The Chameleon's Tale

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The Chameleon's Tale Page 23

by Andrea Bramhall


  She swallowed down her revulsion and focused instead on what needed to be done, not how she felt about it. There would be time for that later. Right now she had to do something. Anything. Fuck, everything. “Nick, get pictures. Scan the note. Do whatever you have to do to make sure we have everything we need to investigate this too.”

  “Ideally, I need to dust it all for fingerprints. You won’t be able to explain that away to the police.”

  “We can’t do that. You’ll have to make do with photographing the box and contents.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” It took him less than two minutes to photograph and lift Thambo’s hand to make sure there was nothing underneath it. He wore latex gloves and worked hard to ensure he didn’t destroy any evidence for the police to find too. It took the captain twenty minutes to return. By the time he did they had everything they needed.

  “Captain, thank you for your efforts, but in light of my discovery on my desk, I think I’ll work from home until we can return to the office. I’ve already informed my staff of this, so we’ll get out of your hair. I’ll leave a contact number and a number to divert calls to with reception.”

  “The police will need to talk to you.”

  “Major General Pugh has my number.”

  “He’s coming here?” He pointed to the floor. “To look into a simple break-in?”

  “Captain, you and I both know that a break-in here is a huge risk to national security and there will be many difficult questions for you and your team to answer. I can assure you they will have as many questions for you as they do for me, if not more. You are in charge of the security of the Houses of Parliament. Do you think a breach like this will be tolerated?”

  “We have never had an issue before.”

  “Not true anymore, is it?”

  “But yours is the only office they’ve been into?”

  “Yes. But your people are meant to stop them from being in here. No matter who or why they might want my office, or anyone else’s for that matter. You’ve failed in your job, Captain. If I were you, I’d start thinking about another one.”

  “You can’t fire me.”

  “I’m not doing. Call it a warning.” She watched to see if the phrase had any other significance to him. Wondered if he’d steal a glance at the box with her warning note inside it. There wasn’t even a flicker.

  “It sounds more like a threat to me, Minister.”

  She shook her head. “Not at all. A friendly warning. You might want to watch your back. Because other people will be covering theirs already.” She looked at the rest of her team. “Are we ready to get out of here, everyone?”

  Amahle pulled open the door, and everyone rushed to keep up with her as she went back to the car. She needed to get out of there. She needed to breathe the scent of clean air instead of rotting flesh and corruption. She needed to feel the sun warm her body as fear chilled her to the bone.

  As soon as they were in the car, Claudia wedged in with them, Nick following behind in her car. As soon as he checked it for GPS devices, Amahle turned to Claudia. “Why did you come in on Saturday? What did you need?”

  “It was for Dr. Marais. He wanted files from the Department of Health. Files about PharmaChem, the HIV programme. That kind of thing.”

  “Why?”

  “He said he was trying to figure out who was behind PharmaChem.”

  “He thought it was someone in the ministry?”

  Claudia shrugged. “He didn’t say. Just that he needed the files.”

  “Do you have a list of what you sent him?”

  “No, I’m sorry. I thought the smaller the paper trail, the better.”

  “That makes sense.”

  “I think I can remember most of it though.”

  “Try to re-create what you sent him.”

  “Sure.”

  “Where are we going, Minister?”

  “Back home.” It was fast becoming the only place she felt safe, secure. “I need to wash the smell of that off me.”

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  “I said break him. Not try to fucking kill him.” The man wrapped a belt around Sipho’s lower leg, and a burning agony shot through him.

  “Well, he won’t try to run now, will he, boss?” Tsotsi said.

  Sipho opened one eye a crack. The other was too swollen to move. He saw Tsotsi’s head turn with a blow that made spit fly out of his mouth, and Sipho wanted to applaud the man. But his hands wouldn’t work when he tried to lift them. He wasn’t sure why. He couldn’t feel any pain in them, but he couldn’t feel any pain from anywhere specifically anymore. Everything hurt.

  “Now, boy, you listen to me, and you listen good. I want to know everything about your bloody sister, and I want to know it now. Do you hear me?”

  “’Es.”

  “Good. Now we know about Dr. Marais, and we know your sister has approached a member of the constabulary.” Everyone sniggered when the man said that. “Shut up.” The titters died down and Sipho wondered what the joke was. “Who else is she talking to?”

  Sipho frowned. At least he thought he did, because he had no clue what the man was talking about.

  “Come on, boy. I don’t have all fucking day.”

  Sipho stared at the man who stood again in the silhouette of the window. His voice sounded familiar, but he couldn’t place it.

  “Come on. Who’s she talking to?”

  Sipho shook his head. He didn’t understand the question.

  “You know, boy, I used to like you.” He clicked his fingers. “Strip him.”

  A cool breeze flittered over his skin as his clothes were cut away.

  “Plug it in, Tsotsi.”

  Sipho managed to turn his head toward the big man; his gold teeth glinted evilly against the sparks he made striking a set of jump leads against each other.

