‘You would think so. But check this out, boss. Wouter did some time in the prison.’
‘For what?’
‘Fraud ... and attempted murder, no less.’
‘What?’
‘Yep. It was described as a “misunderstanding”, but attempted murder is attempted murder. He was given a lenient sentence though. His family probably pulled some strings.’
Chaz looked at Hertzog. ‘And don’t forget the evidence links him directly to the abductions of the three teens. I think old Wouter has more than a few skeletons in the closet.’
‘Yes,’ Hertzog said. ‘Dig some more. See if there’s more to the story.’
‘Sure thing, boss,’ Jannie said.
‘Good work, kid,’ Dog said, avoiding Duvenhage’s eyes. Jannie looked at Dog, stunned.
‘Detective Bosman, I want you and Detective Doober to see if you can discover the identities of our three mummies. Go right back in the records. The Dominee told us something happened twenty years ago. That would make it nineteen-sixty-six. He admitted his own memory was fickle. So check out sixty-five and sixty-seven too. Look for missing person reports, unexplained disappearances ... anything like that. You know what to do.’ Chaz and Dog nodded. ‘Detective Duvenhage, I’ve got another assignment for you. It concerns the posters that appeared after each abduction. They were printed from ... either an Apple Macintosh or IBM compatible machine. They weren’t Photostats, that’s for sure. Now there are relatively few people who own a personal computer or a quality printer. Especially in a place like Coffee. In addition, the perpetrator must have used some kind of CAD (Computer Assisted Drawing) programme to import the photographs of the teens. We’re looking at high-end equipment, probably purchased in Kimberley or Bloemfontein. So start there. Contact all the relevant vendors and see if you can pick up a lead. See if anybody from Coffee purchased equipment like this in the last ... I don’t know, two years or so. Got it?’
‘It’s done, boss,’ Duvenhage said, excited.
‘The more I look at this case the more I realise the perpetrator is one of their own. They would never admit it but it’s starting to look more and more likely. Someone who’s able to move without suspicion through the town. Someone who’s either known to the victims or who is able to easily establish friendships ... or at the very least gain the trust of the victims.’ He looked at his detectives with a grave expression on his face. ‘But there’s something else. Our recent discoveries and my own instincts tell me this man is about to escalate his activities. He’s been content thus far to leave two weeks, more or less, between abductions. But that’s going to change. I feel ... no, I know he’s going to strike soon. Very soon. Within the next few days. Gentlemen, we’re racing against the clock. And so far, we’re losing.’
***
That night as Hertzog was preparing for bed Mrs Rabie knocked on Hertzog’s door. ‘Koewee? Detective, there’s someone here to see you?’
‘Someone to see me? Are you sure, Mrs Rabie?’
‘Oh yes, he asked for you by name. He’s waiting at the reception desk. Hertzog thanked her. He slipped on a t-shirt. On his way to the front desk he stopped at Jools’s room. ‘Want to join me?’ He asked when Jools opened the door. ‘I think it has something to do with the case.’ Jools agreed and they both strolled to meet the stranger at the reception desk.
A slender youth was waiting for them, his back to the detectives, staring through the French windows at the dark landscape outside.
‘Good evening,’ Hertzog said. ‘I believe you’re looking for me?’
The youth turned. He had long unruly hair and a thin pointed face. ‘Captain Hertzog. My name is Antonius Bredekamp. People call me Tony.’ He held out a stiff hand towards Hertzog. ‘Wouter Bredekamp is my father.’
Hertzog and Jools exchanged a curious glance. ‘Tony,’ Hertzog said, taking his hand. This is Lieutenant van Sant.’ The youth nodded curtly to Jools. ‘How can I help you?’
‘You know who killed him right?’
Mrs Rabie appeared behind them, ostensibly to do some late night dusting.
‘Let’s step outside, shall we.’ Hertzog opened the French door and the three of them stepped into the cold night air. ‘What was that?’
‘You know who killed my father, right?’
Jools and Hertzog exchanged another look. ‘Why don’t you tell me, Tony.’
‘It was them of course.’
‘Them?’
‘Those people. The ones who control everything around here. You know who I’m talking about.’
