Death Dealing (16 page)

It had been a tough
six or seven hours, but when they eventually saw Nadine the doctors had been
brilliant, Fiona told him. She asked him to pass on the news to the rest of the
team, too. She then drove Pauline back to her apartment, they had a coffee
together, and Fiona drove home to change and then get in to work.

During the drive
home she thought through the many instances of high drama that she and Jeremy
had had to endure over the years. Good friends being traumatised. Good cops
being killed. Injuries. Near-death escapes. The fraught lives of people working
in the criminal justice system. The comparative calm of
her own
office in the company of some of the top architects in the province.

The most traumatic
thing that had happened in her office all week was a struggle with the CAD/CAM
software that had developed a glitch.

She paused at a red
light as she came off the highway, and stared vacantly at the graffiti on the underpass.
To live and die in
Durban
.
Wise-ass kids. What do they know?

11.10.

While Thabethe sat
in a car concluding his purchase of a large parcel of
nyaope
, Mgwazeni and Wakashe stood back in the shelter of a doorway
in Mahatma Gandhi Road, which Wakashe resolutely insisted on calling by its
long-standing common-usage colonial name, Point
Road.

‘
Eish
! This is all causing me confusions,
these new names for streets. What’s wrong with Point Road? Why do they want to
name streets after
amaNdiya
?’

‘Politics,’
Mgwazeni replied, ‘all politics.’

They watched as
Thabethe left the car and headed toward them, while the driver pulled out into
the traffic. Thabethe was carrying a bundle the size of a small
shoe-box
, and was grinning.

‘Good price,’
comrades. ‘This guy knows me well. He says he will sell to me any day because
he knows me. He told me some bad stories about under-cover cops. He trusts
nobody. Except me.’

‘Good one, Skhura,’
said Mgwazeni. ‘That guy, he has some strong supplies?’

‘Big
supplies.
He
was telling me the stuff comes from Swaziland. They have a good system. They
can bring in lots and lots of the stuff. No problem.’

‘How much you pay
him, Skhura?’ asked Wakashe.

‘Cheap,
bra
.
Cheap. Don’t worry. We will make
three times the price.’

Mgwazeni thought
Wakashe still had some learning to do. Don’t ask Skhura anything about price.
He gets nervous when guys start asking those questions. He had got to know Thabethe
well during the three months they had spent in prison, and one of the lessons
was never ever to question Thabethe on price. Just trust the guy. He won’t let
you down. But don’t ask too many questions. Mgwazeni resolved to take Wakashe
aside sometime soon and talk to him about this.

Wakashe picked up
the lesson without Mgwazeni having to tell him. There was something in Thabethe’s
response, he thought. It carried an implied warning that the price was
something he would worry about and to which his two friends should not give
another thought.

‘But that guy told
me one other thing, too,’ said Thabethe.

‘What, Skhura? What
was he saying?’ said Mgwazeni.

‘He was telling me
there’s a big police plan going on from tomorrow night until Friday night in
Durban. They are doing raids tomorrow and Friday all over the clubs and taverns
in Durban. They got plain-clothes cops and
impimpis
and everyone working for two nights. Operation something. Some name I forget. I
don’t know. But the guy tells me we shouldn’t try and sell the stuff for two
days. Saturday it will be finished. But for two nights, Thursday and Friday, he
says we better stay away from the places in Durban.’

‘Shit. Is bad,’
said Mgwazeni. ‘We were going to do those clubs…’

‘Wait, friends,’
said Wakashe. ‘Wait. If we stay away from Durban tomorrow night then we can go
back there near my mother’s place. Tomorrow night is good. Thursday nights
there
at Mabaleng Tavern. You know that place, Skhura?’

‘Mabaleng’s?
I know it well,
bra
. I know it very well.’

‘Good. That one,
you know there they do hip-hop and stuff and they bring in lots of guys.
Especially on Thursdays.
Business is good. We can stay away
from the Durban places tomorrow and then maybe again on Friday.’

