Someone Wishes to Speak to You

by Jeremy Mallinson

  ‘Well my dear, I’ve just been telling Mathew some of the delights of viewing paintings of a diversity of the monkey kingdom within the solace of art galleries, and therefore not having to battle one’s way through dense forests and steaming jungles in order to gain just a fleeting glance of one.’

  On the morning before Sebastian had to return to Northern Ireland, Sir Colin asked his sons to come to the drawing room for an important discussion with he and Lady Sally.

  ‘I’ll be honest with you, boys, the doctor has told me that if I carry on with my present workload and the daily stresses of running the estate, I will in all probability be dead within the year. As a result of this prognosis, I agree with the suggestion that you put forward to your mother, that being to promote Andrew Higgins to the position of the estate’s interim managing director. I just want to say how delighted I am to hear that one of my dreams will one day come true, that some time in the future one of my sons, Mathew, will continue with the Duncan family’s long-adhered to tradition of being directly involved with the overall management of the Hartington Hall estate.’

  On Mathew’s return flight to Africa, after a rather sad farewell to his parents, he found himself to be in a sombre state of melancholy. He realised that if he hadn’t fallen so deeply in love with Jan, if he didn’t have to resolve their future together and if he wasn’t so eager to continue with his academic career, it would be his duty to resign from his forthcoming tutorial post at the University of Rhodesia and return to Hartington Hall to take up his responsibilities at the earliest opportunity. Although he was longing to see Jan again, he had recently become increasingly concerned about the meeting that Jeremy Hughes wanted to have with him as soon as he was back in Salisbury. It weighed heavily on his mind.

  Simon and Anna were at Salisbury Airport to give him a warm welcome back to Rhodesia and drive him to their home. Over brunch, they were anxious to hear all about Mathew’s trip, after which Anna excitedly told him that their co-authored scientific paper about the comparative social behaviour of captive and wild populations of vervet monkeys had been accepted by the editors of the International Journal of Primatology.

  ‘That’s not all! One of the vervets has had twins!’ she told him with a degree of enthusiasm no less than if she had just given birth herself. ‘I managed to film the whole thing, and to record some of the calls made by other members of the family group – they make a gentle chattering noise, “yokko-yorgo-yorgo-yok”, at the time of the parturition, as if they’re supporting the mother. It’s quite incredible. I can’t wait for you to hear it.’

  As Anna was determined to show Mathew her new ‘pride and joy’, which Simon referred to as her twin babies, they visited the museum without delay. Mathew was delighted at how relaxed the family group of vervets were, and to see a part of the recording of the birth. After they returned to Simon’s office, he handed Mathew two letters marked ‘Private and confidential’, which had arrived at the museum by recorded delivery on the previous day. Mathew didn’t open the envelopes until he returned to the Vaughan-Joneses’ home and had taken a shower, prior to joining his hosts for dinner. Their contents almost made him want to get on a plane back to his homeland as quickly as possible. One had come from Jeremy Hughes to inform him that he would be receiving a phone call the following morning; the second was from Piet Erasmus, demanding that they should meet as a matter of great urgency.

  11

  The Reluctant Informer

  Immediately after breakfast the following morning, Mathew decided to drive to the Causeway post office. He thought that should Jeremy Hughes’ colleague phone during his absence, he would avoid talking to him and thus put any meeting off for as long as possible. As he hoped, his post box contained a letter from Jan. He couldn’t resist tearing it open immediately.

  Dear Mathew,

  Just to let you know how very much I am missing you and am longing to see you again. I have so much to tell you, and I want to say it when we are together.

  When you get back after your trip to the UK, I’ll be spending a week staying with my parents in Mazoe, but I very much hope that we can arrange another stay at Carnock Farm at soon as possible. If you suggest a weekend to Mariette when you could get away from your university lectures, I’ll see what I can do.

  With all my heart,

  Jan xxx

  P.S. I love you more than words can say.

