The Death of the Mantis (19 page)

“I love the desert and love going where there’s nobody around.
Solitude – that’s what I look for.”

“Why not in Namibia? There’s plenty of space for solitude
here.”

“True. But I like to follow the trails of old explorers,
especially the Germans. And Botswana appeals to me for some
reason.”

Kubu decided to push him. “What were you looking for, Mr
Haake?”

Haake frowned. “I told you – solitude. I was exploring.”

“Mr Haake, I don’t believe you. You told Detective Tau that you
were following a map. What were you really looking for?”

Haake shifted in his seat. “Detective Tau’s got it wrong. I said
I often follow old maps. I’ve told you already. I follow the trails
of old explorers.” He stood up and poured another cup of tea. Kubu
could see that he was agitated.

“Tell me more about these maps.”

“They’re just old maps. Nothing specific. I get some from the
library. Some from old books by explorers. It’s interesting to
follow where they went, imagining their difficulties and
bravery.”

“Did you have one with you on this trip?”

Haake shook his head. “No, I was just wandering around.”

“Let’s return to Krige. Is it possible that he was looking for
you?”

“Why would he do that?”

“He was a private investigator.”

Haake gave him a strange look. “He was? I can’t imagine why he’d
be looking for me. Much more likely he was tracking the person who
killed him. Maybe he found him, and the killer didn’t want to be
found.”

Kubu nodded. That possibility had occurred to him also.

“Where do you live, Mr Haake?”

Haake hesitated before answering. “I have a house in
Luderitz.”

“How about last night? I’m sure you didn’t fly up from Luderitz
just to see me. And tonight? Where will you stay tonight?”

Another hesitation. “I stay with a friend here in Windhoek.”

“And the address, Mr Haake?”

“My friend’s got nothing to do with this.”

“That may be true. I just want the address, please. And I
wouldn’t play games if I were you.”

Haake jumped to his feet. “What the fuck is going on here?” he
shouted. “You’re treating me like a fucking criminal. I could’ve
left the body in the desert, and no one would’ve known any
better.”

“I’m not treating you like a criminal, Mr Haake. You’re behaving
like one. What are you hiding?”

“I don’t have to answer your questions!”

“That’s true. But if I suggest to the Namibian police that
you’re a suspect in a murder, you
will
have to answer
questions. All I want is the address where you’re staying. That’s
not difficult, is it?”

Haake glared at Kubu. He spat out the address. “Now can I
go?”

“Yes, Mr Haake. Thank you for your time.” Kubu heaved himself
out of his chair and offered his hand. After a moment’s hesitation,
Haake shook it.

“How often do you go to Botswana?” Kubu asked as they walked to
the door.

“Once every month or two.”

“Always to the same place?”

Haake shook his head. “I go to a lot of different places.
Botswana’s got plenty of interesting areas.”

“Do you ever run into Bushmen?”

“No. They’re all in settlements now, aren’t they? None roam
around any more like they used to, do they?”

Kubu didn’t answer that. “I hope you find your solitude, Mr
Haake,” he said.

♦

Kubu sat thinking about Haake. He’s got a quick temper, he
thought. Still, he said nothing that made me suspicious, except
that he volunteered Krige’s name. And I didn’t feel he was really
surprised about Krige being a private investigator. But maybe it
was
just a coincidence that both he and Krige were from
Namibia. He shook his head. Sometimes there were coincidences.

At that moment Helu walked in.

Kubu sighed. “I didn’t make any progress. I think Haake’s clean.
But do me a favour, please. Can you check whether there’ve been any
radio, TV or newspaper reports of Krige’s death? Haake knew Krige’s
name even though I never mentioned it.” Helu’s face expressed
surprise, and he promised to find out. “Also can you find out who
lives at this address? Haake says he stays with a friend there. He
didn’t want to give it to me. I’d like to know why not.” He
scribbled the address Haake had given him on to a slip of
paper.

“Finally, is there an office I can use?” he asked, wanting some
time alone.

