Blood Safari

48

‘Were you there? In the Kruger Park in eighty-six?’

‘I was there.’

‘Who was the man with the moustache with you? The one who burned Pego Mashego?’

‘That was our Chief of Security.’

‘What is his name?’

‘Does it matter?’

‘It matters that you keep your part of our agreement, Quintus.’

His eyes drifted for a fraction of a second to the video camera in the ceiling. Then he said in resignation, ‘Christo Loock.’

‘What does he do now?’

‘He is the Senior Manager of Human Resources.’

‘Talented guy. Who were you working for when Machel died?’

‘I don’t quite follow your meaning.’

‘Who contracted you? Who hired you to do it?’

‘It was our own idea.’

‘I don’t believe it.’

‘You will have to. It’s the truth.’

‘Why would a company that builds electronic systems want to assassinate the president of a neighbouring country?’

‘Because we could, Lemmer. Because we could.’

He leaned back in his chair. ‘You must understand the circumstances. When Nico and I left Armscor in 1983, we weren’t popular. There were accusations that we didn’t want to serve The Firm any more, that we were money-grubbers because we wanted to set up on our own. The thing that saved us was our knowledge. Excuse me if I sound arrogant, but we were the best of the best. They had to use us. But reluctantly. And frugally. Only when there was no other option.’

He stood up and went over to the windows. ‘I admit that the accusations weren’t entirely unfounded. We were financially ambitious.’

He looked out and folded his hands behind his back. I wondered whether he thought it looked dignified, the gesture of The Chairman. ‘One of the reasons we left Armscor was that a parastatal institution seldom rewards performance over mediocrity. We’d had enough of that.’

‘Get to the point, Quintus.’

‘Forgive me. The fact of the matter is you can’t run a technology company without capital. Research costs money, lots of money. We needed something to, shall we say, take our relationship with the government to another level. How? That was the question. But the Lord provides, Mr Lemmer, I don’t know if you’re a believer, but need teaches one to pray, and prayers are heard. I learned that.’

He realised that he was wandering and turned to stand with his back against the window, so the light made a halo around him. His eyes were elsewhere in the room.

‘It was no coincidence that within the span of three days I heard about the government’s dilemma with Samora Machel, and the Israelis’ technology. It was providence. It was ordained. Nevertheless, we were working closely with the Israelis on several levels. We heard about their progress with VOR technology. That stands for very high frequency omnidirectional radio. Aircraft use it for navigation. A VOR beacon sends out a signal identifying which beacon it is as well as the pilot’s orientation to the beacon in relation to magnetic north. Are you with me?’

‘I understand you.’

‘The Israelis developed the technology to create a false VOR, indistinguishable from the real McCoy. I will never forget it, Mr Lemmer. I was driving home late that night. When I pulled up in front of the garage all the parts seemed to come together. The minister’s remarks about Machel, how it would be in the interests of the whole of Africa if he would just disappear. Then the new technology from Israel. I realised that there was a way. It would solve many problems.’

‘So you offered your services.’

‘That is correct.’

‘So you could get into their good graces.’

‘In a manner of speaking.’

‘Although it would be murder?’

‘Murder? Mr Lemmer, we were at war. Samora Machel was a communist, an atheist waging a civil war on the people of his own country with the help of the Soviets. He was detaining, torturing and executing his own subjects without benefit of trial, a dictator harbouring terrorists, so he could destabilise the entire region while Russia sat and waited.’

‘Now those same “terrorists” are members of the board.’

‘The fall of communism changed everything.’

‘I see. And what about Jacobus le Roux? He was neither a communist nor an atheist.’

‘He was there. My heart goes out to him; it was all unnecessary, a tragic clash of circumstances. Sometimes, Mr Lemmer, the fate of nations takes precedence over the individual. Sometimes one has to make difficult decisions, very difficult decisions, in the interest of the greater good.’

‘Or the greater profit,’ I said.

He came away from the window and walked past me to the desk. He crossed his arms and said, ‘Who are you to judge?’

‘I suppose you’re right, Quintus.’

He nodded and went to his chair. ‘What else do you want to know?’

‘Where were you when the plane crashed?’

‘On Mariepskop. At the radar station.’

‘And when they murdered Johan and Sara le Roux?’

‘It was a car crash.’

‘Where were you?’

‘I don’t remember.’

‘Really?’

‘That’s right. Is there anything else, Mr Lemmer?’

‘I think I understand the rest. What I don’t understand is why you are prepared to leave Jacobus now, to let him talk.’

‘He won’t want to talk now.’

‘Oh?’

‘Mr Lemmer, the day he walked into the witch doctor’s hut and gunned down those people, he ceased to be a threat.’

‘Then why attack Emma?’

‘We were just lucky.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘At that stage we were not monitoring her calls. We didn’t feel that it was necessary any more. When we heard that Cobie had murdered a witch doctor, we started listening to the police telephones, mostly to keep up with events. We heard Emma phoning. We knew then that she would be the new risk, if she should succeed in tracking down Jacobus.’

‘But are you prepared to guarantee her safety now?’

‘It depends on what her brother tells her. Or you. Should she recover fully, of course.’

‘Of course.’

‘Her safety is in your hands.’

‘Unless I break your neck now.’

He looked up at the video camera. ‘I think that would be very foolish.’

