Tandia (6 page)
The white policeman turned furiously to the door. His look was met by the impassive face of the black constable. 'Hey, jong, what did you say to her?'
The black policeman looked directly back at the white man. 'I said she must be quick and answer the questions, sir.'
Tandia began to sob. Quiet little sobs which shook her shoulders and could barely be heard. 'Listen, you black bastard, when I want you to speak, I'll ask, you hear?' the white officer snapped.
The black policeman pulled himself to attention, 'Yes, sir!' he replied in an automatic way. His eyes held steady as he met the white sergeant's angry glare.
The white policeman turned away. 'Cheeky bladdy kaffir,' he said as though to himself. Then he called, 'Okay, take her back to the cell. I can't interrogate a subject who is crying.' He jumped from the table and started towards the door.
Tandia rose from her chair quickly, 'Please, sir. You said I was free, sir!' she cried, beginning to follow after him across the room.
The white policeman whirled around to face her. 'Who said that?' he cried angrily. He turned back to the constable at the door. 'Did I say that?' He turned again, pointing an accusing finger at Tandia. 'Did I say this black person was free?' Tandia was unable to meet his gaze and lowered her eyes. 'You won't answer my questions. That is not cooperating with the police. Now, all of a sudden you want to go free. I am a police officer and I am asking you questions in the course of my duty. You refuse to answer!' His pale blue eyes were flecked with cold, bright anger and a small muscle in the left side of his cheek jerked suddenly.
'No, sir, I have not done this thing. I am a good girl, sir,' Tandia burst out.
'You are lying!' The white man shouted, pointing to the smaller of the two chairs. 'Sit there!'
Tandia sat down and covered her face with her hands, trying hard to stifle her sobbing.
The black constable took a step towards her. 'I will take her back to the cell now, sergeant?'
'I thought I told you to mind your own bladdy business, constable? You speak again, you on report, you hear?' He turned to Tandia. 'I haven't got all night to waste. I asked you nicely, now I'm going to ask you one more time. Have you had sexual intercourse with a man?'
Tandia pulled her hands away from her face. 'I was raped!
This morning I was raped!' she sobbed.
The white officer allowed Tandia to cry for a few moments. He walked back to the table and lifted himself back onto it. This time he sat directly in front of her. Tandia's eyes were level with the table top, so now when she raised them she looked directly into the white man's crotch. Seated like this, his presence was hugely threatening; his legs swung casually, one on either side of the small chair, seeming to trap her between them.
Tandia tried to sniff away her tears and suddenly started to hiccup. The white police officer called over to the constable, 'Hey, Matembu. That's your name, isn't it? Bring some water, make quick!'
The black policeman left the room and returned shortly with a tin mug of water. The sergeant took it from him and held the mug out to Tandia. 'Here, take it, drink, you'll feel better.' His voice was conciliatory. She took the mug from him and holding her nose she drank deeply until the mug was empty. In order to avoid his crotch and look into his face she was forced to pull her head back.
'Thank you, sir,' she said in a voice barely above a whisper. She put the mug down beside her chair.
'It works with me like that also, funny, isn't it?' the police officer said in a friendly voice.
Tandia nodded dumbly, then she sniffed and knuckled her tears away. Her nose was running and she didn't know what to do about it. The white policeman turned to the constable once again. 'Go in the lavatory, bring some paper,' he ordered.
The black policeman returned and placed a roll of lavatory paper on the end of the table. 'Take it,' the white policeman said, 'blow your nose.'
Tandia was obliged to rise from the small chair and reach past the white officer to get the roll. As she did so his legs closed around her thighs just for a moment then he released her again. It was a crude, intimate gesture yet so quick that she wondered for a second whether it had happened at all. Her heart beat wildly as she sat back in the small chair. Eyes lowered, she unwound a length of toilet paper, tore it off the roll and proceeded to wipe her nose and then blow it hard. The paper was hard and unyielding, not suitable for the task' she was using it for. Having cleared her nose somewhat Tandia was forced to hold the sticky mess in her closed hand.
