Cannibal Man

by Dorothy Knight

  Chapter Fifteen

  Patel’s tiny shop was packed. Sauer looked the place over and thought that his bathroom was bigger than the reception area. The counter was packed with computer parts. Patel was running back and forth between customers.

  “Morning,” he greeted the policemen groggily. “You early…but I am ready for you guys. I was about to call you guys.”

  “I take it from your friendly welcome that you have good news for us,” Sauer said heaving his bulk onto the counter.

  “Some good and some bad,” Patel said. “But first let me finish with these customers. Man has got to eat you know.” Patel ran back and forth between several clients for about half an hour. Eventually, the detectives were alone in the shop. Patel closed the shop’s door and put the “Back in five minutes” sign up. Then the short Asian waved the detectives into the back of the shop.

  “Give us the good news first,” Sauer said. Hobbs also draped his tall body over a chair.

  “The good news is that I managed to break her code within a few seconds. Her password was FUCKMEHARD. You’d be surprised how many people use that password. Another favorite is SEXMENOW.” Patel hesitate for a moment, wanting a reaction. When he did not get any, he continued. “Most people just use the word PASSWORD.” He got no reaction from the detectives.

  “She was by no means an angel. She corresponded with several men over the Internet. Talking dirty, sharing sexual fantasies—that kind of stuff. She also had a stash of naked photographs of herself, in a variety of poses that she probably used to send to the boys. I think she liked her vibrator because she referred to it a lot.

  She also had lots of porn photos and even a few porn movies on her hard drives. Things that would make a prostitute blush. Very hard core. Very kinky. The better news is that I managed to trace all her on-line lovers. Most of them live abroad. There is one in the United Kingdom, two in Canada, four in America, and a couple in India and Pakistan. Those guys absolutely love to see naked, white woman. Then there is one—and he lives here in Johannesburg. He is with an Internet provider that services only Gauteng.”

  Hobbs straightened up. Sauer stood up with such force that the counter creaked loudly.

  “Tell me more—everything!” Sauer said.

  “He calls himself Grisly Bear. Describes himself as a stud of six feet, four inches, a dick of eleven inches, and claims to have a staying power that would put a bunny to shame. I wouldn’t take that too serious—most people exaggerate on the net. Most of the time you will find that they are married men leading very boring, ordinary lives with their fat wives and hordes of children. The bad news is that I don’t have his physical address. A mate of mine managed to track his signal to the south of Johannesburg. We managed to tie the signal to four blocks. With court orders you guys should be able to get the information from his Internet provider,” Patel said.

  On a piece of paper he jotted Grisly Bear’s e-mail address down and gave it to Sauer.

  The detectives could not believe their luck. “Thanks man!” Sauer patted the much shorter man on the shoulder.

  “We’ve got the bastard,” Sauer sang as he crossed the street back to their offices. He did not look for oncoming traffic. He never did. There was normally no time for that. Hobbs was inches ahead of him and was now running up the stairs two at a time. Hobbs ran straight to Superintendent Hansen’s office.

  “We have a big lead, but we need an interdict for an Internet provider,” Hobbs blurted at the old man behind the desk. The superintendent looked up at Hobbs over his glasses. Just then Sauer steamrollered into the office, heaving and snorting like an angry bull, waving the Internet address in front of the superintendent.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Within the hour they had their interdict. They ran down the stairs elated, like high school boys going on a first date. They went straight to the car, got in and took off with screaming tires. With blue lights flashing, most of the vehicles on the road actually allowed them to pass. They did this for one reason only. They did not feel like being stuck in traffic for hours on end. As they neared the offices of the Internet provider, Sauer switched the lights off. He grabbed the blue light through the open window from the roof and placed it on the dashboard. The boom at the security clearance entrance was up, so Sauer drove through. He could hear the security man shouting at him to stop.

  Sauer deliberately parked on the yellow loading zone right outside the Internet provider’s stylish office’s door. They climbed out of the car and slammed their doors, to let everybody know that they arrived. With very determined steps, they walked into the building.