I got to my feet. ‘Quintus, I want you to understand me very well. If the case against Jacobus does not go away, I will be back. If anything happens to him or Emma, ever, I will be back. I will show you, then, what kind of a coward I am.’

He nodded, not impressed. Then he leaned forward and swivelled the laptop so I could see the screen. ‘Mr Lemmer, keep one thing in mind. Should anything happen to me, the following material will be handed over to the authorities.’ He clicked a key and an image appeared on the screen in high resolution. I was standing in front of him with my back to the camera and I hit him. He fell back against the glass and sank to the ground.

Jeanette moved in between us and shoved me away. ‘Leave him.’ Her voice was as clear as glass.

‘I’m going to kill him.’

Wernich froze the image on the frame, leaving me standing over him and Jeanette restraining me.

‘Good sound quality,’ I said.

‘Our technology is top drawer.’

I had been leaning against the Porsche for ten minutes before Jeanette strolled up and unlocked the door. ‘Let’s go.’

Only once we were both seated did she take a DVD out of her pocket and drop it casually on my lap. ‘There you are,’ she said.

‘Did you have any difficulty?’

‘There’s nothing like a nine-millimetre against a man’s head to make him listen,’ she said.

‘You’re wilder than a wild dog.’ I plagiarised Dr Koos Taljaard’s phrase.

She merely laughed, started the Porsche and drove off. Then she described it.

She had waited until I went into Wernich’s office before asking Louise where the video control room was. At first Louise wouldn’t cooperate. Jeanette threatened to break her fingernails. ‘Her eyes were this big. Like I was some kind of barbarian.’

Louise reluctantly led her to the room to the rear of the building, the door unmarked. The secretary merely pointed a finger and walked away with huge dignity.

Jeanette had opened the door. The room was half dark, not very big. There was a bank of television screens encircling a man behind a control panel. The man was broad and strong with a bushy moustache; the hair that touched the top of his ears and collar was grey at the temples. She pointed the Colt at him and said, ‘Who are you?’

‘Loock.’ He looked her up and down and said, ‘You are Louw.’

‘Only when I’m not high.’

He wasn’t amused. ‘What do you want?’

‘Turn up the sound a bit, so we can hear what the men are saying.’ She gestured at the screens that displayed Wernich and me in his office.

They listened to our exchange and watched silently in the twilight of the room up to the point where I left. ‘I want a copy of that, please,’ she said

He had snorted with disdain. She shot a hole through the first monitor.

‘I didn’t hear anything,’ I said.

‘His place is soundproof and dustproof. Probably waterproof too. Well, not any more. I had to damage the roof as well before he would make that DVD.’

She had shot three screens and a hole in the roof before he unhurriedly and mechanically burned a copy of the recording on a DVD. Then she hit him on the cheekbone with her Colt as hard as she could. His head jerked back and blood ran down his moustache.

‘He lifted his head and looked at me like a python at a spring-hare.’

‘Thanks, Jeanette.’

‘No, Lemmer, I’m the one who should say thank you,’ she said, and grinned in self-satisfaction.

I phoned B. J. Fikter. He said Jacobus le Roux had been talking to Emma for the past two hours. The police guard had been withdrawn.

‘I’ll come and relieve you tomorrow,’ I said.

‘Thank God,’ he said, and ended the call.

‘What now?’ Jeanette asked.

‘Now we are going to get your lovely receptionist, Jolene Freylinck, to make us a copy of this DVD.’

‘Only one?’

‘That’s all we need.’

‘Lemmer, I don’t agree. We ought to give one to each prospective member of his BEE board.’

‘Why? So they can fire him?’

‘It’s a start.’

‘But not a good ending.’

‘I suppose you have a better idea?’

‘I do. It will cost you a plane ticket.’

‘To Nelspruit?’

‘No. A little farther than that,’ I said.

‘What’s your plan?’

‘I think it’s better if you don’t know.’

She thought it over and I suppose she agreed, although she wasn’t happy about it. She banged the Porsche down a gear and floored the accelerator. The G-forces pressed us against the seats with an invisible hand.

The office looked out over the sea, but the antique air conditioner made too much noise for us to hear the breakers.

I faced a man the colour of dusk. He was deep in his sixties, hair snowy white, but the scar that stretched from the corner of his mouth to his ear was just as clear as when I had met him for the first time ten years earlier. His eyes were still vacant, as though the person behind them had died inside. He was a man who no longer cared about feeling pain and who felt a certain pressure to dish it out.

I slid the DVD case across the desk towards him.

‘You will need an interpreter,’ I said.

‘For which language?’ His accent was strong.

‘Afrikaans.’

‘You can translate for me.’

‘I think we would both prefer an objective translation.’

‘I see.’ He reached for the holder and opened it. The disc gleamed, silver and new. ‘May I ask you why you are doing this?’

‘I would like to say it is because I believe in justice, but that wouldn’t be true. It’s because I believe in revenge.’

He nodded slowly and closed the case.

‘I know,’ he said, and put out his hand. ‘We are like family.’

As I walked out into the oppressive heat of Maputo, capital of Mozambique, at noon, my cell phone beeped above the hiss of the Indian Ocean. I took it out of my pocket and beckoned a taxi. I checked the message.

Three words only: EMMA IS AWAKE.