The police sergeant leaned backwards on his hands opening his crotch even further. 'Did you report this rape to the police?' he asked.
'No, sir,' Tandia replied softly.
'And where did this rape take place, and what time also?' Tandia spoke. in small sobs. 'This morning. About six o'clock. At the Indian cemetery. Where, whereâ¦they buried Mr Patel!'
'The person who you said raped you. Can you describe this man to me?'
'There were two of them, but I did not see them,' Tandia sniffed.
The sergeant raised his eyebrows, his voice affecting surprise. 'Now all of a sudden it's two men, hey! Two men raped you, but you didn't see them? How can this be? It is already light by six o'clock?'
'From behind, they grabbed me from behind. Only one raped me.' Tandia shuddered involuntarily.
The sergeant leaned forward and folded his arms across his chest, rocking slightly. 'This is a very curious business. They raped you in broad daylight, or one of them did anyway, and you didn't see them?'
'He told me to shut my eyes. Also the other one said if I opened my eyes he would kill me. I was very afraid!' How could she tell him that they had been policemen? He wouldn't believe her and any chance she had of getting off would be destroyed forever.
'And you didn't report this to the police?'
'No, no sir.'
'Why not? Don't you know it is against the law not to report a crime?'
'I was too afraid, sir,' Tandia replied softly.
'Afraid? All of a sudden you're afraid of the police? Innocent people got no reason to be afraid of the police. You prefer a rapist to a member of the Sou' African police force?'
'No, sir. I was very frightened, sir. I didn't know what to do, I didn't want to make any more trouble!'
'Oh, I see, you were already in trouble. What trouble is this? Tell me. What sort of trouble were you already in?'
'About Patel. Mrs Patel was going to kick me out.' Tandia whimpered, looking up and appealing to him with her eyes. 'She hates me.'
There was a long pause as the policeman appeared to be thinking. When at length he spoke there was a hard edge to his voice. 'I think you lying, you hear? You lying to me, jong.'
Tandia looked up in alarm. 'No, sir! It is true! I will swear on the Bible!'
The white man had the distant look in his eyes again, as though he could read things dancing in the air. When at last he spoke his voice was quiet. 'You a whore. A black whore who does it for money in the cemetery. Sies, man. Did you do it in the cemetery next to the grave where your father was buried?'
'No, no!' Tandia cried. And then she froze and her eyes widened in alarm. It had taken all this time to sink in. The voice, the frightening voice after the boot had rested on her neck as she lay at the foot of the marble cross, it belonged to the one in the graveyard who had been called Geldenhuis. It was Geldenhuis who was questioning her.
Tandia knew she was utterly and devastatingly beaten, that if she admitted she knew him she wouldn't leave the police station alive.
Geldenhuis changed tack suddenly. 'This money, you said you had to pay for a new gym frock? Where did you get this money?'
'It was mine, sir. I saved it for ten years.'
His voice suddenly boomed above her. 'You got this money from being a prostitute! You went to the coolie cemetery before school, most likely lots of times, and you did it there! You think I am stupid or something?'
'No, sir. It's not true, sir.'
'What is true and what is not true is not for you or me to say, it is only for the magistrate to decide. Where is this five pounds?' he said suddenly.
'I have it here,' Tandia whimpered.
The policeman stretched out his hand, 'Give it here,' he demanded.
Tandia knew she was badly trapped. 'I cannot show it to you, sir,' she whispered.
'You have this money concealed on your person, but you cannot produce it? Let me ask you a question. If you went to the lavatory, could you produce it then?'
Tandia said nothing.
'I see, the police know about these things. It is called a body search. Do you know who keeps their money in such a place?'
Again Tandia remained silent.
'Whores! That is the place prostitutes keep their money!'
