These things were all interesting, to be sure. But what really interested the detectives was what appeared on the far wall.
There were dozens of photographs, blown-up to A4 size.
They were all photographs of various teenagers. Taken from a distance with a powerful zoom lens.
Prominent amongst the many photographs were three shots that immediately caught the attention of Hertzog and his men.
They were the three missing teens.
Eleven
‘What in God’s name was this guy’s story?’
Dog looked at the mess all around them. Then at the photos. ‘Hierdie ou is getik in die kop.’
This guy is screwed in the head.
‘Do you think he was involved in the kidnappings, boss?’ Jannie stared at Hertzog.
‘That’s exactly what I think, detective.’ Hertzog grimaced. ‘Until he became a problem for some reason. And had to be eliminated.’ Hertzog turned to Duvenhage. ‘In fact, detective, in addition to the suicide investigation, won’t you please find out everything you can about Mr Wouter Bredekamp. Check the records and interview a few of the locals.’
‘No problem, boss.’
‘This place is completely fucked up,’ Jools said.
‘You’re telling me,’ Dog said, kicking an empty can at a couple of cockroaches. ‘I’ve never seen anything this messed up in all my life.’
‘I was talking about the town, Doodles.’
‘So was I, Curly Sue.’
Heavy steps signalled someone else descending the staircase. The detectives turned. A CSU tech stood on the rickety steps, holding a heavy shovel. ‘Captain, we found this upstairs,’ he said, holding his nose with his other hand. ‘I’ll bet my wife’s jewellery the soil on this will match the grave sites.’
‘Now if you don’t call that evidence then I don’t know what.’ Dog nodded appreciatively.
‘Good work. Tag it and bag it.’
‘Wait a minute,’ Jools said. ‘Check this out.’ At the bottom right hand corner of the photo montage featuring the teens an A3 sheet of paper had been draped over some of the photos. He lifted it. Underneath were photographs of the Bismarck brothers, Lloyd Botha, Johann Trudouw and another unknown man. The photos had been heavily scarred with a large knife. ‘Think he was a fan?’ Jools asked, looking at Hertzog.
Hertzog frowned, staring at the mauled shots. ‘I want you to collect these photographs as well,’ he said, indicating all the pictures. The tech nodded. ‘Dust them for prints and so on. Chaz?’
‘Yes, boss.’
‘See if you can discover the identities of the other teens in these pictures.’
‘Sure thing.’
‘Detective Duvenhage, I also want you to find out who Bredekamp’s associates were. Anything. Friends. Colleagues. Drinking buddies. Anything like that.’
‘Got it, boss.’
‘Shaun?’ Hertzog looked up sharply. It was rare for Jools to use his first name amongst the other detectives. ‘I think you need to see this.’
Hertzog walked over to Jools. He looked down at what Jools was holding in his hand.
‘Dear God.’ Hertzog turned pale white.
Twelve
The OK Supermarket was a bustle of activity on the hot Saturday afternoon. Hertzog strode towards the back of the supermarket where the in-house butchery was situated. Looking sullen, Jack Strydom was behind the counter. He sneered with derision when he saw Hertzog. ‘What the bloody hell do you want?’
‘This is official police business. Get out of my way or I’ll have you arrested.’
He snorted. And smacked the cleaver into the wooden chopping board before him. ‘Marike,’ he said, shouting towards the interior. He stared daggers at Hertzog. ‘Your little boyfriend is here.’
Marike came rushing from inside, wiping her bloody hands on her apron. She looked at Jack Strydom with fearful contrition. ‘I’m sorry, Jack.’
Strydom looked at her with hateful anger. ‘Don’t be sorry. Be careful. And get your arse back here quickly. We got tonnes of orders to fill.’
‘Yes, Jack.’ She looked at Hertzog with exasperation as she walked out with him. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Let’s go talk somewhere private,’ he said, leading her out the supermarket and towards the Defender, parked across the street. He opened the door for her and shut it. A few moments later he climbed in next to her, sitting in the driver’s seat. ‘Something’s come up.’
‘What is it?’
He paused, struggling to find the words. ‘I think your life is in danger.’
She looked at Hertzog with horror. ‘What?’ Her bottom lip quivered. ‘What are you talking about?’