  Buoyed by the warmth of Jan’s letter, Mathew drove to the Willocks’ home to give Sir Roger a letter his father had asked him to deliver to his old friend. On arrival, he was informed by an armed BSAP African policeman, standing guard by the gate, that Sir Roger and Lady Willock were away and that they would not be back until the following week. Mathew drove on to Michael Lamb’s nearby office to leave the letter in his care, and found him to be his normal cheerful self and as friendly as ever. During a mid-morning drink together, Mathew formed the opinion that Lamb was not privy to any aspect of the late-night conversation that he’d had with Jeremy Hughes just before his trip to the UK. Lamb told him that as the Willocks were staying with friends in Bulawayo, and would not be returning from Matabeleland for a week, Addie had taken the opportunity to join her father for a holiday with some of his friends in Durban.

  ‘While you were out, there was a call for you from a woman with quite a strong Afrikaans accent,’ Anna told Mathew on his return to Gunhill. ‘She left a number for you to ring back at the earliest opportunity. I tried to find out who it belongs to, but the operator said that it was ex-directory.’ When Mathew dialled the number, he spoke to a switchboard operator who asked for his name, and was then immediately put through to Major Piet Erasmus.

  ‘Dr Duncan, it is of the utmost importance that I meet you tomorrow. Can we talk over lunch?’

  ‘I have only just returned to Rhodesia and am extremely busy preparing for university tutorials. Couldn’t this wait until later on in the month?’

  ‘For your own safety, it’s imperative that we meet as soon as possible. I look forward to meeting you in the bar at Meikles Hotel at noon tomorrow.’ Their conversation came to an abrupt end, with the operator apologising that the line had gone dead.

  Shortly afterwards, Mathew received a phone call from Hughes’ colleague.

  ‘As my superior, Mr Hughes, is currently out of the country,’ said the diplomat in a clipped English accent, ‘I look forward to meeting you very soon. It is essential that we arrange a meeting at the earliest opportunity.’

  ‘I am extremely busy with university matters, and I already have a lunchtime appointment on Thursday.’

  ‘I’m free for lunch on Friday, so I shall reserve a table at Brett’s Restaurant in Second Street. I look forward to seeing you there at around twelve-thirty.’ His persistency suggested that the diplomat, like Erasmus, was not expecting his luncheon invitation to be turned down. Also like Erasmus, he had been quick to conclude his conversation before Mathew could suggest that they meet at a later date.

  So within twenty-four hours of Mathew’s return to Rhodesia, he had to battle against the strong desire to drive to where Jan was staying in Mazoe and for them to run away together to the sanctuary of another country. He recognised that such an action would be totally counter-productive for their future together. Instead, he had been pressurised to accept two luncheon dates that he didn’t want, with people who had as their main agenda to elicit as much information as possible from him about his contacts with members of the Manyika tribe.

  From the previous conversations he’d had with Hughes and Erasmus, he was aware that they were anxious to secure any details that he might have about the locations of cross-border routes taken by Africans in the Vumba region, and whether any such movements involved ANC infiltrators. They were also interested to learn about the attitude of the local Africans to the Bush War, the degree of influence that ZANLA was gaining in the region, and how many members of the Manyika tribe had been recruited by the freedom fighters to become directly involved. In particular, they we
re keen to hear about Chief Chidzikwee’s opinions, and whether he was supportive of Ian Smith’s RF Government’s intention to arrive at an internal settlement.

  Mathew’s lunchtime meeting with Piet Erasmus at Meikles Hotel was a considerable shock. After they had at first enjoyed quite a convivial talk about the current pressures on Rhodesia’s wildlife, and Erasmus told him that he had always been a keen ornithologist, he suddenly changed the conversation to explain why he so urgently requested to have the meeting. As Mathew considered that the major’s questioning would be confined to his friendships in Manicaland, and whether any of these had ANC connections, he had not in any way been prepared for the bombshell that Erasmus was about to divulge, or the line of questioning that he was to be subjected to. Mathew began by giving the usual disclaimer about his political stance.

