She quickly finished the edit, not realising her cameraman had captured the dark silhouette of Daddy Long Legs.
Fifteen
‘There’s a leak in this office. And when I discover who it is, I will prosecute you to the full extent of the law.’
Human was furious. Enraged. He was standing in the middle of the main room of Eighteen Hill Street where he had convened an emergency meeting. Most of the detectives in the task group were gathered around Human, including Engelman and his team. The mood was sullen. ‘I swear to God,’ Human continued, ‘if I discover that anybody has been communicating with the press, I will have your badge and make sure you spend the rest of your days in Polsmoor.’ Polsmoor was the infamous Cape Town prison, made notorious because of the vicious ‘Numbers’ gangs like the twenty-eights, the twenty-sevens and the twenty-sixes. Human eyed his squad with intensity. Someone from within their ranks was a traitor. Someone was playing a very dangerous game with a very dangerous killer. Human sighed expansively. And forced himself to calm down. ‘Guys, this entire investigation is predicated upon confidentiality ... and trust. The killer is already a step ahead of us. If he knows everything we know, if he knows everything we do, he’s going to remain ahead of us. And we’ll never succeed.’ Human looked at his detectives in silence. ‘Please, if you know anything. If you know of any improprieties, you have to let me know. We’re not only dealing here with a murderer, but our reputations are also at stake. All our reputations. We have to work together, else we’re all screwed.’ A few of the policemen nodded mutely. ‘Okay, let’s get going. We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.’
Human dismissed his detectives. A fiery coal burned in his gut. He rubbed his abdomen, frowning. Was he finally developing an ulcer, he wondered? After all these years? Dammit.
Human watched his detectives disperse. Watching the morning news, and learning about the leak, had sent his blood-pressure skyrocketing. And his head spinning. The leak had been disastrous. At this stage, the Facebook angle was one of their best leads. In fact, it was probably their single best lead. Who could have leaked the info to the press? Who could have betrayed the investigation? Of course he had his suspicions, he thought, as he watched Engelman make his way across the room. But the truth is that many, especially the senior detectives, had access to the information. The final conclusion was too terrible to contemplate, Human thought, as he turned to face Lerato. He smiled at her with tight lips. He would have to watch everyone closely, he decided. Everyone.
‘Detective Human, I’m so sorry about the leak. I –’
Human grabbed her bodily and shoved her into the filing room. The room was empty. ‘Tell me now; did you have anything to do with this? I need to know, I need to know right now.’ Her eyes were large and terrified. ‘I’m all alone here, Lerato. I’m completely alone. I have no-one here. I need to know now. I need to know right now. Can I trust you?’ Lerato Mathafeng looked at Human, her lips trembling. ‘Can I trust you, Lerato?’
‘I would never do anything to betray you, Detective Human.’ Her hands, held in front of her, were shaking visibly. Human released her. Somehow. He knew. She was not the one.
‘I’m sorry.’ He felt both regret. And relief. ‘I didn’t mean to frighten you. I didn’t mean to accuse you.’ He turned from her. ‘Things have been insane. Instead of catching a deranged killer, I’ve had to deal with a million other things. I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to frighten ... or hurt you.’
Lerato reached out and gently touched his back. ‘Don’t apologise.’ She looked at him intently. ‘They don’t understand how much you give of yourself. They don’t understand ...’ She paused. ‘They don’t understand that you’re the only hope they have.’ Human turned to her. Surprised at the gentle sincerity of her words.
‘Thank you,’ Human said softly. They stared at each other in silence.
And then a junior detective entered the room. And the moment was broken. Human turned to the policeman and assumed a brusque manner, feeling embarrassed. ‘Colonel Potgieter sent through his profile, sir.’ He handed Human a sealed envelope.
‘Has anyone else seen this?’ Human asked.
‘No, sir.’
‘Okay. Here’s the deal,’ he said, taking the large manila envelope from the detective, ‘from now on all evidence and all files will only be available on request. And we will keep a detailed log of everyone who accesses our files. Is that clear?’ The detective nodded. ‘I want you to inform everybody, okay?’
‘Yes, sir. Straight away.’ He exited.