  A security officer dressed pristinely in a grey uniform held a clipboard in his hand and waved them over. Sauer waved back, flapping his hand in the air like a queen. Another grey clothed security officer came running towards them from the outside. “Why did you not stop at the boom? You are not allowed to park there—please remove your car…” He said all in one breathe. He was still busy talking when Sauer barked, “Serious Crimes Unit.”

  “I don’t care. You must sign in like everyone else,” the clipboard security officer told the detectives. “Rules are rules.”

  Sauer lifted his left eyebrow into a frown and walked towards the reception area. If we don’t break the rules, we don’t get to catch our killers. “This is an extreme emergency. It is a matter of life and death. We need to see the manager or owner as soon as possible.”

  “Excuse me sir, but you have to sign in,” shouted clipboard and grabbed Sauer by the shoulder from behind. Sauer turned around and looked at the puny man before him. “Don’t touch me,” he hissed, turned and walked off. Clipboard ran after Sauer and grabbed him again from behind by his shoulder. Sauer turned around and pushed him effortlessly out of the way with such force that the man landed on his bottom and skidded backwards. Why do they always pick a fight with me and never with George? The two detectives walked to the reception area where a tiny, blond girl sat horrified behind the desk, her hand over her mouth.

  “Stop…or I will shoot!” Clipboard was up, his gun trembling in his right hand. Sauer saw the fear in his eyes. This was probably the first time he had ever pulled his gun. Sauer unbuttoned the first four buttons of his shirt, flared it open and pointed with his right index finger to his heart.

  “Don’t think I will not use it,” Clipboard shouted. The gun was still trembling in his hand. Sauer turned and took the last few steps to the reception desk. “Listen sunshine,” Sauer started, “we are from the police and we have an interdict. So please be so kind and direct us to the boss’s office.”

  The blond girl sat up slightly and picked up the phone. She dialed a few digits and then almost whispered into the hand piece, “The police are here with an interdict.” She looked over the detectives’ shoulders and gave a small yelp.

  “Put your hands on your heads and lie down on the floor,” Clipboard demanded.

  Hobbs and Sauer turned around simultaneously. Clipboard was now holding his service pistol in both hands, the barrel pointed at their faces.

  “What you going to do big boy? Arrest us?” Sauer asked

  Sauer and Hobbs looked at each other and started laughing at the man.

  “Put it away before you hurt yourself,” Hobbs added.

  “You have entered this premises illegally,” Clipboard screamed. “Now…lie face down on the floor…now!”

  He words were barely spoken when Hobbs kicked the gun from his hands. In an effort to catch the gun in the air Clipboard jumped closer to Hobbs, only to be stopped mid-air by a huge hand that slapped him across the face. He plopped down on the floor–lights out.

  The two turned back towards the reception desk. It was deserted.

  “Now where did she go?” Sauer wondered.

  From down the long hallway they heard urgent footsteps approaching. A tall woman walked towards them. Both Hobbs and Sauer couldn’t help but stare. The woman’s curly, blond hair flowed down to her hips. Her light blue dress molded her perfe
ct figure and her face was made up immaculately. As she got closer, Sauer could see the anger in her green eyes. Behind her, the blond receptionist. The tall woman looked at the two detectives, at Clipboard lying on the floor, and then at the detectives again.

  “Good morning,” she said, her arms folded tightly across her chest. “I am Amy Watson and this is my company.” She looked then both up and down. “I believe you want to see me about an interdict.”

  “Hi, I’m Timothy Sauer, and this is Captain George Hobbs,” he said fumbling through his pockets to find his identification card. He has never seen a woman this beautiful. Hobbs stared into Amy’s green eyes. She did not look away, but just glared back at him.

  “What can I do for you gentlemen,” she asked with an ice cold smile.

