Daddy Long Legs

by Vernon W. Baumann

  ‘That’s a very serious allegation, my broer.’

  ‘I know, sir. I understand the implications. I know they’re very serious. Except, right now, I simply don’t have the time or the resources to track down a mole ... on top of trying to catch a killer.’

  ‘I understand.’ There was a pause on the other end of the line. ‘So, Wayne, what do you want me to do?’

  Speaking forcibly and without apology, Wayne Human outlined exactly what he needed from the Director for Priority Crime Investigation. When he was done, there was a stunned silence. ‘You know there will be ramifications, Detective Human.’ Ndabane’s use of Human’s surname underscored the gravity of his request.

  ‘I know sir. But right now I don’t give a damn.’ Even Human was surprised at the intensity of his vitriol. Never, in all his time as a detective, had he ever addressed the director with such forcefulness. ‘All political realities aside, there is the life of a premier’s son at stake. I will be happy to face the consequences. After I’ve apprehended this sick son of a bitch.’

  There was a loaded silence as Human waited for the director’s reply. Everything hinged on it. Finally he spoke. ‘Fine. I’m going to try my best. But I can’t guarantee anything. This has never happened before.’

  ‘Sir, I’m sure you’ll find that we have support at the highest levels of government.’

  ‘I hope so. For your sake, detective.’ And then the call was over. Human breathed a sigh of relief. It was done. Or so he hoped.

  Almost a thousand clicks away, in the halls of power that crisscross the nation’s administrative capital, a call was made. Then another. And another. The Police Commissioner was contacted. Then the Minister of Safety and Security. In a conference call, the security top brass engaged in a heated debate. And then. Almost three hours after Human placed the call, his request was approved.

  And then they came. From within the heavily secured core of the Musanda Building in Pretoria. They came.

  Through the streets of Pretoria on the N14 heading west. They came. Averaging a speed of a hundred and eighty kilometres per hour. They came. No traffic officer stopped them. No policemen dared stop them.

  They came. Six black BMW X5 SUV’s. Armoured. Black as night. Tinted windows. They came. With the distinctive blue sirens. The blue sirens of the National Intelligence Agency and the South African Secret Service.

  And then finally. With Steynbrug on the left. They finally slowed. Scores of astonished residents lined the streets. Watching. Watching the six BMW X5 SUV’s. Black as night. With the blue sirens. Rolling through town. Store owners abandoned their customers. And came outside. To watch the convoy. The six SUV’s. Black as night. As they rolled down Wide Street. All along Hope’s main street, people stopped. And gawked. Staring in astonishment. At the convoy. Black as night. And then. Taking a right at the commons. And passing Kyle’s guesthouse. They came to a stop. Outside the police station.

  The Human’s Pretoria boys had arrived in Hope. Sixteen detectives from Wachthuis, handpicked by Human himself. Transported in vehicles lent by the South African National Intelligence Agency.

  Human, Witbooi and Lerato met them in front of the police station. And led them through the public service area to the quad formed by the horseshoe-shaped police station. Standing in the open courtyard were all the detectives that had been working on the case thus far. Included were Dirk Engelman and his squad of Hope detectives. Human had convened an emergency meeting after the fire at Eighteen Hill Street. He now stood on the porticoed walkway, his Wachthuis detectives behind him. Human faced the group of policemen standing in the quad, looking solemn. Hushed whispers and clustered conversations ended as they saw Human. He cleared his throat. ‘I asked all of you to meet me here today ... to discuss something of great importance.’ He paused as he surveyed the confused faces. ‘As you’re all aware by now, we had a fire at our headquarters last night. I am now able to confirm, without a doubt, that the fire was as a result of arson.’ A murmur passed through the detectives in the quad. ‘In addition, there are indications that the fire was an inside job. The fire was the work of one of our own.’ At this, the detectives broke into a raucous wave of shouting. Human waited until the disturbance had died down. ‘This is not the first instance of ... sabotage. We have suffered several damaging leaks and other setbacks. All the work of an unknown saboteur. I cannot allow this to happen any longer. Last night’s fire was the last straw.’ Some of the detectives folded their arms and frowned. They knew what was coming. ‘We are at a watershed in this investigation, a cross-roads, if you like. Premier Joemat’s son was abducted yesterday, as you’re aware. If we work assiduously, if we work with focus, we can apprehend the killer. And be in time to save the life of Alexander Joemat. However, as long as we’re plagued by this insidious sabotage, we will never achieve anything. I cannot allow that to happen.’