‘What makes you think it’s them, Tony?’
‘Who else would profit from his death? My father knew things about them. He knew their secrets. And they killed him because of it.’
‘What secrets, Tony?’
‘You know they destroyed him, right? I’m sure people have been saying all sorts of things about him. That he was some pathetic drunk. They probably told you he was crazy. But they made him like that. They are the ones who destroyed him.’
‘Why don’t you tell us what you mean, Tony?’
Tony Bredekamp paused, catching his breath. ‘My father was an exceptionally intelligent man. Long ago my family was one of the region’s richest families. But they destroyed it all.’ Hertzog nodded patiently. Tony sighed. ‘A few years after I was born my dad inherited a lot of money from my grandfather. A short while after this, old man Rockcliff approached him –’
‘Rockcliff?’
‘Don’t worry, you’ll meet his son very soon, I’m sure. In any case, Rockcliff approached him with an investment opportunity – a “sure thing”. He convinced my father to invest in one of his companies. A few months later the entire company went belly-up. My dad lost everything. His entire damn inheritance. My dad was always too trusting, too decent. He took them at their word. They all walked away with millions while my dad lost everything. It was a scam, nothing else. They were clever, they covered their tracks. No-one could prove anything. It didn’t matter, coz after that he was ruined.’
‘So they ruined your father financially? Was that when he started –’
‘Drinking? No. It took another one of their betrayals to finally break his spirit.’ Tony paused. ‘A few months after he lost the inheritance my father discovered my mother was having an affair with Dawid Bismarck. She left him soon afterwards and married Bismarck. He seduced her, you understand?’ His face became a mask of suppressed rage. ‘She severed all ties with us. I went to live with my aunt. She’s still married to Bismarck today.’
‘Tony, what about the charges levelled against your dad? Fraud ... and attempted murder. That’s quite serious.’
‘You don’t understand. When Rockcliff’s company went bust it was revealed the whole damn thing was a fraud. They implicated my father, of course. They didn’t just steal his money, they framed him.’
‘And the attempted murder?’
‘What do you think? He tried to reason with them. He begged them to help him.’ Tony paused. ‘One day he went over to Rockcliff’s house. Things got nasty. He was accused afterwards of attempted murder. The charges were commuted afterwards, to assault with a deadly weapon. But he still ended up doing time.’
‘So, Tony, would it be true to say that your father harboured some deep-seated grudges against the people who hurt him?’
‘Deep-seated grudges, my arse. He hated their guts.’ He leaned forward. ‘So do I. If I could kill every single one of them, I would.’ Hertzog looked at Jools, intrigued. Tony smirked with triumph. ‘What’s happening to them right now. They deserve every little bit of it. I hope all their fucking children disappear.’
‘That’s a very incriminating comment,’ Tony.’
‘I don’t care. Investigate them,’ he said, pointing a finger at Hertzog. ‘And arrest them for my father’s death.’ He turned and marched into the darkness.
‘Interesting new information,’ Hertzog said.
‘Well, you know what they say,’ Jools said. ‘Ther
e are always two sides to a story ... and then there’s the truth.’
Hertzog nodded. ‘Whatever the case, it looks like we’ve just identified another suspect.’
Twenty
The next two days passed in a haze of frenetic activity. The detectives busied themselves with their respective tasks. All the while realising they were rapidly running out of time. Chaz and Dog scoured the town records and spent the greater part of their time at the Coffee police station. Detective Constable Jannie Duvenhage soon found that conducting his investigation into the high-end equipment by telephone was a waste of time. He asked Hertzog for permission and took two trips over two days to Kimberley and Bloemfontein respectively. Meanwhile Hertzog and Jools re-interviewed all the townspeople again. They specifically targeted some of the “weaker” elements like Alte Bismarck. Put in plain language, Hertzog wanted her to break. Their conspiracy of silence was the main obstacle to solving the case. They invited Alte to the police station. The “friendly” interview soon turned into an aggressive interrogation. When Hertzog reminded her that her silence had contributed to her child’s probable death she stormed from the Coffee police station in tears. They had failed once again.