  “We have an interdict,” Sauer said. “We are looking for a physical address of one of your subscribers.” Sauer fumbled some more in his pockets but could not find the interdict. Eventually he found his identification card and held it to Amy’s face. She looked at the card and smiled. Sauer looked at the card in his hand and realized it was upside down and backwards. He smiled back at her and put the card back inside his pocket. Sauer could feel the blush rising from his neck to his face.

  “Where’s the fucking interdict,” Sauer hissed at Hobbs.

  “On the dashboard of the car, you cretin,” Hobbs hissed back, still not taking his eyes off Amy. “I thought you took it.”

  Just then, Clipboard stirred and drunkenly sat up. His face was red and already his right eye was starting to swell shut. The three of them stared at Clipboard and it was Sauer who spoke first. “Hey you, be so kind as to jog to our car outside and bring us the interdict that’s lying on the dashboard. That would be on the dashboard of the car that you want us to move.”

  Clipboard got up slowly and heavily swaying. He finally managed to focus and looked at Amy.

  “Carl, please go fetch the interdict on the dashboard of their car for me,” she repeated.

  Clipboard nodded his head, turned around and took a few steps. Then he stopped and turned to look at Amy again. “He hit me,” he said stunned. She remained quiet.

  “Come, come Carl. We don’t have all day. We have a killer to catch,” Sauer mimicked. Clipboard turned around and staggered towards the glass doors.

  “You can’t miss our car, Carl. It’s white and has four doors. Oh yes, and it’s parked right in front of your front door. About four steps out the door,” Sauer shouted after Carl. From where they stood they could clearly see their car.

  The blond girl sat down behind the reception and busied herself with paperwork.

  “Joan, I’ll be in my office with these two gentlemen. Please see to it that Carl brings us the interdict as soon as possible.”

  Amy led them down the hall. Both men only had eyes for her ass. It was firm and round, and Sauer swore that she was wearing a g-string. She stopped at a door so suddenly that Sauer walked slap-bang into her. He clashed into her with such force that she went flying off her feet. Before she hit the ground Sauer caught her and placed her back onto her feet again with his right arm. He held her for a few seconds to make sure she gained her balance. For a mere moment, their eyes locked. Then he stepped back and looked at the hallway floor. He knew Hobbs would be laughing at him.

  Amy straightened her clothes while looking at Sauer. Sauer stared down at Amy. She was so beautiful. Amy opened the door and walked into a huge office. It was a corner office with floor to ceiling glass that made for a spectacular view. Both of them followed her in.

  Amy was already behind the desk, all composed, calm and collected. Her cheeks were slightly flushed. She sat down in an over-sized, black swivel chair and indicated to the two detectives to sit down opposite her.

  Both stared at the stunning view from the office. It looked out on a massive garden, more like a park with water features and an immaculate lawn. Hobbs spotted a few benches carefully placed in spots with beautiful focal points.

  “Now what may I help you gentlemen with?” Amy brought them back to the matter at hand.

  “We are investigating a murder and we believe that your company can help us to track him down,” Sauer said.

  “Is this the notorious Face Lifter that we are talking about?” she asked.

  Sauer nodded. “We are following all possible leads. Some of the leads we have are via the Internet. And that is where you come in. We need the details of your subscriber.”

  “We’ll just wait for Carl to bring the interdict and then I’ll give you all the details,” Amy said.

  Sauer stared at Amy’s mouth, mesmerized by her voice. It was as sweet as fresh morning air. “We need that information rather urgently. Before another girl is killed,” he said, trying to sound emotionless and urgent. Instead, his voice sounded squeaky. Both Amy and Hobbs stared at Sauer.

  Oh man, what chance do I have with her with him around? Sauer thought, looking back at Hobbs.

  Amy turned in her chair, put on a pair of glasses and typed on the keyboard. The policemen only saw the back of the monitor.

  “What was the man’s e-mail address?” Amy asked.

