A Death in the Family (32 page)

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MABAKU COMMANDEERED ONE
of the constables and followed Liz's directions to the Chinese compound, not far from the mine. Again they were stopped by a guard at the entrance.

“He says no one can come into the compound here unless they are with one of the residents,” Liz told them.

“Tell him to open the gate at once!” Mabaku said angrily. “Who do these people think they are?”

“I told him,” Liz replied. “But he says he doesn't care. He says we must go back to mine reception.”

“Tell him to open the gate or he'll be arrested!”

The man listened to Liz but then shook his head firmly and started walking away.

“You open it,” Mabaku instructed the constable.

The man clambered out and started pushing the gate, but there was a shout, and he turned around to find the guard holding a gun on him. Mabaku was too flabbergasted to react, but Kubu grabbed his service pistol and aimed it at the guard.

“Tell him to drop the gun,” he said to Liz. She shouted something in Chinese, and the man looked around. When he saw Kubu's gun, he hesitated. Liz shouted again, and he lowered the pistol.

“Tell him to drop it,” Kubu said. A third shout, and the man did as he was told. The constable ran over to him and handcuffed him, none too gently, and scooped up the gun.

“Tell him he's under arrest,” Mabaku said. Liz did so, and the man just nodded as they led him to the car and cuffed him. He sat there with his shoulders slumped.

In fact, he turned out to be useful. He knew where Shonhu lived and walked them there from the gate. And he had a master key to let them in. After that they sent him back to the car with the constable, while Kubu, Mabaku, and Liz entered the small prefabricated building.

The house comprised a small lounge with two easy chairs and a table, a bedroom with a single bed and built-in cupboard, a bathroom with a shower and toilet, and a small kitchenette. Probably very luxurious by Chinese standards, Kubu thought as both detectives pulled on latex gloves.

Mabaku made his way to the bathroom. He recognized toothpaste, shampoo, and a packet of condoms, but the small medicine cabinet contained a variety of other items all labeled in Chinese characters. Since he had no idea what might be of interest, he decided to collect everything, packing it all into evidence bags.

Kubu started in the lounge area. He lifted the chair cushions and felt around the edges of the furniture. There was nothing there.

On the table was a cardboard box with the remains of a Chinese meal. Perhaps he doesn't enjoy his own cooking, Kubu thought. There was also a framed picture of a proud young man in military uniform between an older man and woman. Young Shonhu with his parents, Kubu surmised.

There was nothing of interest in the kitchen area either, so he moved to the bedroom and opened the cupboard. The right half was shelves, neatly packed with clothes. He sorted carefully through them but found nothing there either.

The left side was hanging space, containing several jackets and pairs of slacks. Below them was a selection of shoes on a shelf. There was also a pair of boots. Kubu picked them up and turned them over. They were made in China. He took a deep breath. Could these be the boots Zanele was looking for? The boots his father's murderer had been wearing? He put them carefully into a large evidence bag.

He noticed that the shoe shelf was above the floor of the room by about six inches, but the shelves on the right side reached down almost to the floor. That's odd, he thought.

Kubu asked Mabaku to join him. “Why do you think the shoes aren't at floor level?” he asked.

“Maybe something to do with the plumbing? The bathroom's behind that wall.”

Kubu took a look in the bathroom. “No, the pipes are on the outside wall,” he told Mabaku. He returned to the cupboard and took out the shoes and boots one by one. Then he examined the bottom of the cupboard carefully. It felt a bit loose, but then so did one of the doors and some of the shelves. Poor workmanship had gone into the building of the compound. Kubu pulled the clothes out of the bottom shelf and put them on the bed. Then he examined the screws holding the shoe shelf in place. One was loose to the touch, and the other had a fresh scratch. Mabaku, spotting what Kubu was up to, dug in his jacket and came up with a Leatherman. He passed it to Kubu, who battled to find the screwdriver on it. At last it clicked out. Do-it-yourself was hardly Kubu's thing, but he had no trouble removing the screws, and the shelf lifted out at once.

