See No Evil

29

‘Put the gun down, Zan.’ Cornelius’s voice was strong, authoritative.

‘No,’ said Zan.

Cornelius took a step forward. ‘I said, put it down.’

‘I’ll shoot you, Pa,’ Zan said. ‘I don’t want to, but I will if I have to. I’ve killed a lot of people, believe me.’

Cornelius halted.

‘Take three steps back,’ Zan commanded.

Cornelius slowly did as he was told. ‘When you said you’d killed people, did you mean Martha?’

‘Yes,’ Zan said.

‘And you tried to kill Todd?’

‘No, that was the Laagerbond. Edwin told me Todd had been asking questions. He also told me about the joy ride in the Yak he had planned. It seemed like a good opportunity for them to shut him up.’

‘But how could you do that to Todd?’ Cornelius asked. ‘He’s your brother.’

‘Half-brother. I hate him, Pa. I always have, ever since I was fourteen. That’s when I realized that he and Martha had stolen you. I tried to win you back, but you left me. You left me and you left your people and you ran away.’

‘My people?’

‘The Afrikaner people. Our people.’

‘But you were a supporter of the struggle against apartheid!’

‘Not me, Pa,’ said Zan, smiling. ‘How could you ever believe that? I was always working for our people. It was me who first suggested that the Laagerbond approach you. We had it all planned perfectly. The SACP hit-list; Beatrice.’

‘And Hennie?’ said Cornelius. ‘Did you kill Hennie?’

‘No,’ said Zan, frowning. ‘No, guerrillas did that.’ But there was doubt in her voice.

‘Just like they killed Martha, I suppose,’ Cornelius said, his voice laced with scorn.

‘You ran away! Why did you run away, Pa? Operation Drommedaris was perfect for you. It would have brought us together, doing something for our people, father and daughter. But when she died, you left. Left your country, left your people, left me. You went to America and married another American woman and forgot all about your homeland. How could you do that to me after everything I had done for you?’

Cornelius’s face was a mixture of disbelief and revulsion. ‘But why kill Martha?’

‘I had to. She had figured out what I was up to. She knew about the Laagerbond and she knew I was working for the security police. And she was sleeping with him,’ she jerked the rifle towards Benton. ‘I read all about it in this.’ Zan nodded at the diary which she had placed on the small table beside her. ‘I bet the last entries are all about me.’

‘So the Laagerbond told you to kill her?’ Calder said.

‘Oh, no. I told them they should do it, but they refused. They didn’t want to scare you off, they said. I decided not to fly to London, but to Johannesburg instead. I got hold of a rifle and drove over to Kupugani. After all those trips hunting springbok with Uncle Hennie I knew how to use one, even then. And when I saw Martha with Benton it wasn’t difficult to pull the trigger. I’m just sorry I didn’t get you as well.’

She glared at Benton. He scowled back.

‘The police caught me driving out of Kupugani. I called the Laagerbond. They were unhappy, but they had to help me cover everything up, and so the police let me go. It would have stayed covered up if Alex Calder hadn’t asked so many damned questions.’ Anger burned in her eyes as she glared at Calder. ‘Phyllis knew,’ she said. ‘That was why she tried to sneak the diary to Benton without me seeing. You found it and you read it, didn’t you?’

‘Yes,’ said Phyllis, her voice strong. ‘We discovered it about five years ago. When I’d read it I decided to keep quiet about it. I was afraid something like this might happen.’

‘Did someone from the Laagerbond really try to kill you this morning?’ Calder said.

‘Oh, yes. After the Laagerbond had failed to stop you I told them I would take care of things myself. Like I did with Martha. I thought I was going to meet an old friend who is a member to talk it over, but it was a trap. For some reason they must think I’m more of a danger to them than you are.’

‘I’m not surprised,’ muttered Cornelius.

‘But you don’t really have an NIA contact?’ Calder said.

‘Of course not. I wanted to give you just enough information about the Laagerbond to make you believe I was on your side, but not enough to actually be useful.’

‘Is your brother in on this with you?’ asked Cornelius.

‘Edwin?’ Zan snorted. ‘I wouldn’t trust Edwin any more than you would. But he has kept me well informed the whole time, in fact he called me this morning. He knew I was interested in your activities, but he didn’t know why, although he may have guessed. It was Edwin who told me that you and Kim were so eager to find out about Martha, and I passed that on to the Laagerbond. Except they screwed up again.’

‘And so they blew up my sister. Crippled her.’ Scorn and anger mixed in equal measure in Calder’s voice. ‘An innocent woman. A mother.’

‘As I said, they screwed up,’ said Zan. She turned to Phyllis. ‘Where are the keys to the aircraft?’

‘They’re locked in a cupboard in the hut at the airstrip.’

‘And where’s the key to that?’

Phyllis didn’t move. Zan was still pointing the rifle at Calder. ‘You’re a brave woman,’ said Zan. ‘Give me the key or I’ll shoot him.’

Phyllis blinked. Then she slowly pulled a set of keys out of her pocket, and began to select one.

‘Throw me all of them,’ Zan said. ‘By my feet.’

Phyllis tossed the keys on to the floor, and Zan crouched down to pick them up.

‘Good. Now, put your hands on your heads and come out of the cottage one at a time.’

She placed the diary in Phyllis’s small backpack, which she slung over her shoulder. Then she opened the door and backed out. Phyllis came first, followed by Calder and Cornelius. Benton came last. As Zan was backing away, he paused before the threshold and slammed the door shut. Zan lowered her rifle and pressed the trigger. It was a giant round. It rammed into the door, shattering it, and on the other side Benton let out a cry. The door swung open to reveal him lying on the ground, clutching his shoulder.

