by Brian Reeve
As predicted, Teichmann was very interested. ‘Who do you work for?’
‘I am working independently,’ said Steiner. ‘That will be clearer when we meet.’
‘What do you have in mind?’ asked Teichmann. ‘I can meet you in thirty minutes. You could come to my house. There’s no one there.’
‘That suits me,’ said Steiner. ‘What’s the address?’
Teichmann gave him the address, glad Steiner didn’t mince words. ‘I’ll see you there.’ He replaced the receiver and minutes later left his office.
Steiner left for Pretoria and Teichmann’s house soon after the call. As well as the address, Teichmann had given him general directions once he reached the city and had told him the house was very near the university on the west side. With his existing knowledge of Pretoria, he had a good idea where that would be.
Ten minutes after coming to the outskirts of Pretoria, Steiner came to the road he wanted. He drove slowly up it, noting the numbers, and when he was in front of the house he cut the engine and went through the gate up to the front door. The building was one of the most impressive he had seen and after pressing the bell Teichmann appeared, still dressed in his suit. They greeted one another and Teichmann led him through the entrance hall into a study. He closed the door and when he was seated he looked intently at Steiner.
‘Now what is your name?’ he asked. ‘I can’t talk to someone whose name I don’t know.’
‘James Steiner. I am sure you haven’t heard of me.’
‘You are right, I haven’t,’ said Teichmann. ‘With that out of the way tell me how you know about the files and your connection with the group? You told me you are working independently. Does that mean you are still working for others or does it mean you are totally alone in what you are doing? I’m sure you appreciate the distinction.’
‘I was directly involved in the Cartwright case and doing the work for a senior operative in the Scorpions,’ said Steiner. ‘I was not employed by them in the strict sense of the word. I know you have people working for you in the same way.’
‘We do,’ said Teichmann, impassively. ‘They do a job and then disappear with no strings attached.’ Teichmann leant forward and stared at Steiner. ‘Are you telling me you are the unknown man in all this?’
‘You could put it like that,’ said Steiner, phlegmatically. ‘I don’t always reveal my presence.’
‘Until you kill someone,’ said Teichmann.
Steiner ignored the comment. ‘I have no connection with the group,’ he said pointedly.
Teichmann sank back into his seat, momentarily thinking about his part in the operations and the justification for his actions, issues he had gone over many times before. ‘You said you are working independently. How does that involve the files and what is your interest in them?’
‘When my work on the Cartwright case was coming to an end at Jan Krige’s farm, I briefly met his wife, Kirsty Krige,’ said Steiner. ‘After I returned to Durban she contacted me and said a black file, File B, had also been stolen from the group offices, allegedly by a man named Rupert Bosch, and that both files, the white file, File A, and the black file, had not been found.’ Steiner deliberately did not say a copy of the white file had been sent to by Krige to the DSO because Teichmann didn’t know Krige had retrieved it from Cartwright’s house. He had to be careful in how he got what he wanted from Teichmann.
‘Who was keeping her informed?’ asked Teichmann. ‘It wouldn’t have been her husband.’
‘John Kallis,’ said Steiner. ‘He went to her hotel.’ Things were getting going. ‘I’m sure you know him.’
‘I do,’ said Teichmann. ‘He is directly involved in finding the stolen files. Now will you tell me your personal interest in the files?’
‘I’m coming to that,’ said Steiner, keeping his eyes on Teichmann. ‘Do you trust Kallis?’
‘What the hell is this?’ said Teichmann. ‘You get me all the way out here without telling me what you want and then ask me if I trust one of my agents.’
‘Trust me,’ said Steiner patiently. ‘You will soon understand the reason for the question.’
‘I’m not sure,’ said Teichmann, candidly.
‘Kirsty Krige has been abducted and I believe Kallis is behind it,’ said Steiner. ‘To be more precise, he instructed John Dalton to do the dirty work. You will remember he is the person you sent to KwaZulu-Natal with Krige to kill four blacks.’