'It is not what you think!' Tandia blurted out. She was distressed beyond tears. Geldenhuis had completely broken through her defences. If she took the money out of her bloomers right there in front of him, it would prove very little except that she was brazen enough to lift her skirt and put her hand down her pants. In his eyes this would only condemn her further. Tandia turned to look towards the black constable, but he immediately averted his eyes. She was beyond his help.
Geldenhuis lowered himself from the table and walked round to sit on the chair opposite her and called for the black constable to place the typewriter in front of him.
From a drawer in the table he removed a charge sheet and rolled it into the typewriter. He typed 'PATEL, Tandia', deliberately, using only two fingers, stopping when he had completed the two words. He then looked up casually at Tandia. 'Your address, what is your address?' he demanded.
'I have no address, sir,' Tandia replied.
'Vagrant,' the sergeant said, typing out the word slowly using only one finger to select each letter. 'No fixed address,' he said again deliberately pecking out the words on the typewriter. Then he looked up, leaned forward and placed his elbows on the table. 'Do you know what I'm doing?' he asked.
As he typed Tandia had tom off a length of toilet paper and blown her nose and attempted to wipe her tears. Her eyes were red-rimmed and swollen and her pretty little face was bruised and sore. She nodded her head in reply to Geldenhuis.
'I'm charging you with a one seven five, soliciting in a public place.' He shook his head as though regretting the need for what he was doing. 'It's so easy, you know. All you got to do is tell me the truth and you can go.' He cleared his throat, 'Look at me please,' he instructed. Tandia looked up at Geldenhuis across the table. He smiled and spread his hands and turned his palms upwards. 'Just tell me you did it in the cemetery and got paid for it, that's all. I'm a man of my word, just say, "Yes. Yes I did it, sergeant," and we won't lay a charge, you hear. You can leave the station with no police record. You know what it means to have a police record, don't you?'
Tandia's hands were on her lap curled around several messy scrunched balls of toilet paper and now she fixed her eyes on her clenched fists and remained silent. If she told a lie and said she was a whore, she was free, her life could begin again. If she maintained her innocence who was going to believe her? Who would believe that over ten years she had saved every penny, tickey and sixpence she had earned at Patel's printing shop, for getting the lunches for the men or running an errand or writing a letter for someone who couldn't write until she had five pounds of her own? If she admitted the truth, that it was two policeman who had raped her and that Geldenhuis was one of them she would not be alive for long, that was for sure., She was conscious of the white man looking down at her, fixing her with his pale eyes, eyes which she now perceived as more deadly than a snake. Tandia raised her head slowly until she looked directly at Geldenhuis. 'I will say it,' she said, and began to weep softly.
'No, man, saying it is not enough. I will write it down and then you will sign it, you hear?' Geldenhuis tried hard to conceal the triumph in his voice. He had broken her. He felt his erection grow almost to the point of release. Maybe she was only a schoolgirl but she wasn't stupid. What he had done required skill, real brains. He had won. It was better even than boxing.
Tandia knew she was hopelessly trapped. The last time she had refused to sign she had been hit and kicked unconscious and thrown into that foul-smelling cell. The thought of what Geldenhuis would do to her if she withheld her signature was almost more than she could bear.
This time the keys rattled along at a fair pace. He stopped once near the end. 'What is your Christian name, Matembu?' he asked the black policeman at the door.
The black constable straightened up. 'My name is Joshua, sir.'
Geldenhuis typed and removed the paper from the typewriter. He handed it to Tandia across the table. 'You read it first, then you sign it,' he said lightly.
Tandia, her hands shaking visibly, started to read the confession.
I, Tandia Patel, whose signature appears below, do knowingly and freely admit, in the presence of Sergeant J. T. Geldenhuis, a police officer stationed at the Cato Manor Police Station, that I did solicit for the purposes of sexual intercourse, two male persons unknown to me in the location of the Clairwood Indian Cemetery at approximately 6 a.m. on the 17th day of October 1952. And I further state that I did perform sexual intercourse with one of these men in return for the payment of the sum of five shillings.