‘Up!’ Zan shouted. Benton didn’t move. ‘I said get up!’

Benton sat on his haunches, his face crumpled in agony. He was trying not to scream and barely succeeding.

‘Get him, Alex,’ Zan said.

Calder slowly went over to Benton and picked him up.

‘Now move! Over to the shed. And take it slowly.’

They walked in single file, Zan’s gun raised behind them. Calder staggered under Benton’s weight. He was losing a lot of blood.

‘Get in!’ barked Zan as they reached the hut. ‘In!’

They did as they were told. ‘Back! Back as far as you can!’ They moved to a pile of junk along the back wall, as Zan stood in the doorway. She raised the rifle, aimed at the light bulb and fired, all in one movement. The report of the powerful weapon sounded like an explosion in the confined space and the bulb shattered. She was a good shot. Calder saw his opportunity to lunge forward, but in an instant the gun was lowered and pointed at his chest.

‘I said, back!’

Calder stepped back.

Zan’s eyes fell on Cornelius. She hesitated, unsure what to do with him. ‘Pa? Pa. Won’t you come with me?’

‘Come with you? Where? You have nowhere to hide. The only place you’ll be going is jail!’

‘Don’t you see that I did all this for you? For you and for our people? Martha was an evil woman. She had just had sex with this man when I shot her. You’re a powerful man, Pa. You can fix this. You can make things all right again. Come with me.’

‘Zan, you are the evil one,’ Cornelius said. His voice was hard and cold and laced with contempt. ‘God damn you, you’re no daughter of mine!’

A tear ran down Zan’s cheek, then another. She bit her lip. All her strength and bluster seemed to be slipping away. For a moment Calder thought she was going to put down the rifle and slump to the ground. Then she blinked back the tears and her face hardened as she made up her mind. She moved with manic energy. With one hand she grabbed a small can of paraffin and threw it outside, the rifle pointing steadily at her captives. She snatched a box of matches by the oil lamps and backed out of the hut. She slammed the door shut.

There was no window, it was pitch black. Calder threw himself at where he remembered the door was but it held. His hands fumbled for the latch, but he heard a key turning in the lock. He felt Cornelius beside him. Also scrabbling for the latch. ‘She’s locked it,’ Calder said.

‘What’s that?’ said Phyllis.

They could hear the trickle of liquid, then they could smell paraffin.

‘Oh, God,’ said Cornelius. ‘Zan! Zan!’ he yelled. ‘Let us out! Zan!’

Calder stepped back and trod on something. Benton screamed in pain. Then Calder charged at the door. It held.

Sounds outside. A gentle whump. Then crackling as the wood caught light. As Calder hit the door again, he could feel its warmth. He paused. In the confined black space the noises were loud, so loud. Benton’s whimpering. His own heavy breathing. The sound of Cornelius banging against the wall. The darkness was already getting warmer. He felt a rising tide of panic within him, a desire to lash out, to beat the walls with his fists, to do anything to get out of there.

‘There’s a pickaxe,’ Phyllis said calmly, her disembodied voice a couple of feet behind him. ‘There’s a pickaxe over by the far wall. I’ll get it.’ Calder could hear her moving, bumping into things. ‘Stay calm. Stay by the door. It’s the weakest part of the structure, the walls are solid log.’

Calder remained still, taking deep breaths to try to stay calm. The door was warm. The hut was growing warmer. The crackling was growing louder. Panic seeped through the darkness: Cornelius and Benton managed to remain silent, but he could feel their fear. He couldn’t yet see the flames or smell the smoke; when he could it would probably be too late. Phyllis was taking for ever. He wanted to tell her to hurry up but he knew that wouldn’t help.

‘Got it!’ said Phyllis. ‘Where are you Alex?’

‘Here!’ Calder shouted.

Phyllis bumped into something and gave a little cry. Then there was a scream of pain as she stepped on Benton. ‘Where?’

‘Here!’ repeated Calder urgently. He held out his hand and felt Phyllis’s. A moment later the pickaxe handle was in his grasp.

‘Stand clear!’ he said. He stepped back and swung. The pickaxe bounced off hard wood. The wall. He could smell smoke. It stung his eyes in the blackness. He saw a flicker of light at the bottom corner of the door. The flames would be in the hut in a moment. He swung again, above and to the right of the flicker. Wood splintered. Another swing. More splinters, the flicker of flames, smoke, a sliver of daylight. Another swing. More daylight now. Smoke tickled his throat. If he coughed it would all be over. He held his breath, aimed for the door lock which he could now see, and swung again.

The lock shattered and the door swung open, letting in a ferocious wall of heat. Flames licked into the hut, running almost instantaneously over the beams and along the roof. Cornelius charged through the flames out into the open. Calder turned and grabbed hold of Phyllis. ‘Go!’ he yelled and pushed her into and through the flames.

He breathed in smoke. Coughed. Bent down, grabbed Benton’s leg. Pulled. Benton yelled and began to scrabble along the floor. God, the bastard was heavy. Calder coughed again. Benton’s screams were smothered in his own spluttering. Calder charged at the flames in the door, keeping his head down, dragging Benton behind him. It was searing hot, he felt his hair ignite, his skin burn and then he was through into the delicious open air.

Cornelius grabbed Benton’s other leg and dragged him out. Benton’s clothes were on fire. Cornelius ripped off his shirt and smothered the flames. Benton gasped for air.

‘Which direction is the airstrip?’ panted Calder.

Phyllis pointed towards the bush.

‘You stay with Benton,’ Calder said to her. ‘Cornelius, you go back to the camp and get some help.’

Cornelius nodded and started along the track. Calder set off into the bush after Zan.