Teichmann paled under his tan. Steiner had the uncanny ability to squeeze where it caused pain. ‘How do you know?’ he asked, regaining a measure of composure.
‘I found her missing from her house an hour ago. She left a message saying Dalton had her and asking me to help. For that reason I am here. The files are of no real importance to me.’
Teichmann was not sure he believed what Steiner said about the files. They were important to anyone who knew about them. ‘What do want from me?’ he said. He felt he had to show he was concerned for the woman before finding out anything more Steiner could tell him. There had to be more.
‘Does Dalton work for the group?’ said Steiner. ‘If he does, is he there now?’
‘He works for us,’ said Teichmann. ‘I didn’t see him before I left this morning. I know he took yesterday off.’
‘I’m not surprised,’ said Steiner. ‘He must find abducting women quite demanding. I would like you to give me the address and phone numbers of his home and any other place where he might be staying. That also goes for Kallis. Do you have the details here?’
‘I’ll get them,’ said Teichmann, getting up. He walked over to a desk, consulted a thin folder and wrote briefly on a sheet of paper. He returned to his seat and handed it over to Steiner. ‘You’ll find the information on that including this number and that of my cell phone.’
‘Thank you,’ said Steiner, running his eyes down the sheet before folding it and putting it into an inside pocket in his blazer. He looked at Teichmann. ‘So Dalton has only one address and he is single. Do you know the colour and make of car he drives and can you give me a brief description of him?’
‘He drives a three-year-old light blue Ford sedan and he is about five-eleven, well built, not particularly good looking, and with dark hair worn in a crew cut.’
‘Just my type,’ said Steiner. ‘Finally, I don’t want you to tell anyone about this visit. That includes my name and what we spoke about. I will deal with Dalton and Kallis.’
‘Before you go I have something to tell you,’ said Teichmann. ‘Yesterday afternoon Jan Krige’s lawyer, David Staples, was shot dead at his home. The killer hasn’t been caught but a dark green Land Rover that needed a wash was seen parked near the house at about the time Staples died. It wasn’t there for long and it is unusual to see any vehicle that is not a limousine in that neighbourhood.’
‘Krige,’ said Steiner.
‘I came to the same conclusion,’ said Teichmann. ‘Also, it appeared Staples had been working on Krige’s divorce papers. It’s not much but I doubt it was a coincidence and to me that means Krige must have been there.’
Steiner had been hoping to get something about group progress in locating the files and what he had just heard was totally unexpected. ‘Have you got anything else?’ he said, half-joking.
‘Yes,’ said Teichmann. ‘When you hear it you won’t forget this meeting.’
‘Go on,’ said Steiner, listening intently.
‘This morning, half-an-hour before you phoned I had a call from someone telling me that Rupert Bosch was found dead in his car. It was not a case of drink driving. He was slumped over the wheel in the car park of a bar on the coast road, five kilometres from the city. He had been shot twice in the head.’
Steiner stared at nothing in particular. Then he faced Teichmann. ‘Do you know who killed him?’
‘I have an idea,’ said Teichmann. ‘But I wouldn’t be surprised if you told me.’
‘I think it was John Kallis,’ said Steiner.
‘Why h
im?’ asked Teichmann.
‘I am reasonably sure Rupert Bosch stole the file to give to Kallis because he had some sort of hold on him,’ said Steiner.
‘What was that?’
‘I seem to be doing all the talking,’ said Steiner. ‘I am not really interested and I must find Kirsty Krige before Dalton does something to her.’
‘You are interested,’ said Teichmann. ‘Obviously you are pretty sure she won’t be harmed otherwise you would have bolted out of here when I gave you Dalton’s address.’ He rubbed his cheek and studied Steiner closely. ‘You still haven’t answered my earlier question which I will repeat. Why are you interested in the files?’
‘I have a reason for that,’ said Steiner. ‘And, it is not financial.’