“Look at this, Director,” he said. Mabaku came over and examined the exposed space. It contained several small boxes, a packet of latex gloves, and some clothing, including a ski mask. Kubu picked up the top box—surprisingly heavy—and opened it. It contained a pistol of a make he didn't recognize and several boxes of 9 mm ammunition. Mabaku opened another box and found that it contained a variety of knives. He closed the box with a snap. “I want Zanele and her people to go through everything here. We'll leave the constable here to prevent anyone entering the room. You can sit in the back to keep an eye on the guard until we get him to the Shoshong police station.” Kubu nodded as he packed the contents of the compartment into evidence bags and stowed them in a duffel bag.

“A good morning's work, Kubu. We can add possession of a firearm to the charges against Shonhu.” Mabaku smiled. “Our Mr. Shonhu is in very, very deep trouble,” he added with relish.

 

CHAPTER 51

On Tuesday afternoon, after Jasmine had formally identified him, Shonhu was driven to Gaborone in the back of a police van. He cursed and struggled as he was taken into the Gaborone police station, resulting in a few bruises from the unsympathetic constables. There, he was charged with the assault. He was fingerprinted, and more hair samples were taken. After that he was left to fume in a cell—a small one—while Forensics worked through all the potential new evidence. Several promising liquids found in his house were sent for analysis. His clothes and shoes were checked for bloodstains, the boxes hidden in the cupboard were examined for fingerprints, and the knives were checked for both. The handgun was of Chinese manufacture, and they fired multiple rounds through it to see if there was a match with any of the bullets recovered from a variety of crimes.

Despite his impatience, Mabaku left Shonhu to stew on Wednesday. The director wanted to gather as much forensic evidence as possible before they confronted him with it. Mabaku hoped that, faced with what they'd found, he'd break down and confess. Then Hong and Mopati would go down too.

By Thursday morning, they thought they had enough. Mabaku and Kubu agreed to meet at nine, plan the interview, and then grill Shonhu. Both felt confident about the outcome. But as they were walking to the interview room, Miriam ran up behind them, calling to the director.

Mabaku stopped. This wasn't at all the way Miriam normally operated. She was organized and efficient, and she knew they had a crucial interview ahead.

“I'm sorry, Director,” she told him. “I just had a call from the commissioner. He's been summoned to the president's office, and he wants you there.”

“When is this? What's it about?”

“In half an hour, Director. He didn't say what it's about. Just to make sure you were there.”

Mabaku swore. He'd been looking forward to seeing Shonhu squirm, but he had no option. “Kubu, I don't want to delay things anymore. Next thing, Shonhu will get out on bail. Grab Edison and take him with you. Best if there are two people, but you handle the interrogation. Shonhu's hired a lawyer now. A good one.”

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WHEN KUBU ARRIVED
at the interview room, he was not pleased to see the lawyer. He'd had dealings before with Jeffrey Davidson, widely regarded as Botswana's best criminal defense attorney. Kubu had seen more than one guilty man walk free after Davidson's intervention. But Zanele's people had been working flat out for the last day and a half. Shonhu and Davidson had some unpleasant surprises ahead.

Kubu gave Davidson a terse greeting and introduced Edison. Then the two detectives seated themselves opposite Shonhu, who was sitting handcuffed and not looking happy. Kubu was pleased about that.

“Mr. Shonhu, this interview is being recorded,” he began. “You've already been cautioned, and you have your lawyer present. You've been charged with assault, but we want to interview you about another matter—the murder of Goodman Kunene.”

Before he could continue, Davidson held up his hand. “Assistant Superintendent, my client is already charged with a serious crime. I think we need to discuss that before we start on something new.”

“There's nothing to talk about. The director gave you a file specifying the details of the crime. You can read the victim's statement. And you can see the pictures of the woman's injuries.”

“I've seen the pictures and read the statement from this Jasmine woman. Certainly her face shows signs of bruising. The issue is whether they were caused by my client.”

“She identified him, and the police saw his car outside her house!”

“Yes. So she did, but, of course, Mr. Shonhu claims she fell over a coffee table and hit her head. We also want to know why there was a policeman waiting next door. It seems that my client was set up by the police and this woman so that you could get him into custody to grill him about this other matter.”