  ‘What are you saying, detective?’ It was Dirk Engelman.

  ‘Yes, what are you saying? Shouldn’t we be following leads?’ It was another detective whose name eluded Human.

  Human ignored the questions. ‘Recent developments ... and the incredibly sensitive nature of this investigation has forced my hand and ... forced me to initiate certain harsh measures I had hoped would never be necessary.’ There was a restless stirring amongst the congregated detectives. ‘As of today, and effective immediately, I have decided to disband the Hope task force.’ He gave the group a steely look. ‘You are all relieved of your duties.’ A roar of anger surged through the group before Human. Several detectives gesticulated wildly while others shouted in anger.

  ‘You can’t do this.’

  ‘Who gives you the right ...?’

  ‘Who the hell do you think ...?’

  ‘You can’t get away with this ...’

  Some of the detectives behind Human stepped forward, reaching for hand guns. Human ignored the angry response. He raised his voice in order to be heard above the shouting. ‘Those of you who came from the Kimberley branch are free to return to your home town. The local Hope detectives will be assigned others duties.’ A few detectives strutted angrily past Human, exiting the courtyard. ‘Believe me when I tell you that I regret the drastic changes I am forced to make. I never wanted things to reach this stage. The sabotage was carried out by a single person, or possibly a small group,’ Human said, subtly eyeing Engelman and his group. ‘I never wanted to punish everyone for the egregious transgressions of a tiny minority. Please understand that I am deeply sorry that things have reached this regrettable stage. You are all fine detectives.’ More detectives left the meeting, some eyeing Human with open belligerence as they passed him. One of the detectives shoved his shoulder violently into Human as he passed. Lerato gasped. Two Wachthuis detectives grabbed him and escorted him bodily from the premises. ‘Please, I am so sorry that this happened. I simply don’t have a choice anymore. As soon as the investigation is wrapped up, we will conduct a thorough enquiry to ascertain the identity of the saboteur. I want to assure you. No, I want to give you my word, that as soon as the perpetrator is identified, I will personally organise commendations for every single one of you. You have my word.’ For some of the junior detectives, it was a consolation, however small. But the majority of the policemen reacted with bellicose resentment. That afternoon, under a roasting Karoo sun, Human made no new friends. ‘I ask that all of you please relinquish all notes, files and other material pertinent to the case still in your possession. Please. I know you are angry and upset, but there’s the life of a little boy at stake. Please co-operate with me.’ Human considered invoking his authority and the possibility of legal action should the detectives not comply, but decided too much damage had already been done. Diplomacy was now necessary. ‘Please, I beg of you to be professional and to put your resentment aside. We have a killer to catch. I need your assistance. Please.’

  Amidst grumbles and dagger stares, the meeting broke up. And the resentful group of detectives dissipated. Human turned to his new con
tingent of detectives. ‘Gentlemen, we better get started. We have a lot of work to do.’

  Human led his troupe of detectives to a room that had hurriedly been prepared for the task team. It was, ironically enough, the old forensics lab. The same room from which the files and evidence had been stolen on that evening more than twenty years ago. Lerato had made copies of Human’s copious notes and now distributed them to the detectives. Human also walked the new group through the entire investigation, starting with the murder of Paul Walters in nineteen eighty-four, right up to the disappearance of Alexander Joemat. Human then divided his task force into small groups, each working on a separate component of the investigation. One of these groups was also tasked with assimilating the notes and materials of the dismissed detectives, which slowly trickled in during the course of the day.

  When Human had finished re-organising the Daddy Long Legs task force, and bringing his new team up to speed, it was already night. Another day had been wasted.