  Sauer fumbled through his pockets again looking for the piece of paper Patel gave him. It was not in one of his jacket pockets, so he got up and started fumbling through the pockets in his pants. Eventually he found it in one of his pants back pockets and stretched across the table to give it to Amy. She took the piece of paper carefully and unfolded it slowly. She read what was written and though to herself for a moment. She turned to the monitor, and as she typed the details into the computer, there was a knock at the door.

  “Come in,” she shouted without looking up.

  Carl walked in. His face a little less red now, but the welts puffed up. He held the interdict in his left hand and their car keys in his right.

  “I parked the car for you,” was all Carl muttered before he handed the car keys and interdict to Sauer. He then turned around and walked out.

  Tail between his legs. Like a dog beaten. The detectives watched as he closed the door quietly behind him.

  Amy barely looked up through the interruption. Eventually she sat back in her chair and turned to face them again as the printer started spewing out paper. She got up and walked to the printer. The two detectives stared at her legs. She walked back to the table and handed the printed paper to the men. They read the details like hungry wolves. Andrew Donaldson, age 43, self-employed, resides at 178 Water Lily Avenue, Boksburg East.

  “We are forever in your debt,” Sauer said. Hobbs said nothing. His face was stony as he got up and walked to the door. Sauer excused himself and followed Hobbs. Now it was Amy’s turn to look at their backsides. Not bad. She like the way the big man walked—determined and with a course. But then she has always liked her men big and burly.

  At the front door Carl was waiting for them.

  “Where’s my car?” Sauer barked at him.

  “There,” Carl pointed at the car parked in a very important person spot to the side of the entrance.

  They strode to the car and got in. Sauer pulled away slowly. “Will you type the address into the GPS?” Hobbs nodded and busied himself with the device. It took about two minutes for the Global Positioning System to connect to the satellite. “At the next stop, turn to the left.” Sauer turned right.

  “Why?” Hobbs asked.

  “I know a short cut.”

  “Recalculating…” said the electronic female voice.

  “Why do you always have to be such a clown in front of pretty girls?” Hobbs lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply.

  “Because Georgie Boy, you freeze up when you see one. Someone has to entertain them.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  The traffic was getting thicker through the main streets of Johannesburg. Hobbs slapped their flashing, blue police light on the roof as Sauer was already tearing down the road. While driving, Hobbs phoned Superintendent Hansen. “We are on our way to the house of one Andrew Donaldson.�
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  “Do you need back up?”

  “No…we are just going to have a friendly chat with him.”

  “So I take it the traffic must be bad…”

  “Yes…at least most people give us right of way.”

  After the phone call, Hobbs switched on the sirens. It made driving in the traffic so much easier. Boksburg, an industrial area east of Johannesburg, was far from the grand offices of Amy Watson. Despite the flashing lights and sirens, it took the detectives , more than forty minutes to get there.

  About a block from Andrew Donaldson’s house, the alias Grisly Bear, Sauer slowed down and drove at a respectable speed. Let’s not alert the asshole. Hobbs turned the siren off.

  “Decent neighborhood,” Hobbs remarked

  “Yes, all shiny and clean on the outside…like so many Christians we know.” Sauer paused, driving even slower looking for the right address.

  “With the filth and gore kept safely behind the high walls and manicured lawns.”

  Sauer parked the car on the outside lawn of house number 178. They got out quietly not slamming their doors and walked towards the front gate. They tried their best to look like encyclopedia salesmen. The property was well secured. High palisade walls surrounded the property with the electric gate as the only entrance. Sauer had to bend down to push the intercom button. He turned his head so that his ear was next to the loudspeaker.

  “Yes,” a woman’s voice said. “What do you want?”

  “Ma’am, we are from the police and we would like to speak with you for a few minutes.”

  “The police? What for? We did not report anything. There was no crime here,” the voice said.

  “I know ma’am. We would like to ask you a few questions. That’s all.” Sauer tried his best to remain calm. He was not in a mood to go back to the center of town and get another interdict. Time is of the essence in this game.

  “Have you got any identification?” the woman asked.