Kubu battled to keep his temper. “Mr. Davidson, if you want to challenge the evidence and make speeches, save it for the trial. We want to interview Mr. Shonhu about the death of Goodman Kunene.”

“I certainly will raise it in court. I've asked for an urgent bail hearing, and we'll see what the judge thinks of these goings-on. Mr. Shonhu is a senior executive at the Konshua Mine—hardly a flight risk. In addition, my client claims he was manhandled by the police.”

Kubu suppressed his irritation and concentrated on Shonhu. “Do you know Mr. Goodman Kunene?” he asked.

Shonhu glanced at the lawyer, who nodded.

“Yes. He worked in the Department of Mines for the head, Mr. Mopati. But he's dead.”

“Did you ever meet him?”

“One time. I went with Mr. Hong to see him about the mine expansion.”

“When was that?”

“End of January. I can't remember date.”

That was a couple of weeks before Kunene was killed, Kubu thought. “What car did he drive?” he asked.

“Car? I know nothing about his car.”

“A sample of your hair was found in his car after Kunene was killed.”

“Impossible!” He hesitated, then added, “Maybe from documents I gave him?”

“And your fingerprints were found on the hose used to gas him!”

Davidson held up his hand again. “Do you have a question for my client or are you just listing alleged forensic facts that he's unable to challenge here? If the latter, I will advise him not to answer any further questions.”

“All right, I have a question for him,” Kubu said. “Where were you on the night of February sixth? The night Mr. Kunene was murdered.”

“I play mah-jongg with Mr. Hong. We play every week on Thursday. Sixth of February is Thursday.”

“Who won?” Edison asked.

Shonhu paused and looked at him. “I don't remember. It was weeks ago. We play for fun. Not to win.” He shrugged.

“So my client has a solid alibi,” Davidson commented. “He was in Shoshong. Kunene died here in Gaborone. This is just a fishing trip, gentlemen. Is there anything else?”

“Oh, yes, there's a lot more,” said Kubu. “Mr. Shonhu, I'd like you to tell me about the various items we found under the false bottom of your cupboard.”

“What items? I know nothing about this.”

“Don't waste our time, Shonhu. Among other things, we found knives and a firearm. Do you have a permit for that, Mr. Shonhu?”

Shonhu shrugged. “You make up another story like the assault? I have no gun.”

Kubu took out his notebook. “It's a Chinese-manufactured QSZ-92 pistol, common in the Chinese military. Director Mabaku, our interpreter, and myself were all present at the time it was found.”

Shonhu shrugged again. “If this true, maybe man who lived there before left it. He is in China now. Perhaps you can ask police in Shanghai to find him.”

Kubu glanced at Davidson, who obviously wasn't pleased by this new revelation about the hidden weapons.

“One of the knives we found in the cupboard in your room has traces of blood on it. Whose blood is that, Mr. Shonhu?”

Davidson jumped in. “How would my client know that? He's already said he knows nothing about what you claim you found in his rooms.”

Kubu fixed his attention on Shonhu. “So you say that you know nothing about the hidden compartment? That you didn't know it existed?”

“Yes. That's what I said.”

“Then how come we found your fingerprints on an item inside that compartment? Did they get there by some form of Chinese magic, perhaps?”

Kubu was delighted to see the smug look drop from Shonhu's face. Yes, you made a mistake, didn't you? he thought. And if you made one mistake, you made others.

“Impossible!”

“The box of latex gloves, Mr. Shonhu. You handled the box to get the gloves out. You shouldn't have put it in the compartment.”

Shonhu turned to Davidson. “He's making it up. This isn't true! Why would I have gloves, guns, knives? I'm engineer, not a criminal.”

Davidson now looked really sour, and Kubu pressed his advantage.

“Why did you have Rohypnol in your bathroom, Mr. Shonhu? What was that for?”

“What is Rohypnol?” He seemed genuinely puzzled.

“Rohypnol is a drug. Sometimes, it's called a date-rape drug because men who can't get a girl to agree to sex use it to knock them out. But you can use it to knock a man out too. Like Mr. Kunene. Is that what you used it for?”