  ‘Throughout my time in Rhodesia, I’ve always considered it important not to become involved in the country’s internal politics, but to be as friendly as possible to all of its inhabitants, whether European or African. During my initial time in the Vumba, I decided to take the opportunity to learn the Manyika dialect of Shona, in order to better understand the viewpoints of the indigenous people on many different aspects of their tribal life. During my primate studies at Castle Beacon, I did indeed make a number of African friends and acquaintances, for I believe that through such friendships I became totally trusted by them, and for that reason I am reluctant to breach any confidences that I may have shared with them. I must say that if I had voted at the recent elections, I would in all probability have gone for the NUF.’ (The National Unifying Force were a moderate party led by Tim Gibbs, the son of Rhodesia’s last governor.)

  Erasmus had been toying with a glass of Cape brandy and, as if suddenly tiring of listening to Mathew’s answer, he adopted a more authoritarian approach.

  ‘I consider it is very much your responsibility to divulge any information that you think will be of interest to Rhodesia’s security forces, particularly about the movement of Africans from across the Mozambique border. Also, although some of your conversations may have been in confidence, including those that you had with Chief Chidzikwee, I consider that it is your duty as a European to provide me with the type of information I’m seeking.’

  Mathew got up to leave the table, only for Erasmus to gently reach for his arm and request that he hear him out. ‘We have a great deal in common, for all the South African Government want is to help Ian Smith’s RF Government reach a satisfactory internal settlement for the future of Rhodesia’s black and white communities. I’m sure you will agree that the present conflict between Africans and Europeans should not be allowed to continue. A satisfactory solution could never be realised as a result of the increased warlike terrorist activities being employed by ZANLA and ZIPRA so-called freedom fighters in their conflict with the might of Rhodesia’s professionally trained security forces.’

  When Mathew sat back on his chair and remained silent, deep in thought, Erasmus adopted a more conciliatory approach.

  ‘I would like to take you into my confidence and to share with you some information that I have recently been given by a colleague in BSAP’s Special Branch.’ Before Erasmus related the confidence, he ordered another Cape brandy for himself, and a Scotch for Mathew. After the glasses had arrived at the table and they had both taken a tentative sip, Erasmus exploded what seemed to Mathew to be the equivalent of a verbal hand-grenade. ‘BSAP’s Special Branch has been suspicious for some time that you have been working undercover for British intelligence. At first this was due to your regular visits to the Willocks’ household in Salisbury; subsequently it was due to your friendships with the Lambs and with Michael’s confidential secretary, Adeline Kinloch. The Rhodesian government already knew that Michael Lamb was directly involved with MI6. For these reasons, Special Branch started to keep an eye on your movements.’

  Erasmus paused to take a sip of his brandy. ‘During the last year, the degree of surveillance on you has considerably increased because of some evidence that my Special Branch colleague was given by one of his informers. A technician who works in the film processing department at a camera shop in First Street recognised in one of the prints he was developing the young wife of the well-respected second in command of the Selous Scouts, Major Paddy Bushney. A photograph of Jan Bushney had recently appeared in a feature article about her work in tourism and her interest in Rhodesian wildlife in one of the local glossy magazines, prior to her marriage to the major. The print showed Jan Bushney in the company of a handsome young man, both with their arms around the neck of a cheetah. By the way they were looking so lovingly at one another, he sensed that there could well be a degree of intimacy in the couple’s relationship that could be of interest to Special Branch. Once it was confirmed that the woman in the photograph was indeed Major Bushney’s wife, and at the same time that you were her companion, he decided to upgrade his level of surveillance. This subsequently revealed your quite regular visits to the Causeway post office.’

  Mathew was so taken aback at being told about the intensity of Special Branch’s interest in him, he found it difficult to concentrate on what Erasmus then went on to say. However, he was able to glean the general gist of how what he considered to be the most important secret that he had ever held in his life had been exposed in such a surreptitious fashion. At first he was unable to respond to what he had been told, but instead took a further sip of his whisky while he attempted to gather his thoughts as to how best to reply. For Erasmus had told him that as his Special Branch colleague had considered that they could well discover some incriminating material about Mathew in his post box, he had managed to gain permission from the RF Government’s Minister of the Interior to instruct the postal authorities to give him access to it. As a result, Special Branch had read some of Jan Bushney’s love letters to him, including the date and location of a forthcoming rendezvous that was planned at Carnock Farm.