  “Last time, boy, or he’s gonna light you up like a fucking Christmas tree.”

  Sipho bucked against the chair with his one good leg, but he couldn’t even shuffle it backward in the dirt. Another click of the fingers and the shock of cold water hit his body like a thousand icy needles. He gasped and tried to gather all his strength. He hadn’t expected to make it out of the car boot, but here he was. If he was going out like this, then he was going out fighting in every way he could.

  “Fuck you.”

  The man laughed. “Very good, Sipho.” He tossed something to the Professor. “Wrap it around his testicles and put the clippers on that.”

  Sipho tried again to make the chair move. He needed to get away.

  “That’s right, boy. Now you get it.” The man laughed and looked at Tsotsi again. “When his dick drops off, call me again.”

  Tsotsi’s cackling laughter followed the man out the door. Sipho opened his mouth as they wrapped copper wire around his genitals, and he screamed with everything he had in him.

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  “Better?” Imogen asked.

  Amahle turned around, startled, and pulled the towel tighter around her body. Imogen was sitting on her bed, staring out the window.

  “What’re you doing in here?”

  “Waiting to talk to you.”

  “Well, I’m fine, thanks.” She sat at her dressing table, one hand still clutching the towel about her body. “You can leave me alone again now.” What happened to distant Imogen? The one who was around all morning?

  “You’re not fine and we both know it.” She ran her fingers through her short hair. “Christ, I feel bloody shaky and I barely know the guy.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Thambo? I barely know him and seeing that shook me up. I can only imagine what you must be feeling.”

  Right. Hand in a box. That’s what she’s talking about. “I’m fine, Imogen. I don’t want to talk about it.” She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t make the jump from the cold and distant Imogen she’d been faced with all morning to the friendlier, more supportive Imogen she’d known before. The one she’d made love to. The switch w
as disconcerting, and right now she couldn’t deal with the Jekyll and Hyde routine.

  “I get that. I’d want to forget about it too. I’m beginning to see your pattern, Minister.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You forget and ignore everything that bothers you.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Imogen laughed. “Yes, you do. You just want to forget about it.” She pushed herself off the bed. “Go ahead then. Forget last night happened. Forget you wanted me to make love with you. Forget you wanted me.” She leaned down behind her so that Amahle could see her face in the mirror over her shoulder. Her lips mere inches from her ear. The smouldering heat in Imogen’s eyes burned through her, leaving only ashes in its wake. Amahle heard herself moan as she let go of the towel. She desperately needed to touch Imogen. She needed to feel her, to know she was real, and alive, and safe here with her. She needed to take herself away from the mess in her office, the evil that she’d been dragged into, and let herself go from everything around her.

  It wasn’t until she felt Imogen tucking the loose end of the towel into the cleft between her breasts that she realized what she was doing. She quickly grasped the fabric to hold it in place and protect whatever modesty and dignity she still had.

  “Even if you can forget, Ami…” She inhaled deeply, and Amahle could see she was holding back tears. “I won’t.”

  Amahle closed her eyes and heard the door click shut. Why now? Why was this happening now? For eight years, her body had been dormant. Not once had she craved the touch of another. Not once had she reacted to anyone. Now when she most needed her focus all she could see was Imogen’s face. She craved her touch as much as her company, and she was fast becoming her drug of choice. I think I’ve made the biggest mistake of my life with you, Immy. I just don’t know if the mistake was inviting you to my bed, or banishing you from it.

  Everyone was working at their respective stations on a myriad of tasks when she returned from her room. Their heads were hunched over their screens, and they were tapping away on keyboards, scribbling notes, or speaking quietly into cell phones.

  “I think we need to rethink this event this afternoon,” Laura said as she disengaged herself from her call. “I know we talked about it this morning and you said no, but given what’s happened this morning, I think the risk of exposing you is too great.”

  “Laura, I’m going, and that’s final.”

  Laura threw her hands in the air and stared at Imogen. “Will you talk some sense into her?”

  Imogen looked up at her, obviously startled. “What makes you think she’d listen to me?” She looked at Amahle. “I’m no one.”

  That one sentence made everything about Imogen make sense. Her hyper-competitiveness, her need to be the best, first, to be seen, to be noticed. It all stemmed from an insecurity she hadn’t seen in her before. An insecurity that stemmed from the rejection she’d suffered as a child. She wanted to pull Imogen into her arms and tell her she was wrong. That she had never been and never could be no one. She had been everything to her back then. She wanted to tell her how special she was, how caring, how important she’d become to her in such a short space of time. She wanted to tell her all that and more. But she couldn’t. What right do I have to say something like that and then disappear back into the shadows? How would it be fair to Imogen to do that? She deserves so much better.

  “Please, Minister.” Laura touched her arm. “It’s too big a risk.”

  “I’ve never let big risks stop me from doing my work, Laura. I won’t let it stop me now.” Shame I can’t say the same about my personal life, hey?

  Laura sighed. “Then I would like your authorization to get extra bodies on this.”