Hertog reached into the back of the Landy and grabbed a folder. He extracted an A4 size photograph from it. He showed it to her. It was a long-distance shot of Marike.
She grabbed the photograph. ‘Where did you get this?’ She stared at it. ‘I don’t understand. What does this have to do with my life being in danger?’
‘Look, because of the investigation I can’t tell you much. But we found this photograph at a suspect’s house. Someone we suspect of being involved with the disappearances.’
‘Oh my God, Shaun. Who is it? You can’t tell me my life is in danger and just leave it there. For God’s sake, where did you find it?’
Hertzog stared at her, wrestling with himself. He sighed. ‘We found it at Wouter Bredekamp’s house.’
Her reaction completely shocked Hertzog.
She threw her head back and laughed loudly.
‘Marike,’ he said, reprimanding her, annoyed.
‘Oh God, Shaun. I’m sorry. You gave me such a fright.’ She laughed again. ‘I’m so sorry.’ She touched his shoulder. ‘You’ve got this all wrong. Old Wouter’s had a crush on me for the longest time. It’s annoying at worst but it’s completely harmless. I promise you. There’s nothing to worry about.’
‘I don’t know about that, Marike. We’ve found some pretty incriminating evidence. Plus we also ...’ He stopped himself before he revealed the discovery of the three graves. ‘Plus he seems like a very disturbed man.’
Marike became serious. ‘Yes, I know. He has some serious issues. But he’s just a messed up old man, nothing more.’ She looked at Hertzog with tenderness. ‘He would never hurt me, Shaun. I know that without a doubt in my mind.’ A melancholy slipped across her face. ‘Besides, who would want to kidnap me? No-one would miss me if I were gone anyway.’
Hertzog shot her a reproachful look. ‘Don’t be so sure about that.’
She traced a delicate finger across his taut features. ‘Why don’t you marry me and take me away from all of this, beautiful man?’
Hertzog looked at her for a few moments, his face betraying nothing. ‘You never told me.’
‘Told you what?’
‘How you ended up here. With him.’ Hertzog indicated the OK Supermarket with his head.
She smiled. ‘You don’t want to hear my sad old story.’
He returned the smile. ‘Oh but I do.’
She sighed. And stared through the windscreen at a group of black children playing in front of the liquor store. ‘My childhood years were less than idyllic. I mean, my parents weren’t bad to me or anything. It was just an unpleasant situation. I always had the distinct impression they wanted me to be someone else. Like I was never good enough. By the time I was in my late teens I wanted nothing more than to escape. Escape everything. My home. My life. My parents. The little two-bit town I grew up in. When Jack came around it was as if he was sent by God.’
‘Really? Sent by God?’
‘Oh come now, grumpy. He was a lot different then. He swept me off my feet. It was the first time I was in love. He was a lot older than me but I didn’t care. Jack was my ticket to a brand-new life. A few months after we met we ... well, we eloped.’
‘You eloped? With Jack Strydom?’
‘Yes!’ She punched him on the shoulder. ‘You make it sound like
I contracted a disease.’
‘Well, at least you can cure a disease.’
‘Oh my goodness, look at you ... badmouthing someone. I didn’t think you were capable.’
Hertzog laughed. ‘So, he rescued you from your small-town hell ... just to bring you here.’
‘Yes, I know. Irony is my middle name.’ She laughed. Watching her easy laughter Hertzog felt his heart constrict. She looked at him tenderly. ‘I don’t want to talk about Jack.’ She reached out and grabbed him by the lapels. ‘Hey! Did you hear the good news?’
Hertzog smoothed his jacket. ‘What? You know a good tailor?’
She laughed. ‘No, silly. The final elements of the Coffee Braai Festival have been approved by the town council.’
‘What? A Braai Festival?’
‘Yes. It was Jack’s idea. A day of fun, sun ... and lots of red meat.’ She laughed. ‘It’s going to double our turnover for the winter months. We got the region’s best braai masters coming in for the big competition. We’re going to have stalls, a small carnival for the kids plus Rina Hugo and Innes and Franna are going to be performing. It’s going to be awesome.’