‘Evasive as ever,’ said Teichmann smiling. ‘Now I’ll tell you where I’m coming from. I am convinced Krige, who I also asked to go after the files, and Kallis want the files for financial gratification. They have no intention of ever returning them to the group.’
‘They are nearly there,’ said Steiner. ‘Kallis has the black file and Krige lied when he said he had failed to retrieve the white file from Cartwright’s house. The blame you and your friends in the group pinned on the outsider was clearly wrong because if I had it I wouldn’t be standing here now. Krige has the white file in his possession. He gave it to Staples when he returned from Durban but Staples didn’t have it when he died. Krige wouldn’t have killed him unless he had access to where Staples kept it, unlikely, or that he already had it.’
‘And I believed him all this time,’ said Teichmann. ‘Let me continue from where I left off. I will reward you handsomely if you retrieve the files for me, even if you have to kill Krige and Kallis. Each is definitely playing a double game. What is your answer?’
Steiner had prepared himself for this. ‘I will get them,’ he said. ‘You will be the first to know when I do.’
‘Thank you,’ said Teichmann, not quite sure exactly what Steiner meant but refraining from asking him. He had no one else he could trust.
‘Goodbye,’ said Steiner. ‘That was very interesting.’ He turned and without a backward glance walked out of the house to his car. The meeting had taken longer than expected. When he reached his car he started it, did a three-point turn and, after checking his map, headed for Dalton’s house.
Chapter 70
Near Pretoria
Fifteen minutes before Steiner met Teichmann at his home, John Dalton left his house in his car and picked up the ring road that led towards his smallholding. He was soon at the turnoff he wanted and in another five minutes pulled up in front of the house where Kirsty Krige had spent the night. He went through the front door, down the passage and stopped in front of her bedroom door. He knocked, waited for a reply, and when it didn’t come he unlocked it, slid the bolts to the open position and entered the room. She was sitting on her unmade bed and staring through the window. He approached her and she faced him.
‘I’m sure you would like to use the bathroom,’ he said, trying to be as gentle as he could manage. ‘Did you sleep well?’ He grinned, his teeth crying out for dental treatment. He would have been the first to acknowledge he hadn’t been near a dentist in ten years.
She gathered her towel and without looking at him went through the door to the bathroom further along the passage towards the kitchen. She had never felt so depressed and she looked forward to a hot bath that would at least help to lift her spirit. The man she trusted more than any other had let her down and not answered her cry for help.
She went to the toilet and then after running the bath stayed in the steaming water with no desire to leave and go back to her room. After what seemed an age she got out, dressed and with one hand holding the partly torn shirt together at the front returned to where she had spent the last sixteen hours.
Dalton was there when she entered and he looked at her, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans. She went to her bed and sat down, the same position she had been in when he arrived.
‘Are you still on a hunger strike?’ he said. ‘The sooner you accept that you will be here for at least a few days the better you will feel. You are acting like a child.’
‘I’ll never get used to this place,’ she said. ‘I’m not surprised you have given up on it and live elsewhere. I suppose it’s too much to ask who you are working for. You haven’t got the brains to be doing something as complicated as abducting a woman on your own. The sight of you makes me sick.’
The jibes were finally more than he could bare and he took a long step forwards, grabbing her by the arm and striking her viciously across the mouth, drawing blood that seeped from her red lips. She cried out with pain, feverishly trying to break loose from the grip that held her like a vice. Her struggling only nurtured his desire and he knocked her other hand away from where it was shielding her proud breasts, revealing mounds that held him rigid under their spell. And then he suddenly went still, seemingly not knowing what to do, and after mere seconds thrust her back onto the bed.
‘You’re not worth it,’ he said with a sneer. ‘You remind me of a whore who can’t find a client.’ He walked to the door and turned. ‘I’ll be back later.’