  ‘My colleague in Special Branch went down to the BSAP station at Marandellas and under the cloak of a top-secret exercise, was given an African police sergeant and two constables to accompany him on what was referred to as a “security check” on the Smoelke’s farm in the middle of the night. My colleague told me that when they got close to the farm, he took the precaution of getting out of the jeep so that he could approach on foot and take up a position with a good view of the veranda, from which all rooms are entered. The police sergeant was instructed to leave the jeep’s engine running and its headlights full on, and by doing so to keep the interior of the veranda well illuminated. The sergeant and his two constables then went up to the front door and, as instructed, to ensure that all the occupants would hear, they banged on it as loudly as possible. As a result of this commotion, the veranda lights were switched on and almost immediately Mrs Smoelke was seen coming from her bedroom holding a standard issue PI 9 mm self-loading pistol in her right hand, demanding to know who was at her front door, prior to opening fire.

  ‘After she checked to see that it really was a BSAP police vehicle and three uniformed policemen outside, she opened the door to the sergeant. While she was asking him about the seriousness of the terrorist alert in the Macheke area which he had just told her about, my Special Branch colleague managed to get closer to the house, and then, Mathew, what do you suppose he saw? You and Mrs Bushney came out of the same room together, scantily dressed in your nightclothes. A little incriminating, wouldn’t you say?’

  Erasmus seemed to savour the moment as he took another slow sip of brandy.

  ‘As a result of my colleague having witnessed the scene first-hand, I know that Special Branch have sufficient information about your romantic involvement with Major Bushney’s young wife to pressurise you into becoming an informer. As a consequence, you may be prevailed upon to cooperate not only with myself, but also with other intelligence agencies such as BOSS, that BSAP regularly share such security matters with. It’s been through the cooperation of my Special Branch colleague that I ha
ve become so directly involved with him on such information-gathering matters, on behalf of the government of the Republic of South Africa.’ Erasmus finished his speech with a rather triumphant smile.

  Mathew had been stunned into silence. Erasmus went on to give his full assurance that both he and his BSAP Special Branch colleague would maintain the strictest confidence about what they considered to be his philandering with Mrs Bushney, for neither of them had any idea as to the seriousness of their affair. Finally, Mathew agreed to provide him with the type of information that he was seeking. He knew how extremely dangerous it would be if Jan’s husband should hear even the slightest whisper of his wife’s infidelities.

  ‘Do you give me your word that, if I agree, you will not divulge the source of any information I may give you in the future?’

  ‘You have my word.’

  ‘In that case, I will agree to cooperate with you – but only as you leave me with no other choice. It’s not just my own interests I have to consider.’

  Mathew was as white as a sheet and utterly dismayed as he rose from his chair and grudgingly shook hands with Erasmus.

  ‘Thank you for giving me your assurance, and that of your Special Branch colleague, that you will keep my relationship with Jan strictly between the three of us. I trust that will continue to be the case, so long as I fulfill my side of the agreement. I will give some serious thought to what you have requested of me, and will phone you at the beginning of next week in order to arrange a further meeting. In the meantime, I will consider the best course of action in order to cooperate with your wishes.’

  Driving away from Cecil Square, Mathew headed for Salisbury’s highly regarded botanical gardens in the hope that he would be able to come to terms with the serious predicament that he was now confronted with. Walking under a canopy of the brilliantly red flamboyant trees in such tranquil surroundings, he was able to acquire a degree of solace and become more resolute in coming to terms with the nightmarish scenario that he was faced with. Instead of returning to Gunhill afterwards, he decided to call in at the museum, where he knew Anna would be with her vervet monkeys. He knew that discussing her various observations would help to take his mind off the acute anxiety that Erasmus had just heaped upon him. Also, he recognised how important it was to take a step back from his present emotional state, and to adopt as pragmatic an approach as possible. As far as he was concerned, no obstacle in the world would be allowed to thwart his objective of gaining Jan as his lawfully wedded wife.