The other interviews were even less successful. Some of the interviewees, like Carol-Ann Botha, insisted that her lawyer be present during the meeting – a ridiculous request since she was not by any means a suspect. Others like Mayor Botha refused to see the detectives altogether, concocting flimsy excuses. By the end of the second day, Hertzog and Jools’s interviews had achieved nothing at all.
After two days of gruelling work, Jools and Hertzog decided to return to the guesthouse. Exhausted and frustrated. Jools immediately ordered a beer in the guesthouse dining room. For once, Hertzog joined him. For a few minutes neither said anything, lost in their thoughts. Finally Jools drained the contents of his Castle Lager. Hertzog’s beer stood in front of him, untouched. ‘It’s one huge bugger-up,’ Jools said. ‘I feel like we’ve achieved absolutely nothing since we’ve been here.’
‘That’s not quite true.’ Hertzog smiled at his friend.
‘I don’t know, Shaun. On the one hand we’ve got these screwed-up people who refuse to co-operate. I mean, what’s their goddamned problem? What kind of secret is worth sacrificing their children for? What the hell. You ever seen anything like this in your life before?’ Hertzog shook his head. ‘And then on the other hand, we’ve got this sick bastard who’s been a step ahead of us since the very beginning. I mean, that doesn’t just happen. This ... sick fiend must have been planning this thing for a long time, right? I’m talking months. Maybe even years.’ Hertzog perked up, looking at Jools with intense interest. ‘You don’t just pull off something like this overnight, right?’
Hertzog nodded slowly, pondering Jools’s words with great intensity. ‘You know what, I think –’
They were interrupted by a uniformed policeman. It was Constable van der Merwe – the rookie who had been tasked with guarding the cemetery. The Constable held his cap in his hand. ‘Captain, I’m glad I found you here.’ He nodded a greeting to Jools. ‘I just wanted to thank you once again for not ... er ... reporting us for dereliction of duty that night.’
‘It’s fine, Constable,’ Hertzog said, distracted.
‘I want to re-iterate that we take our duties very seriously, Captain. You understand, there’s no way ... on God’s earth ... that anybody could have opened that grave while we were there. It’s impossible, Captain.’
Hertzog howled and jumped up.
Constable van der Merwe staggered backwards, completely bewildered. Jools himself got such a fright he swiped the empty beer bottle from the table. It crashed to the floor and shattered into a million pieces. ‘Holy shit, Shaun. What the hell?’
Hertzog grabbed the Constable. ‘You’re right. You’re absolutely right. It’s impossible.’
The Constable nodded enthusiastically, totally confused. ‘Er ...’ He looked at Jools, perplexed.
‘Yes, you’re right, Constable.’ Hertzog looked at Jools. ‘And so are you, Jools.’
‘Glad to hear,’ Jools said, shrugging while the perplexed Constable continued looking at him.
‘If I’m correct we’re finally going to be one step ahead of this goddamned madman. Finally!’ Hertzog released the uniformed policeman. ‘Constable, can you get me a shovel? Quick.’
‘Uh ... yes. There’s one in the back of the police van.’
‘Can you take us there immediately?’
‘Where?’
‘The cemetery, of course,’ Hertzog said as if it should have been clear to everyone. Even Jools however looked surprised. ‘I’m going to give you a glimpse into the mind of a psychopath, Constable.’
Twenty one
Hertzog stood at the gate of the cemetery. He was flanked by Jools and Constable van der Merwe.
‘So, what do you want me to do, Captain?’
‘You have your spade ready?’
The Constable had managed to organise two spades. He had given one to Hertzog. He now held the other one aloft. ‘’Got it right here, sir.’
‘Good.’ Hertzog glanced over at the Constable. ‘We’re going grave digging, Constable.’
Constable stared at Hertzog with shock. ‘Sjoe ... Captain, I don’t know if that’s –’
‘Oh, don’t worry, Constable. It’s perfectly acceptable. The only question now is not a moral one. It’s geographical.’ The Constable looked perplexed. ‘Where to begin digging, of course,’ Hertzog said with a devilish grin.
‘So ... you mean we’re going to dig up all these graves?’ Van der Merwe asked with uncertainty, indicating the cemetery. ‘Don’t we need a court order or something?’
