The Colour of Gold

by Oliver T Spedding

  What had become of vital importance to Bogdan now was his need to speak to someone - anyone. He had to know why he was being imprisoned and whether or not anyone was doing anything to free him. He also desperately needed to know what charges the police had levelled against him but whenever he tried to speak to the policemen who brought him his food, they ignored him. His frustration and fear mounted and several times he broke down and cried. He began banging on the cell door with the palm of his hand and when this failed to attract anyone's attention he began pounding the steel door with his fists. He screamed and shouted at the men who watched him through the tiny observation window in the door but all they did was laugh at him. His feet ached form standing on the cold concrete floor hour after hour and he longed to be able to lie down and rest his head on the floor but each time he fell to the ground the policemen entered the cell and began shouting and slapping him.

  Bogdan's mind began playing tricks on him and he imagined that he was lying on a soft warm bed, only to be brought back to reality by the shouts of the angry policemen. He imagined seeing a bed with a soft mattress in the corner of his cell only to find that there was nothing there when he reached it. He broke down and began crying and screaming but nobody took any notice of him. Eventually he could no longer stand by himself and was allowed to lie on the cold concrete floor but whenever he fell asleep a guard would enter the cell and begin shouting at him to stay awake.

  On what Bogdan estimated was the morning of his fifth day of detention the door of his cell opened and, as he blinked and tried to focus his eyesight, a white man dressed in a pale blue safari suit and grey shoes walked in. At first Bogdan didn't recognise him and then he realised that the man was the police officer who had taken him into custody at the flat in Hillbrow.

  The man stared at Bogdan, his pale blue eyes hard and unemotional. Bogdan's tongue was so thick and the inside of his mouth so gummed up that, when he tried to speak, the only sound that he could make was a hoarse croak. His mouth moved vigorously as he tried to produce the words that he'd been practicing but no intelligible sound came out. Tears of frustration flowed down his cheeks and his hands began to shake. The stranger stared at Bogdan for a short while and then turned and left the cell, slamming the door closed behind him.

  Bogdan, who by this time had managed to get to his feet, sank back onto the floor. He had so desperately wanted to speak to someone and now, when the opportunity had arisen he had been incapable of speech. He began to cry quietly desperately wishing that someone would come and help him; help him cope with his loneliness and despair. His depression and the stench that surrounded him overwhelmed him and he fell asleep.

  The following morning two guards entered the cell and hauled him to his feet.

  "You're getting a visitor today." one of the men said. "We can't let him see you like this, so let's go and give you a shower."

  The two men supported Bogdan as they walked him to a small shower cubicle and stripped off his dirty clothes.

  "Get in there and clean yourself." one of the policemen said.

  Even the ice cold water couldn't detract Bogdan from the pleasure of cleaning himself and when he had finished he was handed a rough towel to dry himself with.

  "Who's coming to visit me?" Bogdan asked.

  "Shut up and put on these overalls." the policeman said.

  Bogdan dressed in the clean clothes. He felt excited. At last he would have someone to talk to and he swore to himself that this time he wouldn't forget what he wanted to say or be unable to articulate his words. He desperately needed to know why he was being detained and what he needed to do to regain his freedom. As he walked back to his cell he began to rehearse what he would say to his visitor. There were so many questions that he wanted answers to and so many things that he needed to say that he became confused and had to be guided along the passageway to his cell by the two policemen.

  After he had been secured in his cell and the policemen had left, Bogdan began to worry that he would forget what he wanted to say to his visitor. If only he had a pencil and paper so that he could make notes to remind himself. He began to panic when he tried to remember what he wanted to say and found his mind blank. He became desperately frightened and started talking to himself out loud so that when the time came to speak he would be able to do so.

  For the rest of the day Bogdan sat on the floor waiting for his visitor and whenever he heard a noise outside his cell he would struggle to his feet and exercise his jaw so that he could speak clearly. When his evening meal of cold porridge arrived he clambered to his feet.

  "When's my visitor coming to see me?" he asked the policeman as the man pushed the tin plate into the cell.

  "You bloody fool!" the man replied. "Nobody's coming to visit you."

  "But this morning I was told that someone was coming to visit me!" Bogdan exclaimed.

  "Get this through your thick skull." the policeman said. "Nobody's coming to visit you today or any other day. You're going to be left here to rot! Now, eat your food."

  The door of the cell slammed closed. Bogdan blinked his eyelids rapidly as he realised that he was being strung along and that nobody would be coming to visit him until he had completely broken down. He meant nothing to the authorities and his need for communication was irrelevant to their needs. He sank to the floor, too depressed to eat.

  ***

  The plain clothed policeman who had apprehended Bogdan at the Hillbrow apartment and also visited the cell earlier in the day suddenly appeared late that night. Bogdan was too weary to stand up and stared at the man looming over him. The police had stopped forcing Bogdan to stand as he usually collapsed as soon as they left. They did continue to shout and scream at him so that he had as little sleep as possible.

  Bogdan closed his eyes, convinced that when he opened them again, the policeman would have disappeared like all the other mirages that played tricks with his mind and he would be able to go back to sleep, but when he did open his eyes the man was still there.