This made sense to
the other two. They considered the extra possibility that they might stay over
again at Wakashe’s mother’s place, which was very near to Mabaleng’s, but after
discussion they dismissed that. The police might have discovered the vehicle
they had stolen and that might lead to investigations. They resolved that they
would head out to Mabaleng’s later on Thursday night, but that after concluding
their business there they would come back to the city.

11.25.

With the Captain still
out at his meeting, they were gathered around the desk in his office. Ryder was
looking through the photographs that had been taken by security cameras at
various ATMs. Pillay, Tshabalala, Koekemoer and Dippenaar were looking over his
shoulder.

‘He’s a clever
bastard, Jeremy. Not one of the photos catches him full on.’

‘’You’re right,
Dipps. This one here is about as close as it gets. Maybe he lost concentration
this time and didn’t stand back far enough, or maybe the camera was located in
a different place, but those are his eyes.’

‘No question,’
added Koekemoer. ‘Only Satan and Thabethe have got eyes like that.
And Dipps, after a brandy and coke.
Jirra
, what an evil bastard.
You ever met a guy as bad
as this, Mavis?’

‘Sorry, Detective
Koeks, what was that?’ replied Mavis.

‘
Okes
like Thabethe. You ever run into a
guy like this in the township?’

‘No,
Koeks, only in the city.
I don’t live in any township. I live in Musgrave.’

Ryder and Pillay
exchanged a glance as they saw Koekemoer walking right into it.

‘Oh.
Ja
. I see. Sorry. I thought… but when
you were small…’

‘I was born next
door to the Musgrave Shopping Centre. I’m living in the same flat where my
mother had me as a baby.’

‘Oh.
Ja
. Well. I see. Anyway, you ever seen a
guy as evil as this? I mean, you know, even in Musgrave it can be dangerous. If
I had a daughter who…’

‘Here comes some
mansplaining, Navi,’ said Ryder. ‘Watch it unfold.’

‘What? What’s that,
Jeremy.
What’s mans-planning?’

‘Mans
plaining
, Koeks,’ interjected Pillay.
‘Jeremy’s just alerting us to a big explanation coming along from you in a few
seconds.
From a man.
All for Mavis’s
benefit.
In case she doesn’t understand, you know? I mean, she’s only a
woman.’

Koekemoer was
dumbfounded for a second. Then they all burst out laughing, Mavis loudest of
all.

‘
Jirra
, you
okes
.
It’s hard for a guy to even…’

‘Don’t worry, uncle
Koeks,’ said Mavis. ‘It’s not a problem. We’re just joking. But you’re right.
It’s dangerous out there, and I have seen some very bad people. I must take you
to visit my friend Nonnie in KwaMashu some day. She lives in a very bad area. I
can show you some people there. But it’s not safe for a white Afrikaner man,
you know. It would be OK if you came along with us, though. Nonnie and I know
how to look after
ourselves
. You’ll be safe with us.’

‘
Yissus, ou
Koeks,’ said Dippenaar, as
the others chuckled, ‘remember when Mavis was this shy young intern. Now she’s
a constable she’s a big tough…’

‘Not so much on the
word
big
, please, uncle Dipps,’ said
Mavis. ‘I’m losing weight every time I go to one of Navi’s classes. You should
go too, you and Koeks. Navi can teach you to protect yourself against the people
with evil eyes. Especially
men
with
evil eyes.’

‘You go, girl!’
said Pillay.

‘OK guys,’ said
Ryder, getting to his feet and interrupting the levity. ‘So we know these men
picked up just short of ten thousand before the cards were cancelled, and we
know where they were just before three o’clock on Saturday and between eleven
and twelve on Sunday and on Monday. We need to get out to each of these
locations and ask around to see who might remember seeing any of them at around
those times.’

They agreed a plan
of action, and all started moving out. Ryder paused to pick up a message from Cronje,
while KoeksnDips made their way to their cars philosophising about the woes of
white men.

‘Mavis, can I speak
to you for a minute?’

‘Sure,
Navi.
What is
it?’

They stood on the
stairs leading into the car park, Pillay still nursing a polystyrene cup of
coffee.

‘Just
a spontaneous thought.
I wondered whether you wanted to come over to my place for
dinner tomorrow night. We could discuss your research project.’