Helu showed Kubu to a vacant office and told him to use the
phone as much as he wanted. Kubu shut the door, took his shoes off,
put his feet on the desk and closed his eyes. Not to sleep, of
course, but to let his subconscious massage the few known facts in
the case.

♦

After lunch, Helu walked into Kubu’s office.

“The address Haake gave you – it’s an apartment, which he rents,
but according to the manager, a young woman lives there. He’s not
sure whether she’s Haake’s girlfriend – he stays there quite often
– but she has occasional visitors when he’s away on business. Her
name is Use Burger, and she’s a part-time receptionist. No record.
And we did release Krige’s name to the press after we’d spoken to
his mother, but now we’ll have to check to see whether they used it
and when.”

Helu tossed a piece of paper on to the desk, and Kubu glanced at
it. It confirmed the address Haake had given him, as well as the
details Helu had told him. There was also a phone number, which
Kubu assumed was for the apartment.

With nothing left to do, Kubu wandered around the city centre
before returning to his hotel. He phoned Joy and told her he would
be back on Thursday evening. He hoped he was right and that he
wouldn’t have to disappoint her again.

♦

On Tuesday morning there was indeed progress. Shortly after nine
a.m., Helu met Kubu with a big smile. “I’ve got the bank statements
and phone records. And amazingly quickly. Normally they’d take a
week to get to me.”

He sat down next to Kubu and they compared the most recent bank
statement with the list of payments recorded in Krige’s files. All
the large deposits checked out except the last one, an amount of
ten thousand Namibian dollars.

“What’s the date of the deposit?” asked Kubu.

Helu checked it. “Friday the twenty-fifth of February.”

“That’s just a few days before he left for Botswana. Who paid it
to him?”

It took Helu some time to get that information, while Kubu
waited impatiently, wishing he was doing the job himself. At last
Helu hung up the phone and turned to him.

“It’s an operation called the Namib Mining Company. Never heard
of them. And I’m sure that Krige didn’t have a recent case file for
them. But we’ll check again.”

Kubu was already exploring the telephone directory. “They’re
here in Windhoek Let’s give them a call.”

Finding the right person and persuading her to give the
information they wanted over the phone didn’t take long. Kubu hung
up and turned to Helu with a disappointed grunt.

“The person who authorised that payment is a Mr Muller – Henk
Muller. The same name as in the diary. He’s their managing
director. But he’s in South Africa until tonight and not reachable
there. And we
still
don’t know why Krige was hired, if he
was hired at all. Muller’s secretary told me that Muller would be
in at about nine tomorrow morning, so I made an appointment with
her.” He flipped through the file of papers. “Let’s look at those
phone records.”

Sure enough, they found several calls from Krige to the mining
company in the two weeks before his trip.

“I’m sure this is why Krige went to Botswana, Detective
Sergeant. Would you check your database for Muller and this
company? See if there is anything on them?”

He climbed to his feet and started to pace. How was he going to
wait until the next morning to find out?

∨
The Death of the Mantis
∧

T
au had returned to
the petrol station several times since his first visit. To no
avail. None of the cashiers or attendants remembered either of the
men in the pictures he showed them.

Now it was Wednesday morning, and he hoped that the last of the
cashiers was going to be on duty. He’d discovered that the roster
he’d so carefully copied was only a guideline to who would be on
duty when. The reality was quite different.

“Hello, Mma,” Tau said politely to the cashier. “Have you seen
either of these two men recently?” He handed her the two
photographs.

“Hmm. They look familiar. I think they were here about a week
ago. Maybe two weeks.” Tau’s heart jumped – she knew them!

“Were they together?”

“No. I don’t think so. One came in around lunch. This one came
in later in the afternoon.” She pointed at the picture of
Krige.

“Did he say anything to you?”

“No. Bought some petrol and bottled water, then left.”

“How do you remember that? You must have hundreds of
customers.”

“We don’t get too many white customers. This one, he wanted
sparkling water, but we were out of it. But he made me go into the
back and check. Wasn’t happy that we had none. What have they
done?”

