Dog nodded while he and Jannie pushed towards the stand. Dozens of people were lying curled up on the ground, being crushed by the weight of the crowd. Dog tried to reach for those nearest him but immediately abandoned his rescue mission. The slightest loss of balance would dump him in the same position. With renewed vigour he pushed open a path to the stand. With a final surge, his face bloodied from numerous scratches and punches, Dog and Jannie pushed through to the stand. He frantically searched the ground until he located the microphone. He tapped it a few times. ‘Everybody, please, listen to me.’ His voice thundered across the undulating mob of faces and arms. ‘There’s no need for panic. Everybody please. If you’ve eaten any of the meat ...’ He looked over at the church, appearing like a distant beacon of safety amongst the sea of terror. ‘If you’ve eaten any of the meat, please report to the church immediately.’ He repeated the words.
Someone near him grabbed at his sleeve. ‘Why? What’s wrong with the meat?’
‘It’s just a precaution, sir. Did you eat any of the meat?’ The man nodded nervously. At the northern edge of the town square he saw an ambulance arriving. ‘Oh thank God,’ he said to himself. ‘Just go to the church,’ he said pointing the man in the right direction. ‘Please everybody. The paramedics have arrived. Please report to the church immediately. There’s no reason for panic. It’s just a precaution.’
Most witnesses said this was when the shooting began. They were right.
From behind a stand Tony Bredekamp stepped forward. He threw his shades onto the ground. He aimed into the crowd and began firing. The panic and chaos which had just started to dissipate flared up with even greater intensity. People ran screaming. Knocking into each other. Running over each other. A man took a bullet to the shoulder. He slumped to the ground as his wife began screaming hysterically. The crowd surged and throbbed as people ran for cover. Tony aimed and fired. And fired. And fired. A young girl fell to the ground. An elderly man stumbled, gripping his mid riff. A man ran, screaming, cradling his wounded child in his arms.
The uniformed cops fell to their knees and looked around wildly. Several returned fire. A tall youth’s chest exploded as a policeman’s poorly aimed bullet tore through his body. Many ran screaming for cover while others fell flat on the ground. Tony walked calmly through the crowd, slipping another magazine into this pistol. He aimed and fired. And fired. And fired. A policeman fell to the ground, screaming in pain.
Dog jumped behind the DJ stand and scanned the chaotic scene, trying to find the source of the gunshots. Jannie was ducking behind the overturned cashier’s counter. ‘Dog, there he is,’ he said pointing in Tony Bredekamp’s direction. He stood up and fired a shot, narrowly missing the gunman.
Tony ducked slightly, quickly locating the position of the policeman that had fired upon him. He turned towards Jannie and fired two shots.
Jannie Duvenhage screamed. And fell to the ground. Blood spurting from his neck
Dog ducked low and ran in his direction. ‘Jannie!’ He crouched next to the wounded youth. His face grew pale as he surveyed the wound. Dog threw his gun to the ground and pressed both hands onto the bloody wound in an attempt to halt the bleeding. ‘Medic! Medic!’ Dog shouted at the top of his voice. ‘Medic!’
Jannie stared up at Dog, his entire body trembling violently. ‘Wh- ... wh- ... what’s happening?’ Foam flecked with blood poured from his mouth.
‘Nothing kid, you’re fine,’ Dog said, lying. ‘You’re gonna be just fine.’
Jannie stared at Dog, his eyes wide with terror. ‘Help me ... please, help me.’
‘Shhh ... don’t talk. Don’t talk. The medics are coming.’ He peered over the meagre protection offered by the overturned table. ‘Medic!’ His voice was hoarse with screaming.
‘Do- ... do- ... Dog ...’
‘Shhh ... shhh ... everything’s going to be fine.’
Jannie’s eyes grew large. His body shook violently. Jannie began wailing. Dog forced all his weight on the wound, his hands swallowed up by the deep crimson of the dying youth’s blood.
‘No! No! No! Fuck you, kid. Don’t you fucking die on me.’ The shuddering grew more and more violent. ‘No! No! Nooooo!’
Jannie’s body shuddered one final time. And then slumped, lifeless. His eyes slowly glazed over.