Human turned to Lerato. ‘I want you to have a look at this as soon as I’ve been through it.’ She nodded, her face betraying a flicker of delight at his words. ‘From now on only you and I have unrestricted access to the files.’ Lerato said nothing. But she was clearly awed. ‘The other detectives aren’t going to like it, but right now I don’t give a damn.’
‘Thank you, sir. I won’t disappoint you.’ Somehow Human knew that she wouldn’t. She frowned slightly. ‘Detective Human, what did you mean about the pornography? When you said the killer wouldn’t have pornography in his possession? During the press conference.’
‘Oh that?’ Human took a deep breath.
‘I mean, didn’t Doctor Nieuwoudt’s report state that the serial murderer ... erm ...’ She turned and dug into her satchel. She pulled a copy of Human’s notes from its depths whereupon she furiously paged until she reached a desired location. ‘He wrote the murderer may be ‘fixated on sado-masochism as well as bondage material’’. She looked at Human. ‘Doesn’t that imply pornography, as well?’
‘Yes, it does.’ Human nodded slowly, impressed with her question. ‘However, it’s my own opinion that the good doctor got that wrong. After a review of his psychopathy, I came to the conclusion that one of the things that makes our killer so incredibly efficient and effective in evading capture, is the ... rigid compartmentalisation of his mind.’ Lerato looked at Human, mystified. ‘Remember our ... erm ... discussion of the B.T.K. case yesterday?’
Lerato averted her eyes, smiling in slight embarrassment. ‘Yes.’
‘Well I believe our killer has one more thing in common with Mr Rader. Look at Rader’s life. He had a family with two daughters, I believe, and was an upstanding member of his church, right? And yet, he was one of the most vicious serial killers ever. Not only killing without compunction, but boasting to the media and police about it. In the same way, our own killer’s mind is obsessively compartmentalised. His ‘serial killer’ life is completely separate from his ‘ordinary life’. There is a high-security, electrified fence between the two. And they never meet ... or overlap. It’s what allows him to be so good at what he does. The sick, aberrant thrills live in the serial killer part of his mind, whereas the everyday grocery shopping and socialising duties and so on live in the other part of his mind. All serial killers have varying degrees of compartmentalisation, but it’s in the organised serial killer where we find a highly refined form of this. Dahmer kept rotting corpses in his flat. Gein kept lampshades made from human skin in his squalid farm house. Not our Daddy. If you had to search his house, you wouldn’t find anything to indicate that a serial killer lived there.
‘Wow. I see.’ Lerato rubbed her chin, digesting everything Human had told her.
Human looked at the envelope in his hand. ‘I need to get going on this.’ He moved to his desk.
Lerato looked at the envelope. ‘Detective?’ She approached him gingerly. ‘I had an idea last night, as I was reading through your notes.’
Human looked at her with interest. ‘Uh-huh?’
She consulted her notes. ‘It was something you referred to. Something that the original detectives also pointed out.’ She paged, frowning. Then stopped. ‘You mentioned that the last three murders showed significant anomalies, specifically with regard to modus operandi.’ She looked at Human. ‘As if the killer had been distracted, as if he had been experiencing some sort of trauma or as if something happened in his per
sonal life.’
Human’s interest was now piqued. ‘Carry on.’
Lerato continued, emboldened by Human’s encouragement. ‘I agree with you, and with Doctor Nieuwoudt. The killer was definitely a ‘family man’. Why else would he get a vasectomy? Right?’
‘Absolutely. It certainly wouldn’t make him a more effective killer. And this was way before DNA testing, so that couldn’t have been a consideration.’ Lerato grabbed a chair and seated herself next to Human. Excited. Two kindred spirits ablaze with the possibilities of catching a killer.
‘Right. So he’s a family man, we agree.’
Human leaned forward, sensing that Lerato was onto something. ‘Exactly. Just because he’s a psychopath, doesn’t mean he doesn’t love. The Green River killer adored and fawned over his wife. She had never experienced such love. Her own words.’
‘John Wayne Gacy was a wonderful and loving father.’
‘Yes, exactly.’
Lerato stared at Human with flaming intensity. ‘Exactly. So what if he became distracted because of something that happened to a family member? Some kind of protracted illness or something. Maybe even a death?’
‘That’s highly likely,’ Human said, beginning to understand where she was going.
‘So, given that, what if I investigate the records of that period, anything to do with drawn-out illnesses or deaths, of related family members.’