Tau pointed to the picture of Haake. “We just need to ask this
one some questions. If he stops in again, please phone me.” He
wrote his name and phone number on the copy of Haake’s passport
photo and left it on the counter.

Just as Tau was getting into his car, the cashier came running
after him. “Rra Tau, Rra Tau. I just remembered. The man who came
later did say something. He asked me if I’d seen this one.” She
waved Haake’s photo in the air. “He also showed me a photo. On his
camera. I’m sure it was the same man.”

Tau jumped out of the car in excitement. The other detectives
would be very pleased with him. He pulled out his notebook and
laboriously took down all the details, ignoring the shouts of
several customers wanting to pay for their petrol. He checked that
the attendant was sure which of the two men had asked about the
other. It was definitely Krige who had asked about Haake. When he
was finished, he thanked the woman, and she scuttled back inside to
deal with a restless line of drivers.

Tau was ecstatic. He couldn’t wait to get back to the station
and phone Lerako.

“They knew each other,” he would say importantly. “Krige was
looking for Haake.”

♦

Helu picked up Kubu punctually at quarter to nine and drove to
the offices of the Namib Mining Company, which were situated close
to Eros airport. As far as he had been able to determine, Muller
and the company were clean.

They were sipping coffee when Henk Muller walked in.

“Mr Muller,” the secretary said the moment he stepped in, “these
gentlemen are from the police. They want to talk to you.”

Muller frowned. “Come into my office.” He held the door open.
“Please sit down. What can I do for you?” He walked behind his
desk, sat down and leant back, arms folded.

“I’m Detective Sergeant Philemon Helu, and this is Assistant
Superintendent David Bengu of the Botswana police.” He turned to
Kubu. “Why don’t you explain why you are here?”

“Mr Muller. Do you know a man by the name of Joseph Krige?”

Muller didn’t answer immediately, but looked from one detective
to the other.

“Yes. As a matter of fact, I do.”

“How do you know him?”

“I recently hired him to do a small job for me.”

“What sort of job?” Helu asked.

“Sonya,” Muller shouted, “please bring me some coffee and get
some more for the detectives. And bring some cake as well.”

He ran his fingers through his hair and put his elbows on the
table.

“About three weeks ago, I discovered that some valuable data was
missing from one of our filing cabinets. Secret stuff. I suspected
that it had been stolen by an employee we fired about six weeks
ago. I hired Krige to see whether he could confirm that.”

“What was actually taken?” Kubu asked.

“It was a folder containing several DVDs of data, as well as
printouts of that information overlaid on maps.”

“Why didn’t you come to the police?” Helu snapped.

“As you know, we are in the mining business. We have a lot of
highly confidential information about prospects, and I felt that…”
Muller hesitated, “that I’d rather handle it myself. I felt I
couldn’t make accusations until I had hard evidence. I was planning
to come to you when I had that evidence.”

“Who was the employee you got rid of?” Kubu asked.

“A geologist who’d been with us for several years. Very good,
but had no discipline. Often disappeared for days without telling
anyone or filing for leave. Always said he was on company business.
It’s hard to check when people are in the field. His name is
Wolfgang Haake.”

Helu whistled in surprise, and Kubu sat upright in his
chair.

“You know him?” Muller asked, puzzled at the reaction he had
provoked. “How do you know him?”

Kubu took a deep breath and marshalled his thoughts.

“So let me be sure I understand what’s going on. One: you had a
geologist on staff – named Wolfgang Haake?”

Muller nodded, frowning.

“Two: you fired him because you thought he was abusing the leave
policy?”

“Well, that. But mainly he wouldn’t follow orders. He always had
his own views on everything, and ignored what head office wanted
him to do. Just went off and did his own thing.”

“Okay. Then three: a few weeks after he left, you noticed an
important folder of information missing?”

Muller nodded again.

Kubu lifted his hand with four fingers extended. “Four: you
suspected Haake and hired Krige to find out whether Haake had
indeed stolen this data?”

“Yes!” Muller’s frown deepened.

Kubu gathered his thoughts.

“What did Krige report back to you?”