‘Noooo!’ Dog pumped his chest, sobbing. ‘Fucking no.’ He closed the boy’s nostrils and placed his mouth over Jannie’s, forcing hot air into his lungs. It was a pointless gesture. And Dog knew it. ‘No,’ he said softly, tears streaking down his face. He looked at the dead boy. And gritted his teeth. His face hardened. A quick search located his gun. With bloodied hands he gripped it and stood up. ‘You fucking son of a bitch.’ He turned and marched towards the crazed gunman.
Tony Bredekamp quickly spotted the new threat. He fired at Dog. Then again. And again. People screamed. Others ran for their lives.
Dog marched with grim resolution towards his prey. Three bullets whizzed past his head, narrowly missing him. Tony fired again and again. Panic exploded in his chest as he continued to miss the wild cop bearing down upon him.
Dog marched towards Bredekamp, never once taking his eyes off the panicky youth. Tony fired another shot. And another. Everywhere people ran screaming.
Click.
With desperate fingers Tony tried to reload.
Dog lifted his pistol. And without stopping ... fired a single shot.
A round hole blossomed in the dead centre of Tony’s forehead. For a split second Tony’s eyes crossed, an obscene parody of a cartoon. And then he fell backwards. Dead.
Dog dropped his pistol. And stared at the ground, motionless.
***
Moments later Hertzog dashed towards the outer rim of the festival area. He braked hard, tyres smoking. The Landy crashed into a stall, knocking it down. He jumped from the car. Amongst the crowd he spotted dozens of uniformed policemen, fighting to control people who were running in all directions, screaming.
‘What the hell happened here?’ Jools asked, stunned.
‘Go find out. I’m going to find Marike.’ He paused. ‘And tell everyone what we discovered.’ Then softer. ‘Tell everyone who she is.’ Jools nodded, running off.
The festival area was pure chaos. People were running all over the place. Some were lying flat on the ground while others crouched against stalls and stands for protection. Dozens of people were rolling about, obviously injured by the stampeding crowd. Some of them remained ominously motionless. Everywhere little groups of people were congregated, many sobbing uncontrollably, some tending to wounds while others were providing comfort.
‘Did you see Marike?’ Hertzog asked the nearest policeman. The officer shook his head while he led an elderly lady to safety. Hertzog continued to move deeper into the core of the dispersing crowd, asking the question again and again. No-one had seen her. ‘Damn.’ He stood motionless while people streamed past him.
A girl looked at him while limping past. ‘Did you ask about Marike, detective?’
‘Yes. Did you see her?’
‘I went to my car earlier to get my wallet. I saw her and Nadine drive towards the hill,’ she said pointing at Signal Hill with its prominent cross. The cemetery lay just beyond it.
‘Thank you.’ Hertzog ran back towards the Land Rover. He flung open the door and was about to enter the vehicle when he paused, scanning the crowd for Jools. There wasn’t time. He was going to have to do this on his own.
***
Hertzog parked a short distance from the J.B. Vorster cemetery, ensuring the Landy wasn’t visible from the graveyard. He carefully made his way up the hill, gun drawn. Up here, the chaos of the doomed Coffee festival seemed to belong to another distant world. Not a single sound moved the deathly silence.
Hertzog crouched low, moving from cover to cover. A boulder, a bush, a thorn tree. When he reached the plateau he saw a Ford Cortina parked at the cemetery gate.
She was here.
He ran for cover b
ehind the old Ford. Pushed up against its faded paintwork he looked over the bonnet. In the distance, at the far edge of the cemetery he saw two shapes. One figure, standing. Another kneeling. It was obvious which figure Marike was. Even from his remote vantage point Hertzog could see that she was holding a gun to Nadine’s head. There was no time to waste.
Still crouching low, Hertzog ran for the cemetery gate. Ducking from one tombstone to the next he silently made his way to the two figures, trying to maintain his cover while moving as quickly as possible. About a dozen yards from the two girls, Hertzog made his move. He jumped from his hiding place. Gripping his service pistol with both hands he pointed the barrel at Marike.
‘Marike.’ The girl stiffened. ‘Throw down the gun and slowly raise your hands into the air.’ Nadine looked in the direction of Hertzog’s voice. Her face was fraught with terror, long mascara tracks marking the tears running down her cheeks. Marike however didn’t move. Nadine began to sob anew. ‘Marike, please don’t make me do something I’m going to regret.’