  "Mister Vodnik." the policeman said. "I'm Captain Tiaan Botha and I think it's time you and I had our little talk. According to my men you've wanted to talk to someone for some time. Well, now's your chance but, I must warn you, that if you try and bullshit me, I'll walk out of here and you won't get another chance to talk to anyone for a long time. Do you understand me?"

  Bogdan struggled to make sense of what the man was saying. His mind was so confused and it had been so long since he had heard a person speaking to him and not shouting at him that his mind seemed unable to recall the meanings of the words that he was hearing. Vaguely he felt himself nodding his head. The Captain turned to the two men waiting outside the cell door.

  "Okay." he said. "Bring him to room eight on the tenth floor. We'll interrogate him there."

  ***

  Bogdan shuffled into the interrogation room with the two policemen on either side of him. He peered around the harshly lit room, narrowing his eyes to protect them from the glare. Towards the back of the white-painted room he saw a small wooden desk and behind it, on a wooden chair, sat the Captain Botha who had visited his cell earlier. To the right of the captain was another small desk with a uniformed policeman sitting behind it. On the desktop Bogdan noticed an unusual type of typewriter. He presumed that the policeman was some kind of stenographer who would be recording the meeting between him and the police captain. One of the officers who had accompanied Bogdan from his cell closed the door as he looked around for a chair.

  "If you're looking for a chair to sit on, forget it." the captain said. "This isn't a social gathering and you'll stand here until we're satisfied with your answers to our questions. So, stand here in front of me so that I don't have to shout. And if I'm not satisfied with the information that you give me you'll stand here until you drop to the floor unconscious. Do you understand?"

  The enthusiasm that Bogdan had built up in anticipation of his being able to speak to someone at last, disappeared like mist burnt away by the sun. He f
elt fear crawl over his body as he saw the hatred in the policeman's eyes.

  "Please, sir." Bogdan whined. "I've been forced to stand for days. I just can't stand any more."

  "You'll stand or my guys will beat you to a pulp." the Captain said. "I'm not in any hurry. You'll stand and talk to me, I can assure you. So shut up and stand in front of my desk!"

  One of the policemen grabbed Bogdan roughly by the arm and shoved him across the room until he was in front of the Captain's desk. As Bogdan turned towards the man to protest the man slapped him viciously across the face with his open hand. The sound of the harsh smack bounced off the bare walls and Bogdan reeled sideways and would have fallen if the man had not still been holding his arm. A thin trickle of blood seeped from the corner of Bogdan's mouth, ran down his chin and dripped onto the front of his shirt.

  "Why have you brought me here?" Bogdan asked his voice rising hysterically. "What have I done that allows you to assault me? I have a right to know!"

  "You don't have any rights." Captain Botha said. "You lost your rights when you joined our enemies and began trying to overthrow our legitimate government. The law allows us to detain people like you without giving you a reason and to keep you in custody for at least ninety days. And after that we can keep you for another ninety days and then another ninety days. In fact, if we really want to, we can keep you here until you die. Now shut up and answer my questions!"

  Bogdan wiped the blood off his chin with the back of his hand, glanced at the red stain and sighed.

  "Please let me sit…" he pleaded, but before he could complete his plea the policeman standing next to him slapped him hard across the side of his face. Bogdan staggered to the side and nearly fell.

  "The Captain told you to shut up and answer his questions!" the man screamed, jerking Bogdan upright as he began to sag to his knees. Gasping for breath Bogdan straightened and stared at the concrete floor in front of him.

  "Do you know someone by the name of Isaiah Zuma?" the captain asked.

  Bogdan struggled to marshal his thoughts. The isolation that he'd endured, the physical abuse that he was forced to undergo by standing barefoot on the cold concrete floor of his cell and the resultant deprivation of sleep had dulled his mind to such an extent that he found it impossible to focus on anything. His mind just wouldn't obey him. It flitted from one thought to another, never coming to any conclusion. It was completely out of his control. Isaiah Zuma? The name was familiar but, as hard as he tried, he couldn't place it. He frowned deeply as he tried to capture the relationship between the name and the faces of the people that he knew.

  Pain burst through his head as the policeman standing next to him slapped him again. The pain made him cry out in protest and he sank to his knees. The policeman lifted him up roughly.

  "Answer the Captain!" the man screamed. "Do you know Isaiah Zuma?"

  "I'm trying to remember!' Bogdan shouted. "I can't place him! I know the name but I can't identify him! I'm just too tired!"

  "Answer the Captain properly!" the man next to him shouted. "Stop trying to make excuses! You're going to stand here until you answer the Captain's questions!"

  Bogdan forced himself to concentrate. He squeezed his eyes tightly closed and tried to focus on the name "Isaiah Zuma". Suddenly the image of the man that had blackmailed him and that he had supplied the bomb parts to swam into his mind. He began to sweat as he realised that if he admitted to knowing the man and also admitted to supplying him with revolutionary material he could be signing his death warrant. How did they security police know about him and Zuma?