Hertzog looked at her with shock. ‘You’ve got kids disappearing all over the place ... and you’re organising a festival.’
‘Not me ... it’s Jack’s festival,’ she said, slightly hurt at his accusing tone.
‘Sorry,’ he said, taking her hands in his. ‘I didn’t mean to scold you. I’m just surprised that the town would do something like this, especially after ...’
‘Well, it’s been in the planning stages for almost a year. And yes, people wanted to cancel the festival after the kids started disappearing. But in the end everyone agreed it was exactly what Coffee needed.’ She looked at him earnestly. ‘You must understand. It sometimes feels as if this town is cursed. It’s not just the latest events. I mean, we’ve had droughts, a fire, the recession and the diamond slump almost closed the mine. It’s been one disaster after another. Plus we’ve got like the worst reputation in the region. People need something to make them smile. To make them forget.’ She smiled thinly. ‘I know it looks insensitive. But for once Jack had a good idea. People are excited. Maybe this festival could turn things around for us. If it’s successful they want to make it an annual event.’
Hertzog nodded. ‘I hear you. But besides my other concerns, it’s going to turn our investigation into a nightmare.’ He cursed softly. ‘Dammit. Just another thing Major Bismarck omitted telling us about.’ Hertzog stared at the steering wheel of the Land Rover. He turned to her. ‘Marike, what’s going on in this town? What are people hiding? Why is no-one being honest with us? Why does it seem as if everyone is trying to sabotage our investigation?’
She looked at him intensely. ‘I wish I could tell you, Shaun. But I don’t know. I told you, even though I’ve been here for more than two years, they still regard me as an outsider. They don’t talk to me about anything. Least of all important things.’
Hertzog shook his head with exasperation. ‘Why do they –’
Marike reached forward and kissed him hard. She shoved her little body tightly against his. So tight he felt her nipples harden under the coarse material of her overall. With a fierceness that shocked him she reached for his pants. She grabbed his penis and squeezed it so hard it shot a bolt of pain up his spine. ‘Marike!’ Hertzog pushed her away, shouting with pain. She glared at him for a split second, an animalistic violence simmering in her eyes. Then she forced open the car door and ran for the supermarket.
Thirteen
The next morning, Hertzog and Chaz walked into the guesthouse dining room, to find the rest of the group, enjoying one of Mrs Rabie’s championship Boere breakfasts.
‘Gentlemen, Chaz and I are off to church. I will you see you later.’ He knew better than to ask any of the others to join him.
‘Sweet. Give my regards,’ Jools said through a mouthful of bacon.
‘Wow, I didn’t know the boss was that religious,’ Jannie said after Chaz and Hertzog had left.
‘Uh-huh. He sure is,’ Jools said. ‘But do you really think that’s why he’s going to church?’
Jannie stared at Jools with interest.
***
Like most services of the NG church that morning’s sermon was short – only forty-five minutes. After the service Chaz and Hertzog sat in the back pew and waited for the faithful to slowly disperse while they enjoyed the beautiful and lavish adornments of the cavernous church interior. After a good twenty minutes they were joined by the Dominee. ‘Gentlemen, I am so glad to see you here. I hope the sermon was to your liking.’
Hertzog smiled diplomatically. ‘It was very edifying, Dominee. Brother Paul was a wise man indeed.’
The Dominee smiled. ‘Were it not for him, our New Testament would be a thin book indeed.’ The Dominee sat in the pew in front of Hertzog and Chaz. ‘How are you enjoying our little town, detectives? I hope the proper hospitality has been extended towards you.’
‘We are finding Coffee a fascinating place,’ Hertzog said, dodging the question.
The Dominee nodded, understanding. ‘It takes a while for them to ... acclimatise to outsiders.’ He leaned back, folding one leg over the other, stretching out his arm along the back of the pew. ‘There was a time when Coffee was a much different place. There was a time – not that long ago for those who have lived a while – when people even used to refer to Coffee as the jewel of the western Free State. In addition to Bloemfontein and the Goldfields Coffee was becoming a centre of trade and development during those days. There was even talk at some stage of building a thousand-seat theatre here. That was in the mid-Fifties. Can you believe it?’ He sighed. ‘It seemed as if the future offered such promise.’