Dalton left the room, locking and bolting the door behind him. Moments later she heard him leave the premises in his car. The relief engulfed her and she broke down, crying unashamedly in her desperation, silently begging Steiner to come and remove the pain.
After leaving the smallholding Dalton drove faster than usual to his home. He had got divorced several years ago and he found life as a single man vastly better than he had experienced when he made the mistake of getting married. He was in his mid-thirties, intelligent, streetwise and athletic with the strength of a hungry beast. For sexual gratification he favoured women in their early twenties, but sometimes when it was necessary to have an older woman they were also fairly good. He sometimes regretted leaving the South African special forces but he knew when he made the decision that by staying he would never have the good life he now enjoyed and for which he had craved.
As Dalton sped along the road his thoughts went to John Kallis. When Kallis had asked him to do the job of luring Bosch to the slaughter and abducting the woman, he hadn’t realized Kallis was playing a double game, with his prime aim personal financial gain. He had no intention of returning the black file to the group, the file Dalton now believed Kallis had forced Bosch to give to him, and he was convinced Kallis was also intent on getting the white file for himself. The thought of Kallis disappearing into the sunset with the spoils was enough to drive him to distraction. He realized after speaking to Bosch that, ironically, he should have dumped Kallis, told Bosch that Kallis had asked him to persuade him to go where he could be killed, and joined forces with him. But even though he had lost his chance then, with Bosch dead and Kallis no doubt crowing, he was not finished. All he had to do was go with the flow and seize the opportunity of destroying Kallis and anyone else in his path when the opportunity presented itself.
When Dalton reached his house he parked his car outside in the road and went in through a side door. He watched television for the next two hours and when he had finished his third whisky he left the house and headed again for the smallholding. He had decided to buy a pizza for Kirsty Krige and after he had stopped and bought one he resumed his journey.
Chapter 71
Near Pretoria
When Steiner came to the road where Dalton lived he found the house and then parked round the corner in a neighbouring street. From his position he had a clear view of the property. Dalton’s Ford sedan was nowhere in sight. He thought about trying him on the phone but it carried the risk of alerting him and he decided to wait.
Steiner didn’t have to wait for long before he saw the blue sedan drive up to the house. Dalton got out and went down the side of the building, presumably to another door. Steiner felt his stomach tighten when he thought of Kirsty and he decided to give Dalton at most two hours before he went in.
Nearly two hours later when Steiner was preparing to move, Dalton appeared, got into his car and drove off along the road. Steiner gave him a lead of a couple of hundred metres before he followed. After a kilometre Dalton stopped, bought a take-away and when he continued his journey, Steiner again took up position behind him.
As Steiner followed Dalton, the route twisted and turned progressively as if Dalton was taking a short cut, and he knew that to keep him in sight he would have to shorten the distance between them. He closed the gap accordingly and Dalton continued at his pace until he reduced his speed, went through a gate and drove up to a small house. For Steiner it was now or never. He accelerated and followed. He was almost on Dalton and about to stop and get out of his car, when Dalton did a U-turn. He careered past Steiner, went through the gate and disappeared down the road.
Steiner ran to the front door, entered the house and when he saw no one went to the short passage. Only one door caught his attention and he ran to it.
‘Kirsty,’ he shouted when he reached it. ‘Are you there?’
‘Steiner, I’m here. Open the door.’
‘Keep back, I’m coming through,’ said Steiner, not seeing a key for the Banham. He slid back the top and bottom bolts, took a long step back with his right foot and then without changing the position of his feet swung his hips, using the first two knuckles of his fist to strike the door above the lock with devastating force. The lock burst, the door swinging smoothly inwards, revealing Kirsty, standing well back, her hands held to her mouth.
‘You came.’ She rushed to him and they embraced, she smothering him with kisses, the tears streaming down her cheeks. Her shirt fell open but she didn’t care, holding him tightly, her head finally resting on his chest.
‘Why didn’t you come sooner,’ she said, smiling for the first time. ‘I thought you had given up and returned to Durban.’