  “Do whatever you feel you need to do. I trust your judgement. I just can’t bow to it. I’m sorry.”

  “Then we need to leave in an hour,” Laura said, already dialling the phone before she finished the sentence.

  “I’ll be ready.” She glanced over Claudia’s shoulder and pointed to her screen. “What’s that?”

  “Some of the documents I sent to the doctor on Saturday.”

  “Yes, but what is that?”

  “A list of all the drug trials that PharmaChem has pending approval.”

  “When was their version of Combivirine approved?”

  “Almost three years ago.”

  “And we haven’t heard a dickie bird about it.”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Big, home-grown company saving the health services billions of rand with their own development. Why hasn’t there been anything in the news about it? It’s a great story.”

  “Because no one knows about it.”

  “Exactly. Because PharmaChem doesn’t want attention drawn to it.” Amahle drummed her fingers on her thigh.

  Claudia held out a sheaf of papers.

  “What’s this?” Amahle asked as she took them from her.

  “Information about the hospital you’re going to and your speech for this afternoon. I wasn’t sure you’d had time to write one so I put one together based upon your last couple of opening speeches.”

  She leaned over and kissed Claudia’s cheek. “You’re a star. I thought I was going to have to wing it.”

  “Not a good idea. Now go. I’m busy.”

  Amahle leaned away from her and tucked her feet under her bottom as she settled in to go through the information. She caught Imogen watching her before quickly turning her attention back to her computer screen and ignoring her again. Amahle sighed and started reading.

  Chapter Forty

  Concentrate, Frost. Pull your shit together. It’s not that big a shock. Imogen stared back at her computer screen but couldn’t focus enough to make the pixels form words. It was just a jumble of colours that didn’t make sense. The slightest noise or movement from Amahle drew her attention, and she wanted to know word for word what she was reading. She wanted to hear Amahle’s voice, even if it was only her speech preparation. She wanted to help. No, she wanted Amahle to want her help. Instead Amahle didn’t even want her in the same room.

  She sighed. That wasn’t true either. Amahle’s reaction to her in her bedroom just a few minutes ago proved that. She did want her. She just didn’t want to want her.

  And that hurts more. She can’t help the attraction to me, but she doesn’t want me. And that’s never happened before, or mattered to me before. She knew that it was about more than a bruised ego, but she didn’t want to face that particular image.

  Enough. I can’t be doing with this wallowing in self-pity shit. Pull yourself together and get the fucking work done. She closed the lid of her laptop and went to the dining room table. Get done, and then get gone. She opened another document, clicked through another website, and started trying to piece together more bits of the puzzle. There was something that kept niggling at her. And that was how the bad guys knew that Dr. Marais was investigating them from the start? From Dr. Marais approaching Amahle to receiving the first threat was less than twenty-four hours. Either the doctor told someone else what he was working on and who he was going to talk to about it, or Amahle had. Amahle had told her everything the night Thambo had been assaulted. She had no reason to believe she was holding anything back. That left the doctor. But why? His investigation was dangerous, he knew that, and he took precautions when he approached Amahle. She’d been very clear on that. So it didn’t make sense that he would let the information slip.

  There was something she was missing. And it was pissing her off almost as much as Amahle’s reaction to last night.

  She shook her head to clear the intrusive thoughts and opened up the website for PharmaChem. She was determined to read everything on every page. The answer was in here somewhere. It had to be. She just had to figure out what she was looking for. Or hope I recognize it when I see it.

  *

  “Are you ready to go, Minister?” Josh asked.

  “What?


  “It’s time to go. Are you ready?”

  “Already?” she said as he nodded. “Bloody hell.”

  “Interesting stuff?”

  “Not really. Just trying to learn my speech.” She climbed to her feet, slipped on her shoes, and followed them out to the cars. Claudia waved from the door and closed it tight behind them.

  Her phone rang as she fastened her seat belt. “Hello?”

  “Minister, it’s Sergeant Solongo. Do you have a moment or two to talk?”

  “Certainly, Sergeant. You have some news for me?”

  “More questions, I’m afraid. I still have very little for you in the way of answers.”

  “Very well. How can I help you then?”

  “Does the name Tsotsi mean anything to you?”

  “Name of a gangster film I believe.”

  He chuckled. “Quite. Nothing else?”

  “Should it?”

  “It seems the film has spawned a thousand Tsotsis in its wake, and one of them is the local drug dealer. Apparently, he can get anything for anyone. As long as you can pay.”

  “You think he’s hurt my brother?”

  “Until I find him and talk to him, I have no idea. I don’t know if your brother knew this man.”

  “But you can’t find him, can you?”

  “That’s why I asked if you had heard of him.”

  “No. Have you asked my mother?”

  “She says she knows nothing.”

  “You’re lucky. At least she spoke to you, Sergeant.”

  “I’ll bear that in mind.”

  “Anything else I can help you with?”

  “Yes, another name that has come up in my enquiries is the Professor. Does that mean anything to you?”

 

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