‘We’re not exhuming anyone, Constable. Just digging a little.’
On the other end of the cemetery the two uniformed cops who were guarding the cemetery gave the trio odd stares. The B.J. Vorster cemetery wasn’t a very large site but with almost a hundred graves what Hertzog suggested was a mammoth task nonetheless.
‘So far our friend, the madman, has chosen to target some of Coffee’s more prominent families. Lightning doesn’t strike the same place twice, and neither will he. So we need to look at some of the remaining ... elite of Coffee.’ Hertzog looked at the Constable. ‘You have any names for us, Constable? I’m looking for prominent families.’
Van der Merwe thought for a moment. ‘Ah ... sir, we have the Le Roux family ... the Standers ... the Smit family ... and then also the Rockcliffs. They’re a very wealthy family.’
‘Ah, yes. The Rockcliffs. Good. You start with the Le Roux gravesites and I’ll cover the Rockcliff graves.’
‘Captain?’
‘Yes.’
‘I’m still unsure what you want me to do.’
Hertzog stepped forward and began scanning the nearest tombstones. ‘Exactly what I said, Constable. Choose a grave ... and just start digging.’
‘Oh goodness,’ van der Merwe said, giving Jools a pained expression.
‘It takes a madman to catch a madman,’ Jools said, whispering with mischief. He winked at the perturbed Constable as he followed his colleague.
‘Jools, help me look for any Rockcliff family graves.’
‘Sure thing,’ Jools said, fanning out.
After a moment the Constable located one of the Le Roux graves. With great reservation he began prodding the mound of dirt. ‘Ah ... Captain, what are we looking for?’ He asked, shouting from across the cemetery.
‘You’ll know it when you see it, Constable.’ Hertzog looked at the anguished policeman. ‘Don’t worry, you won’t have to dig very far.’ The Constable nodded, his doubts little assuaged by Hertzog’s words.
‘Shaun.’ Jools indicated a general area. ‘I’ve found a few over here.’
‘Wonderful.’ Hertzog joined him. ‘Let’s do it.’ He began digging into the mound while Jools watched with interest. After a few minutes he stopped digging. ‘This is not it.’ He turned and began working on
an adjacent site.
‘Erm ... I haven’t found anything yet, Captain.’ Constable van der Merwe looked over at Hertzog for assurance.
‘Don’t worry, Constable. Just find the next one and keep digging.’
After another few minutes Hertzog stopped digging. ‘Dammit, not this one either.’ He looked at Jools. ‘How many do you count?’
‘About fourteen.’
Hertzog nodded. And resumed digging another grave.
Nothing.
And another.
Nothing.
And another.
Nothing. By this time the sweat was pouring from Hertzog’s brow. His jacket had long since been draped over a tombstone and his white shirt was drenched in sweat.
‘Captain, I still haven’t found anything this side.’
Jools chuckled. ‘Constable, you don’t have to give us running commentary. Just tell us when you’ve found something.’
Hertzog began digging yet another grave. When he stopped abruptly. He looked at Jools, a feverish excitement in his eyes. ‘I’ve got it.’ He turned and shouted at van der Merwe. ‘Constable, I’ve found it.’ The uniformed cop came running to their position, out of breath, also drenched in sweat. He looked at Hertzog with great expectation. ‘Stand back, please.’
With all his might, Hertzog lifted the shovel into the air.
‘No, no, what are you doing?’
Hertzog brought the shovel down onto the mound of dirt. The entire pile collapsed and crashed into the depths below. All three leaned forward and stared into the pit. At the bottom of the grave, six feet deep, lay a brutally mauled mannequin. Jools jumped into the air and whooped with excitement.
The Constable stared with shock at the mutilated mannequin. ‘I don’t understand. What’s going on?’
Hertzog stood with his one hand on his knee, using the shovel as a strut in the other hand. ‘You were right, Constable van der Merwe. It was impossible for anyone to dig a grave and exhume the body right under your noses. That’s because it was done several months ago.’ Hertzog looked at Jools. ‘And you were right too. This thing has been planned for a very long time.’
The Man in the Wind Page 20