‘What happened, Dominee?’
‘Who’s to say what strange vagaries lead the hearts of men? How two brothers, their veins coursing with the same blood ... raised in the same house, can diverge so profoundly ... one becoming Cain, the other Abel.’ The two detectives listened to the pastor with rapt attention. ‘It breaks my heart to say my people – the people of Coffee – bear the mark of the former, not the latter. We have lost the grace of God.’
‘What is happening, Dominee Joubert?’ Hertzog asked, realising the Dominee was telling them something important. ‘Why is no-one speaking to us?’
‘I cannot turn on those I was entrusted to lead. I cannot betray my own, Captain.’ Hertzog nodded. ‘But I can tell you that in order to solve the mysteries of the present ... you need to uncover a riddle from the past.’
‘Yes.’ Chaz nodded. ‘Yes.’
‘Dominee ...’ Hertzog leaned forward. ‘You implied that you saw Coffee turn from Abel into Cain. I understand you have certain ... responsibilities, but please ... can you tell us when this was? When did the town go sour?’
‘I don’t dwell on the past, Captain. It is filled with so much darkness. And loss.’ He shook his head. ‘Memory fails an old man. And there are some memories willingly abandoned. Some memories better left in the past.’
‘Please, Dominee. We’re talking philosophy here. Nothing else. No-one would ever need to question your loyalty.’
Dominee Frans Joubert stared at the varnished wood of the pew. Outside a wind howled fiercely, sliced in two by the church steeple. The vaulted arches of the church ceiling creaked under the assault. ‘My memory is no longer sharp. But I wouldn’t be remiss if I had to guess it was ... twenty years in the past, almost exactly to the day.’ Hertzog and Chaz exchanged excited glances. ‘Twenty years ago ... when our future turned to ashes.’
Hertzog and Chaz rose. ‘Dominee, I thank you for your time. And your wise words. You have been a great help.’ Joubert nodded in mute melancholy, but didn’t rise. ‘Good day, sir.’ The policemen turned and headed for the exit.
‘Captain.’ Hertzog turned. ‘Therefore, just as sin entered the world through one man, and death through sin, and in this way ... death came to all people ... because all had sinned.�
�� The Dominee raised his head and looked at Hertzog. ‘Romans, chapter five, verse twelve. You’re right, Captain. Brother Paul was a wise man indeed.’
Hertzog acknowledged the pastor’s words and exited. Outside they paused while Hertzog lit a cigarette.
‘Because all had sinned?’ Chaz said, paraphrasing the pastor’s words. ‘Is he saying, whatever happened twenty years ago, everyone is responsible?’
‘I hope not, detective.’ Hertzog dragged a lungful of smoke from the Camel Filter. ‘But I think we’re soon going to find out.’
As they climbed into the car Dominee Joubert stepped into the arched doorway of the church. He stared at the detectives with a cold expression on his face. One by one he loudly cracked his knuckles.
Click. Click. Click.
His mouth stretched into a cruel grin.
Click. Click. Click.
Fourteen
It was a lazy Sunday afternoon. Even though it was in the heart of winter, the day was hot. The evenings were freezing cold. But the days were hot. Virtually all year round.
Hertzog had given his team the day off. After a monstrous lunch consisting of roast beef, mash, peas and sweet potato the team had dispersed to engage in such activities as pleased each. Jannie Duvenhage entertained three local girls at the guesthouse pool. They had been following him around since he had arrived in Coffee. Chaz had spent more than an hour on the phone. When he had done, Dog had cajoled him, asking whether he was talking to his chêrie? Chaz had simply given him an annoyed looked and disappeared to his room.
Dog and Jools had spent the remainder of the day sipping brandy and Coke by the poolside under a beach umbrella, admiring Jannie’s guests.
After lunch Hertzog had retired to his room. To contemplate the details of the case. And to be alone. Eventually he had drifted off. Dreaming deep dark dreams of a vicious killer.
Outside, Jools and Dog were mellowing out. Jools laughed at another of Dog’s dirty jokes. Jannie Duvenhage was regaling the girls with – largely – non-existent tales of his exploits as a murder and robbery investigator. Chaz was snoring loudly in his room.
The Man in the Wind Page 18