‘Oh
dear, Navi.
I’m so sorry. I can’t. I’m going to have dinner with a friend in KwaMashu. I…’

‘Oh. OK. No
problem. It’s very short notice. I just thought…’

‘I’m really sorry.
I’d love to do that. It’s just that tomorrow night…’

‘Don’t say another
word. It was entirely on a whim. I loved the exchange with Koeks inside, and it
just struck me that you and I should spend a bit of social time together. We
only ever meet at work.’

‘That’s very kind
of you, Navi. I would like that very much.’

‘Is the friend you’re
having dinner with the same one you told me about on Sunday? The one who went
with you to that tavern? With her brother?’

‘Yes. That’s the
one. Nonnie. Nonhlanhla. She’s been a friend for many years.
Since
high school.
She… um… well, she invited me to dinner with her brother,
and…’

Mavis had the sense
that Mavis was a little embarrassed. Maybe the mention of the brother was the
cause, she thought.

‘OK, well, I better
get going, Mavis. I’ll catch up later.’

‘Thank
you, Navi.
But please, let’s do it together sometime soon. I’d really like to.’

They punched fists
lightly and Pillay went down into the car park while Mavis went inside. She
bumped into Ryder coming out.

‘So long, Mavis,’
he said. ‘See you later.’

‘Bye, Jeremy.’

She went in and
Ryder caught up with Pillay.

‘Want to join me,
Navi? I’ve just had a quick word with Pauline. She invited me to stop in for a
coffee. Nadine’s in good hands, she said.’

‘Love to, Jeremy.
Will she mind if I just arrive with you?’

‘Course not. She
said she was feeling better. She said she’d thought that she wanted to be alone
but after a couple of hours of it she decided that that was not necessarily a
good policy, so she said I should let people know she’s changed her mind about
being a hermit and anyone is welcome. Except at visiting hours, of course, when
she’ll be at the hospital with Nadine.’

‘The brief bit I
heard this morning sounded really awful. You going to tell me more about what
happened last night?’

‘Sure. Hop in. We’ll
just spend half an hour there. Pauline makes the best coffee.’

‘I’ve heard you say
that exact same sentence using the names of about six different people. Sounds
like whoever makes coffee for Jeremy Ryder makes the best coffee around.’

‘You got it. Let’s
go.’

They got into the
Camry and drove out of the car park.

13.15.

Police cordons had
been set up very quickly. A team from Forensic Services arrived at the scene at
a quarter past one and commenced their work in the first instance on the body
in the street. They would work on the bodies in the building only later.

The nursing staff
in Addington Hospital would later give evidence to the effect that Mr Kwanele
Khuzwayo had come all the way from Pietermaritzburg and attended his check-up
appointment as arranged. They had checked his head wound, cleaned it, changed
the dressings, and advised him to continue with the tablets he had received when
initially attended to by the medics. He appeared to them to be in good spirits,
though a little distant. He answered to their questions in monosyllables, and
had not pursued any line of conversation they opened with him.

The investigating
officers would later compile a report that tracked his movements after leaving
the care of the nurses in question. Drawing on CTV footage, eyewitness
accounts, and contradictory evidence from a number of witnesses, the final
report would indicate that Mr Khuzwayo left the nurses and turned in the
direction opposite to the one leading to the exit hall. He took the stairs
rather than the elevator, and the CTV camera on the second floor recorded him
entering the ward of the man known by the nursing staff on the floor as
Toothpick
. Before entering the man’s
ward, the camera showed that Mr Khuzwayo drew a weapon from a
shoulder-holster
under his left arm. The
weapon
was later identified by the first responders
as an illegal
large capacity magazine
weapon. They
also reported that the first assessment of the crime scene led them to believe
that Mr Khuzwayo had stowed in different pockets of his casual hiking jacket two
extra magazines each containing fifteen rounds. The entire first magazine was
used on the man named
Toothpick
. Fifteen
bullets were fired, all of them entering his face, most of them in the region
of his mouth. It was likely that the very first bullet proved fatal, but
Khuzwayo had continued firing until the magazine was empty. The victim’s face
was entirely destroyed.