  But it had been a necessary move on his part and, although he regretted the bad feelings engendered by his actions, he didn’t regret taking this decisive step. It had to be done. For the integrity of his investigation. For the life of a child.

  At around ten o’ clock that night Human stepped out of the police station. He was exhausted. And utterly drained. His mind was a rotting piece of Swiss cheese. Rolling ineffectively around his head, stinking up his thoughts. Human was about to unlock his squad car when he heard movement behind him. He spun around, his hand on his service pistol. It was Inspector Gerhardt van Staden, Hope policeman and father to one of Daddy Long Legs’s victims. Human eyed the aged policeman curiously.

  ‘Sorry to bother you, Detective Human. I didn’t mean to give you a fright.’

  Human smiled thinly, tired and not in the mood for conversations. ‘That’s fine, Inspector.’

  The policeman stood silently, his peaked cap gripped pathetically in both hands. Human had the strange impression of van Staden as a beggar. ‘I just wanted to ... express my condolences ... for what happened.’

  Human’s tired mind flopped over uselessly. ‘What happened?’

  ‘The fire. At the detective division.’

  ‘Oh yes ... that.’

  ‘Yes. I just wanted to say how sorry I am. You’ve been working so hard. It was a terrible thing to happen.’

  ‘Yes, thank you,’ Human said with slight irritation. ‘It was hardly your fault, but thank you.’

  ‘So ...’ Van Staden stood awkwardly for a moment. ‘You lost everything in the fire.’

  ‘Well, not everything.’ Was it his tiredness or was there a curious inflection in the policeman’s question. Could it be? Could it possibly be ... relief? ‘I stored some of the most important files in a ...safe ... place.’ Human decided – for some strange reason he couldn’t identify – not to tell the policeman the whole truth.

  The policeman stepped forward. ‘Really?’ There it was again. An odd inflection. This time it sounded almost like ... disappointment?

  ‘Yes.’ Human cleared his throat. ‘Inspector, please excuse me. I’m tired and I need to get some rest.’

  ‘Yes, of course.’ Human nodded curtly and climbed into the driver’s seat of the Corolla. ‘Erm, detective ...’ Human looked up. To his shock he found van Staden right by his window. ‘If you ever need an extra hand with the investigation, please know that I’m always available.’

  ‘Okay.’ Human turned the ignition and the engine roared into life. ‘Thank you, Inspector.’ He pulled away; glad to bring an end to the exchange. Human drove to the B&B in restless silence – for some strange reason he couldn’t name – disturbed by the conversation.

  Twenty five

  The sun rose the next morning on what appeared to be a very average Karoo day. There was nothing extraordinary about the temperature that day. Or the humidity for that matter. A very average number of clouds clotted the sky. A completely average amount of birds crowded the trees around Hope. And the people of this little town had a thoroughly average expectation for that Thursday. It had, to all intents and purposes, the look of being an extraordinarily ordinary day. Except it was on this day that Human and his team would finally – after twenty years of failures – make an extraordinary breakthrough.

  For it was on this day that they would identify the killer that had become known as Daddy Long Legs.

  Lerato rose early and after a quick shower, slipped on one of her favourite dresses; a bright yellow mini-dress with a square neckline and matching yellow high heels. It was a radical departure from her normal attire, but she wore it for a very specific reason. After dressing, she departed for the police station. As she had come to expect, Human was already busy, scribbling away like mad behind his desk. The sight of the gangly detective made her heart skip a beat. She paused at the doorway for a moment and composed herself.

  Her initial confession to Human had not been a lie. She had indeed been following the master detective’s career for a long time. Ever since her basic training, she had devoured anything and everything related to Human and his work. On occasion, when she had the opportunity to meet policemen and women that had worked with the legendary detective, she had plied them relentlessly with questions. What was he like? How did he work? How did he arrive at his conclusions? Over time, a deep admiration of his investigative talents had grown into something else. Call it a crush. But for Lerato it was something deeper. She had seen in the awkward detective everything that justified her worldview and her daily efforts to become a detective herself. She had seen in the bookish policeman a lone crusader who fought for those whose voice had been silenced. And with time, she was able to form an accurate picture of the man Wayne Human was. Call it a crush. But Lerato had seen in the detective something deeper. A soul mate. A true kindred spirit. The part of her that had been missing all these years.