She slowly turned to Hertzog, never taking the gun from Nadine’s head. ‘Don’t you think I’m beyond the point where I care what anyone does anymore? Even you ... Shaun.’ The mention of his name sounded like the crack of a whip. A strange surreal noise in the juxtaposed reality of the elevated graveyard. Transposed into a macabre world by the events of the last few hours. ‘Nothing matters anymore.’ She turned her cold eyes onto the sobbing girl, kneeling before her. ‘I’m going to finish this. If it’s the last thing I do.’
‘Marike, don’t do it.’ He paused. ‘It’s not too late.’
Silence.
‘The moment her father and his sick friends killed my mother it was too late, Shaun. Nothing can change that.’
‘There’s no need to take this any further, Marike. You’ve got your justice. Their crimes have been exposed. The world now knows exactly who they are.’ He took a step towards the two girls. ‘They’re going to be prosecuted. They will pay for their crimes.’
‘Oh really, Shaun. Are you that naive? You know how powerful they are. They’ll get lawyers. They’ll use their political power. Sure, they’re going to prison. But honestly, for how long? And didn’t you say Rockcliff will escape prosecution?’ She pushed the gun against Nadine’s head. The girl screamed. ‘Besides, do you think any amount of prison time can make up for what I’ve been through?’
‘No. No it can’t. But that’s no reason to make this terrible situation even worse.’ Hertzog advanced yet another step. ‘Don’t you realise how amazing you are?’ Marike looked at him, confused. ‘Don’t you realise you solved this crime ... years before we did. That’s incredible. You did it, all on your own. You exposed their crimes. And you discovered their identities. That’s extraordinary.’
‘Don’t you dare ... don’t you dare mock me, Captain Hertzog.’ She shoved the barrel into Nadine’s head. The girl whimpered.
‘I would never do that, Marike.’ Hertzog paused; interminable seconds passed. ‘You mean too much to me.’ For the first time a crack appeared in Marike’s frosty countenance. She turned her face away from Hertzog as if ashamed of her moment of weakness. ‘Tell me, please. Tell me everything that happened. I want to know.’
For a long time the three figures remained mute and motionless. Then Marike spoke, her voice low and devoid of emotion. ‘They did terrible things to us ... in that place with the ridiculous name.’
‘The orphanage?’
She nodded. ‘Men would come ... in the evenings. They would pay money ... and spend the night.’ She clenched her eyes shut. ‘Their breaths smelt terrible ... their dirty cocks even worse. It carried on for years.’ She leaned into Nadine’s face. ‘Do you hear that, bitch? Do you hear what your father did to me?’ Nadine wailed hysterically. Marike paused. ‘When the police started showing up, they decided to burn the place to the ground. I remember that night so clearly. I was about seven years old.’
‘I’m so sorry.’
‘Don’t be. No-one else was.’ Her face hardened. ‘And then the Le Roux’s came to get me. She was sick. She would call me Bertie. Make me wear her dead son’s clothes. But compared to that place ... it was heaven. She ... my mom ... she had problems ... but they treated me well. It didn’t really matter, by that time I was a broken person. I had lost something infinitely fragile in that place. In its place was only anger and hatred.’ She looked at Hertzog. ‘Something happens to you when you become an orphan, Shaun. You see the world for what it really is. You see people for who they really are. It allows you to view things in a detached and uncomplicated way. In a world crawling with victims ... you become a hunter.’ Hertzog sighed softly. ‘In any case, I was about twelve when they took me away from the Le Roux’s. My next foster home was fine, I guess. It really didn’t matter. Not anymore. I wasn’t a little girl anymore. I hadn’t been for a long time. At that stage I just wanted to break things. I wanted to make someone pay.’ Nadine began sobbing again. Marike shoved Nadine’s head forward with the barrel of the gun. ‘Shut up. Stop crying like some pathetic baby.’ Nadine bit her lip, blinking hard. Marike waited for the girl to become quiet. ‘When I was close to matriculating, a social worker came to see me one day. There was a woman with her. She said her name was Isabelle and that she was a friend of my mother’s ... my real mother. It was the first time anyone had ever told me about her. She told me how much my mother loved me, how much I meant to her. She also told me that my mother had mysteriously disappeared with two of her friends. She said something terrible must have happened to them, because my mother would never abandon me. She also told me that my mother was on her way to see her aunt, who lived in a little place called Vanderkloof.’ She paused. ‘That was when the idea first started growing in my head. That was when I knew that I was going to avenge her death.’ She smiled, a cold bitter grin. ‘Isabelle came to see me a couple of times after that. She offered to introduce me to tannie Saartjie, my mom’s aunt. But I asked her not to say anything. I said I wanted to look her up myself, surprise her. I knew what I had to do. And I needed to stay anonymous – under the radar.’ She stared into the distance. ‘My plan started taking shape soon after that. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that my mother and her friends must have disappeared somewhere in this area. When I finished school I got a job. And I started coming here regularly, especially over weekends. It was during one of those weekend visits that I first met Jack.’ She snorted with contempt. ‘Jack was an idiot, a simpleton. But I realised instantly that he was my ticket into this place. So I allowed him to court me. Soon after we met I moved in with him. During this time I met Wouter. It was obvious that he liked me. I didn’t mind. Wouter was a gentle soul ... a good person. We became friends. One night, when Jack was in Kimberley for business ... which is to say he was out fucking one of his whores ... Wouter invited me to his place. He became horribly drunk. He could hardly stand. That’s when he told me a story. About a terrible event that had happened almost twenty years ago.’ She looked up at the sky. ‘On that night I had a vision ... a vision of my ultimate destiny.’ She glared at Hertzog. ‘It was beautiful.’ She smiled to herself. ‘I knew that I had come to the right place. Shortly afterwards, when Jack asked me to marry him, I said yes. Everything was in place and I could begin planning my revenge.’
Hertzog stared at her with undisguised sorrow. ‘So, all this time, you’ve been manipulating him? What about the bruises I saw on your face?’
She snorted. ‘Jack’s a peasant. It’s easy to provoke someone who lives in their pants.’ She didn’t meet Hertzog’s eyes. ‘It was in my best interest to play the part of the battered housewife. Who would ever suspect someone like me?’
‘Yes, Marike. You certainly fooled me.’
She turned her face away from Hertzog. Once again, for a split second something like shame (regret?) flashed across her cold features. ‘I never wanted to hurt you,’ she said so softly it was almost inaudible.
Hertzog nodded, his eyes focused on the m
ound at his feet. ‘Let me guess, the festival, it was your idea, right?’
‘Of course it was. Jack never had a good idea that didn’t involve fucking.’ Hertzog winced. ‘About a year after I married Jack, Wouter introduced me to his son, Tony. He was the one who told me what the town’s so-called elite had done to Wouter. Tony hated them. Almost as much as I did. I knew then that I had found somebody who could help me. One night, at Wouter’s place I told Tony about my plans. He agreed without the slightest hesitation.’ She paused. ‘In time Wouter himself became involved.’
‘You killed him, didn’t you? Let me guess, he got cold feet. He couldn’t go through with your ... cruel little plan. He was too ... gentle? Wasn’t that the word you used?’
Marike blinked hard, her lips pursed into a tight line. She averted her eyes. ‘You must think I’m a monster. But I’m not. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. He was a pathetic broken old man ... but he was my friend.’ She glared at Hertzog, animosity flaring in her eyes. ‘He was going to tell the police. He was going to destroy everything I had worked so hard to achieve. I couldn’t allow that.’
‘What do you think Tony would say if he knew you killed his father, Marike? I’m assuming you made him believe it was one of the townspeople who murdered him, am I right? It was just what you needed to enflame his hatred even more.’
‘I needed his help. I couldn’t do it all on my own.’
‘He helped you kidnap the teens.’
‘Some of them. I took the Trudouw girl on my own.’
‘What about the graves?’
She paused. ‘That was Wouter. The contraption was his idea.’ She looked at Hertzog. ‘The mannequins were mine.’
‘And the model?’
‘I built that, with Tony’s help.’ She pursed her lips. ‘I wanted them to know exactly why everything was happening. I wanted them to understand ... that they were all guilty.’ She paused. ‘We wanted to scare them. We wanted them to know that we were coming for them.’
The Man in the Wind Page 30