‘Wives ... sons ... daughters.’ Human leaned back, elated. For the first time in days he was feeling excited about the case. ‘My goodness, Lerato, that’s a brilliant idea.’ He looked at her with true admiration. ‘Well done.’ She blossomed under his praise, beaming. Her dazzling white smile illuminated her entire face, like a bright dawn after a stormy night. ‘I want you to get onto it right away. Nothing else interferes with this, you got me?’ She nodded enthusiastically. ‘But first ...’ He looked around, to see if they were alone. Debating with himself whether he should tell her. He leaned forward. ‘This is incredible,’ he said, barely above a whisper. ‘But last night, I had an idea myself.’
She leaned forward, thrilled. ‘Really?’
Human looked around. He wanted no-one else to hear his words. ‘In serial killer parlance, profilers distinguish between becoming and become. All serial killers develop slowly, over a period of time. From fantasy ... to the first tentative – often failed – acts ... to a fully developed modus operandi, or signature. Yet our Daddy arrived on the scene fully formed. And never ... following that first murder, did he ever vary that signature. Which can mean only one thing. He had to develop his signature somewhere else.’
‘Oh my God. I understand.’
‘At that stage, he had become as opposed to becoming. It also means he must have relocated to Hope shortly before the first murder. Simply because there had never been a similar, paedophile-related crime in Hope ... ever. Which means he must have cut his teeth, so to speak, somewhere else.’
‘Yes, of course.’ She nodded eagerly.
‘So,’ Human continued, delighted that she was following his train of thought, ‘if I can trace all those people who transferred to Hope ... if I can investigate all those who moved here during that period, then try and find similar crimes in their original locations, I believe we can get our man. And if your idea pans out, it means we’ve got solid corroboration.’ Human grabbed Lerato’s hand. ‘I think we’re getting close. For the first time, I think we’re getting close to catching this sick bastard.’ Lerato squealed with delight. Then immediately brought both hands to her mouth as her exclamation attracted the attention of nearby detectives. Human smiled at her enthusiasm. ‘This whole time I’ve been investigating the wrong angle. I’ve been focusing on why he stopped killing. Instead, I should have been concentrating on when and where he started killing.’
‘That’s brilliant ... Detective Human.’
Human noted the pause. He leaned forward, speaking sotto voce. ‘You can call me Wayne,’ he said. ‘Just ... not in front of the others.’ He indicated the other room-full of detectives with his head. Over Lerato’s shoulder he noticed a tall, attractive man with closely-cropped hair talking to one of the detectives.
‘Okay.’ Lerato nodded, beaming. ‘But then I want you to call me Lerato.’
‘It’s a deal,’ Human said, standing. The man, wearing a Batman t-shirt, Levi’s denims and a Quicksilver hoodie, was approaching them. He entered the filing room, his eyes on Human.
‘Detective Human?’
‘Yes?’
‘My name is Kyle Devlin. Pleased to meet you.’ He extended his hand. Human shook it, frowning.
‘Devlin? That name ...’
Kyle spoke with difficulty. ‘My brother ... he was –’
‘Oh yes, of course,’ Human said. ‘He was the last ... victim. In eighty-eight.’
Kyle nodded sombrely, forcing a smile to pursed lips. ‘That’s right.’ Human stood for a moment, not knowing what to say.
‘Oh please forgive my manners,’ he said pointing at Lerato. ‘This is detective Lerato Mathafeng.’ Lerato stood up and shook Kyle’s hand.
‘Pleased to meet you, detective.’ He looked at Human. ‘I ... I just wanted to meet you, detective. And to tell you I appreciate what you’re doing.’
‘Thank you, Mr Devlin. I –’
‘Kyle, please.’
‘Okay ... Kyle.’ Human smiled. ‘Thank you. I know it can’t be easy, now that the killer has returned.’
Kyle shook his head. ‘It’s one of those things.’ He looked at the pretty detective who was staring up at Human. ‘I believe in you. You’re going to get him.’
‘Well, as long as I have people like Detective Mathafengworking for me, he doesn’t stand a chance.’ Lerato beamed at Human. Kyle looked on, smiling. They stood for a moment, silent.
‘Uh, well, actually, I just wanted to invite you for a drink some time,’ Kyle said. ‘On me.’ He smiled at Human. ‘I’m sure you could use the break.’