  One thing she did not tell him was that – a few years before – they had met. However, stuttering and sputtering when she had been introduced to the senior investigator, Lerato had made a complete fool of herself. It had only strengthened her resolve, however. To meet him again. To re-unite with him. Now, as she stood studying the gentle curve of his face, the unbreakable focus – call it obsession – with which he approached his task, she knew that the missing part of her own being had finally been located.

  Lerato saw that there was no-one else around. She approached him slowly. ‘Good morning, Wayne.’

  He looked up. And did an immediate double take. ‘Um ... good morning.’ Her dress had had the intended effect.

  She sat across from him. They looked at each other for a moment, saying nothing. Finally Lerato broke the silence. ‘What you did yesterday took an incredible amount of courage. And determination.’ She lowered her gaze. ‘It was awesome.’

  ‘Thank you, Lerato.’ She looked at him. And saw genuine appreciation for her remark. Outside she heard voices. Some of the detectives were approaching. It was now or never. She reached across and, with her hand behind his head, she drew him to her. Drew his mouth to hers. She enfolded his lips in hers. Forcing his mouth open. At first he resisted. Did nothing. But then he returned her passion. And they were fused at the mouth. They became one. She heard him whimper. And knew. That the chemistry was real. That the passion was real. As her loins exploded with fire, she released him. Moments before the detectives entered the room. Human looked at her. Shocked. Blanched. The detectives shouted a greeting. Human returned it meekly. Lerato leaned in and spoke softly so only he could hear. ‘I know who you are. I know your situation. I know everything ... that stands between us. But I want you to know this. I care for you. I care for everything you are and everything you stand for. I would never ... never try to destroy what you have. I would never ever come between you ... and her. If you can’t be with me. If you refuse to be with me, I ask only one thing of you.’ She looked over at the detectives who were busy fixing themselves some coffee. ‘Tell me that you feel the same. Tell me I’m not alone. If we can
’t be together, Wayne, then at the very least, just tell me that there is something inside you that feels the same way I do. That’s all I ask.’

  Human looked at her stunned. She rose and smoothed out the creases from her ‘60’s style dress. She spoke loud enough for the other detectives to hear. ‘I’m going to the hospital. I think I’m on to something.’ The other two detectives eyed her outfit with appreciation. And then she turned and walked away. By the time she reached her car outside, tears were flowing. She stopped and wiped her eyes, searching her handbag. She heard a sound behind her and turned. Human stood at the entrance to the police station. He looked at her with impassioned desperation, his arms hanging limply by his side. They looked at each other. In the trees above them, the mating call of a turtledove resounded through the emptiness.

  ‘I do.’ Human spoke so quietly she almost didn’t hear him. ‘I do.’ He repeated. And then, bowing his head he turned and re-entered the police station. Standing alone outside, Lerato smiled a bitter tortured smile, her full lips pursed in exquisite agony. And then she entered the car and made her way to the hospital. On the way she took her enflamed emotions and neatly packed it into a tiny box where it was shoved into a tight corner of her soul. There was a lot of important work ahead. And Lerato was, if nothing else, professional.

  Despite being a small town, Hope had its own hospital. And although the hospital had fallen into disrepair under the ANC government, its records had been immaculately maintained. Albeit in a bizarre filing system that made no sense.

  Lerato had been a regular visitor to the hospital since she had first outlined her idea to Human. Now, as she walked through the halls of the tiny hospital, carrying her laptop and handbag, she was greeted by many staff members, doctors and nurses and cleaning staff. She immediately made her way to the large but cramped room where the records were stored. She entered the dusty room and closed the door behind her. Laid out on a desk provided for her were several files that covered the period in question; the late eighties.