  Bogdan glanced at Captain Botha just in time to see the man nod to the policeman standing next to him. An excruciating explosion of pain erupted in the area of his kidneys as the policeman hit him viciously across his lower back with what Bogdan imagined was a heavy rubber baton. He screamed and collapsed to the floor, vomit spewing from his open mouth.

  "Stand up!" the policeman shouted. "Stand up and answer the Captain!"

  The pain in Bogdan's lower back was so intense that he almost lost consciousness. He struggled against the blackness and with an almost super-human effort managed to get to his knees. The policeman next to him grabbed him by the arm and yanked him to his feet.

  "Yes, I know the man Isaiah Zuma." Bogdan whimpered, his voice cracking, the vile bitterness of his vomit burning his throat.

  "What's your relationship with him" the captain asked.

  "I supplied him with certain equipment." Bogdan whispered as the reality of what he was saying sank into his fuzzy mind.

  "Certain equipment? What sort of equipment?" Botha asked.

  "Equipment to make homemade bombs." Bogdan replied, resigning himself to the fact that what he was saying would condemn him to death.

  "How many bombs could this Zuma make with the equipment that you supplied to him?" Botha asked.

  "Eight." Bogdan replied. "But it depends on the size of the bomb that's required. It could be one big bomb or eight small bombs."

  "What did this equipment consist of?" Botha asked.

  "Eight threaded pieces of water pipe, end caps, insulated electrical wire and eight detonators." Bogdan said.

  "When did you supply the equipment to Zuma?" Botha asked.

  Bogdan tried to remember when his meeting with Zuma had happened and when he had left the items in the rubbish bin at the back of his house on the mine but his perception of time had been skewed by his stay in the cell and all the other abuse that he'd suffered. He stared at the police captain trying to make some kind of order out of his jumbled thoughts and memories and just as he was about to speak the policeman next to him hit him across the side of his head with the rubber baton. He sank to the floor, his hands slipping in the congealing vomit as he tried to break his fall.

  "Get up!" the policeman shouted. "Get up and answer the Captain!"

  Dazed and disorientated Bogdan got to his knees. He felt a rough hand grab his arm and jerk him upright.

  "About a week ago. I don't know. How long have I been here?" Bogdan asked. "I've lost all idea of time."

  "You've been here for almost a week." Captain Botha said.

  "Then it must have been a week before I came here." Bogdan said.

  "Why did you agree to supply our enemy with this equipment to the enemy?" Botha asked. "Are you a member of Umkhonto weSizwe?"

  "No!' Bogdan replied vehemently. "The bastards blackmailed me!"

  "Blackmailed you?" Botha asked. "What did you do that enabled them to blackmail you?"

  "The bastards photographed me having sex with a black woman." Bogdan replied. "They threatened to send the pictures to the police if I didn't co-operate with them."

  "As far as we know, you've already been charged under the Immorality Act." Both said.

  "This happened before I was arrested." Bogdan said. "I was only arrested after I'd supplied them with the equipment. At the time I didn't think that anyone knew about what I was doing."

  "Perhaps they tipped off the Vice Squad?" Botha suggested.

  "No, I don't think so." Bogdan said. "The neighbours reported that the apartment's front door had been left open and when the police investigated they found the photographs that had been used to blackmail you."

  "Well, we're not interested in your sordid love life." Botha said. "We're only interested in the fact that you've been conspiring with the county's enemies. So you're still on good terms with them? If they don't find out about your visit here you'll still be able to do business with them?"

  "Yes, I suppose so." Bogdan replied.

  "Have you see Zuma since your first meeting?" Botha asked.

  "No."

  "Now, what about the explosives that they would need to make the bombs?" Botha asked. "What can you tell us about that?"

  "Nothing." Bogdan replied. "I'm not involved in the acquisition or distribution of explosives."

  "You're lying!" Botha said. "We believe that you not only supplied the enemy with bomb parts but that you also supplied the
m with explosives. After all, you work at a mine where explosives are used every day and we all know that the theft of explosives there is rife. Don't tell me that a man with your "skills" can't get hold of explosives."

  "I've never dealt in explosives!" Bogdan said.

  "Stop lying!" the policeman next to Bogdan shouted as he raised the rubber baton in his hand. "Of course you supplied them with explosives! You supplied them with every thing that they needed! Why would they get the bomb parts from you and the explosives from someone else? If you think that you can escape the death penalty by denying that you supplied the explosives you're being very stupid. You're going to get the death penalty regardless of whether or not you supplied the enemy with explosives so you might as well admit it. You're going to hang, man. You're as good as dead, right now."

  The policemen stared at Bogdan, waiting for his response.

  "I did not supply Zuma with explosives." Bogdan said. "They got them from someone else. They could have got their explosives from any of the mines in the country, never mind from Deep Reef Gold Mine. The theft of explosives is rife throughout the country."

  "Okay, Mister Vodnik." Captain Botha said. "Let's get something quite clear. You've just admitted to the crime of high treason which carries the death penalty. Do you accept that?"

  "Yes." Bogdan whispered.

  "Good!" the Captain said. "As long as you understand your predicament. But there's always the possibility that if you co-operate with us the death penalty might be avoided. Would you be prepared to work with us against the country's enemies?"

  "What would I have to do?" Bogdan asked.