido took out his phone. ‘OK. If that’s the way you want to play it.’
He phoned.
‘Wait,’ said Pruis.
‘What?’
‘The due diligence didn’t reveal much.’
‘But?’
‘We were … wary. So we asked Hanneke to investigate further.’
‘And?’
‘She hired a private company to look into Kotko, in January … Jack Fischer and Associates.’
‘Those pricks? And then?’
‘They found out he was KGB.’
‘Kotko?’
‘Yes.’
‘Like in Russian Secret Service? That KGB?’
‘Yes. He was head of the KGB’s Africa bureau. In the eighties. Before the Wall came down.’
‘
Jissis.’
‘That’s how he got to know so many of our government people. And then he became Arseny Egorov’s security. In the nineties.’
‘His enforcer.’
‘Something like that.’
‘And that’s it?’
‘No.’
‘So talk to me.’
‘Apparently he liked to torture people. Back then.’
‘Torture?’
‘That’s right. When he interrogated them.’
‘How?’
‘With a bayonet. In the anus.’
In Brigadier Manie’s office Cupido brought them up to date with the latest information.
For the first time since the investigation had begun, Griessel felt the old stirring, his instinct kicking in. This was the one.
‘The lawyer said Sloet knew about the KGB background,’ said Cupido. ‘He said Sloet did the investigation, she got the report from Jack Fischer and Associates. But he couldn’t see why Sloet would want to blackmail Kotko with this. She was the kingpin of the whole contract, Kotko gave his business to Silbersteins because he fancied her so much.’
‘In any case that is all circumstantial evidence,’ said Manie. ‘There is nothing that can be used in court.’
‘Jack Fischer and Associates must have got the information about the bayonet from a source, Brigadier,’ said Griessel. ‘We will have to find out who that was.’
‘Jack Fischer is not a friend of the SAPS any more,’ said Manie dubiously.
‘There are other ways too,’ said Griessel. ‘If Kotko likes blades, somewhere in Johannesburg there will be someone who knows. He will have a pattern.’
‘You will have to put him through the grinder, Benny,’ said Nyathi.
‘Yes, sir.’
Manie was still sceptical. ‘He was KGB. He won’t be scared of questioning. And he has connections. We will have to place him at the murder scene. Forensically.’
They all knew they had nothing at the moment that would do that.
‘Do we have enough for a search warrant?’ Nyathi asked. ‘For his house and his office?’
‘Not yet,’ said Manie. ‘Let’s see what happens in the next few hours. Which brings us to the shooter. Werner, how many people do you have available?’
‘Half of the team is at Table View, Brigadier,’ said du Preez.
‘I have a feeling …’ said Manie. ‘There are a bunch of old detectives at Jack Fischer and Associates. Perhaps with a grudge against the SAPS. They investigated Kotko, they could have come across proof of the payment to John Afrika. Get a personnel list for Fischer’s and give it to IMC, let them cross reference to triple-two rifle owners, Kia vans. Anything.’
‘I want IMC to look at Fischer’s Internet records. It would have logged if someone used an anonimail account. And I will go talk to Jack Fischer, after I’ve questioned Pruis,’ said Mbali, the light of battle in her eyes.
‘I think we should send Oom Skip Scheepers,’ said Manie. ‘Why, sir?’ she asked indignantly.
‘Because Jack Fischer is ex-SAPS. And he was Jack Fischer’s commanding officer, years ago. We will have to use honey, Mbali. We’re working against the clock, we don’t have time for vinegar.’
She nodded, but she wasn’t happy.
‘Brigadier, I want to book Pruis. For obstruction,’ said Cupido.
‘Give him more rope,’ said Manie. ‘It’s better to use it as leverage. For now.’
‘We have to go, Brigadier,’ said Griessel. ‘Our flight is at ten o’clock.’
Manie nodded. ‘I’ll talk to the
manne
up there in the meantime, Benny, to get the timing of this thing right. It’s going to take some fancy footwork. Hopefully we will have something on the table when you get there. But good luck. And good hunting.’
Mbali and du Preez asked Hannes Pruis to accompany them to the CATS interrogation room. It was cold as they walked down the corridors, but Pruis took his jacket off. There were sweat stains under his arms and down his back.