‘Thank you,’ Human said, surprised. ‘I’m a bit busy at the moment, but I may just take you up on that. Soon.’
‘Good. I’m gonna keep you to that.’ He smiled at Lerato. ‘Okay then, officers.’ He mock saluted them. ‘I’ll leave you to it then.’ He shook both Human and Lerato’s hands. ‘See you soon,’ he said, pointing a finger at Human. And then he was gone.
Human had no way of knowing. But their paths would soon cross again. In a profound way. That would change both their lives ... forever.
Sixteen
Over the next two days, Human and Lerato and the other detectives of the squad busied themselves with their various avenues of investigation. Human wasted no time in immersing himself in the profile compiled by Potgieter. Unfortunately, Potgieter indicated – to Human’s great disappointment – that his profile was severely compromised by a tainted crime scene. Although the autopsy had been useful, the profiler suggested he could only arrive at a practical profile once he had investigated a second dump site. The thought of yet another dead boy disgusted Human and inspired him to even greater efforts.
The profile did confirm a few crucial points though. There were significant indications of marked escalation. The profiler stated that the killer’s ‘cooling-off’ period had most likely shrunk to a few weeks, instead of a few months. Ominously, Potgieter indicated that this cooling-off period may even be shorter. It confirmed Human’s worst fears. And heightened his concerns that the killer could strike at any moment. As a precaution, Human hooked up a recording device to the Hope Gazette’s telephone system. He could only hope that he and Lerato’s frenzied investigations would yield results before another boy disappeared.
Human also held another press conference, assuring the media that they were investigating solid leads. Next to him, featuring prominently, was Lerato. He introduced her as the latest member of the team. And allowed her to field several questions from the press. As Ndabane had promised, she was a media star. At least three publications ran a sub-story on the latest addition
to the Daddy Long Legs squad.
True to his word, Joemat expanded the ranks of the Guardians to around fifty. In addition, added to the crowds that thronged the town of Hope, were added three separate camera crews, filming Shanghai Mohale’s reality TV show. Human expressly forbade his detectives from speaking to the crews.
As Human had feared, the Guardians – a very visible presence in the town – soon started causing problems however. There were widespread reports of intimidation. And at least two complaints regarding sexual harassment. Others complained that the so-called protectors of Hope were rude, arrogant and self-righteous. The Goths, who were still milling around Hope, complained that they were being unfairly targeted by the Guardians. More than one gathering had been rudely broken up and several members of this sub-culture reported that they were being stalked. They were unfortunately an easy target.
In one case, a Guardian detained a man who was dating his ex-girlfriend. In another, a member of the Guardians conducted ad hoc searches of a former employer who had dismissed him some months earlier.
It was ‘tit for tat’ and Human wasn’t surprised. Most of the members of the Guardians came from the ranks of the unemployed and the economically destitute. These were people who had been at the wrong end of justice their whole lives. People who had been at the blunt end of an economic pyramid their entire existence. It was a world that offered no escape whatsoever. No possibility of financial upliftment. And now. Suddenly, they were awarded positions of prestige. Tasked with an important duty. And more importantly, granted power. A vindictive attitude was not surprising. Neither was the widespread abuse of power. The oppressed had finally become the oppressor. Human nature is an hour glass.
Over the next few days, many citizens called for the disbanding of the Guardians. Others demanded that the police become involved. Unfortunately, because the directive had come from the Premier’s office, there was nothing they could do. For now – at least – the Guardians were here to stay. Although many residents and visitors had an extremely negative experience of the Guardians, the media spin was overwhelmingly positive, however. With the help of Shanghai Mohale, of course. Here, the Guardians were being portrayed as noble and self-sacrificing heroes. Gallant knights of justice. One interview depicted Gert and Gatiep Booysen (two Guardian brothers) giving tearful testimonies, lamenting their hard, unfortunate lives. Despite the unfair treatment that they had often experienced at the hands of society, they were now – altruistically – willing to give back. Gert and Gatiep became minor celebrities, appearing on an SABC breakfast show and at least three radio stations. Nobody – however – bothered to mention that Gert spent six years in prison for sodomising his thirteen-year old daughter and that Gatiep had given his wife permanent brain damage after violent and repeated beatings.
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