“Do you think this is the end of your witch doctor visits, then?”
Bongani nodded. “I know it is. He wished me well and said good-bye when we parted. He never did that before.”
“Are you going to the Sun?”
“No, I don’t know any of those people, and they don’t know me.”
“Neither am I. Anyway, let’s meet next in better surroundings. Why don’t you come over to my house for supper a week from Saturday? About seven?”
“I’d like that. Thank you.” For no particular reason, they shook hands formally. Bongani walked off, leaving Kubu alone. For a while he looked at the two as-yet-unmarked graves, wondering which one was which, and how it had all got so confused. He turned away, glanced at the next grave, and then realized that Dianna and Angus had been buried next to their father. There was one smaller grave between. Casually he read the headstones. Then he read them again with more attention:
HERE LIES ROLAND ANTHONY HOFMEYR,
BELOVED HUSBAND OF PAMELA, AND DEEPLY MOURNED FATHER
OF ANGUS, DIANNA, AND DANIEL. 1939–1990
The headstone of the smaller grave read simply:
DANIEL HENRY HOFMEYR, BELOVED SON OF ROLAND AND PAMELA,
AND BROTHER OF ANGUS AND DIANNA. 1980–1989
Chapter 77
Kubu was shown into Pamela Hofmeyr’s suite at the Grand Palm. She was drinking tea, sitting on the couch in the lounge area looking out over Kgale Hill.
“Sit down, Superintendent. Would you like some tea?”
“That would be very nice. Thank you, Mrs. Hofmeyr. Milk and two sugars.”
She poured the tea and passed him the cup and sugar bowl.
“Now, how can I help you?”
“Mrs. Hofmeyr, I’m trying to understand the relationship between Angus and Dianna. I don’t know how much you’ve been told, but Dianna must have been aware that something had happened to Angus, and she lied to cover it up. He was never at the house in Plettenberg Bay.”
“Superintendent, I’ve had a long talk to your superior, Director Mabaku, and I accept that Dianna not only knew about Angus’s death but, in fact, was involved in some way.” She sighed. “I’m not going to pretend I understand that. Not all was well in our family, Superintendent Bengu, but few families are perfect. My husband doted on Angus. I suppose we both did, and perhaps Dianna felt neglected and was jealous. Dianna was the smarter of the two, but Roland didn’t care about that. He was always grooming Angus to take over the company. After Roland died, Angus naturally became the head of the family. He felt Dianna was his special responsibility. They were twins, you know. Sometimes they were so close they seemed to be thinking the same things. One would start a sentence, and the other would finish it. Other times they couldn’t stand each other.”
She took a sip of her tea. Kubu said nothing, hoping that she would follow her thoughts.
“Perhaps I left them too much together. Too much alone after their father died, and we left Botswana. I had my own life to rebuild in London.” She paused.
“They had a big row about a year ago. Dianna had finally found a man she liked. He was quite unsuitable. An American gold digger. But Dianna couldn’t see that. So Angus made sure it broke up—never mind the details. Dianna reacted violently, screaming, hitting out at nothing, talking to people who weren’t there. I think she had what people call a nervous breakdown, although I don’t know what that means, really. We wanted her to see a psychiatrist, but she wouldn’t hear of it. She would phone Angus in the middle of the night, horrible, hate-filled calls. Eventually he had to change his phone number. After that she didn’t speak to either of us for months. When we did see her, she still wasn’t well, though I think she’d come to accept that Angus was right about the man. But I don’t think she ever forgave him. Then she came out to Botswana to hunt and visit Cecil. She seemed better after that. She was keen to get involved with running the company. I think Cecil encouraged it.”
“Are you comfortable with Cecil’s role in all of this?”
“Cecil? I don’t trust him, and I don’t like him. But he hasn’t the guts for murder. Do you know that there was a rumor that he had sabotaged Roland’s plane? It was laughable. I knew it was nonsense. Dear pretty-boy Cecil? Oh, no.”
Kubu turned to another issue that had puzzled him. “I remember Angus having a number of injuries from his sports, but not a broken limb. Did you know that he’d broken both his arms?”
Pamela laughed. “Oh, yes, that’s easy. He had a pet genet at the estate when he was about twelve. He thought it was stuck up a tree. I told him it would come down when it was ready, but he insisted on climbing up to rescue it. He fell and broke both arms. The genet just scampered down when he fell.”
Kubu nodded. Angus had never told him this story. He was never keen to relate experiences where he came out looking the fool.
He turned to what might be the most sensitive issue. “Mrs. Hofmeyr, I know this must be very painful for you, but I really appreciate your frankness. Would you tell me about Dianna’s relationship with your other son?”
“Well, there’s not much to tell. He died when he was nine. A leopard attacked him on the estate. That is when I told Roland I was going to leave with the children, whether he came with us or not. Dianna was very upset after Daniel died. Actually, I took her to see someone to help her get over it. For a while she was really depressed, but then suddenly her personality seemed to change. She only wanted to do boy things. She talked her father into getting her a rifle, and Angus taught her to shoot. She was always a tomboy, always trying to compete with her brother, I suppose, but she had never shown any interest in killing things before. It was the boys who were keen on hunting. Roland used to take them, to make men of them, he said. But Angus said that Dianna was quite a good shot. When she was older she shot a leopard and said it was the one that killed Daniel. She said she recognized its markings. She was very pleased about that.”
Something about this story struck Kubu, but he couldn’t put his finger on exactly what it was. Dianna had said it was “Daniel’s fault.” But what was his fault, and why did she think that?
“Mrs. Hofmeyr, on the way to the hospital, Dianna repeated the phrase ‘It was Daniel’s fault’ several times. Do you know what she may have meant?”
“I’ve no idea,” Pamela replied. “Perhaps it was a fleeting memory from long ago.”
“Do you remember the name of the person you took Dianna to see?” Kubu asked.
“It was a psychologist here in Gaborone. I can’t remember her name. A recommendation from one of Roland’s friends at the university. I suppose you could trace her if it’s important.”
Kubu nodded. He wondered if the doctor still practiced. He would find out.
There was one more question he needed to ask. “Mrs. Hofmeyr, did you receive any calls supposedly from Angus during March?”
“Of course, I thought about that too. I had three calls from him. I can’t remember them word for word, but it never occurred to me that it wasn’t Angus, that, in fact—” Suddenly her control broke. Biting her lower lip, she turned away from the policeman, hiding the tears. “She must have been so unhappy,” said Dianna’s mother.
Kubu got up. “I don’t need to worry you any longer, Mrs. Hofmeyr. I’m very grateful for the opportunity to see you, and you’ve been very generous with your time. Don’t worry, I’ll see myself out.”
“And what have I to show for it?” he asked himself as he left. Just a strange story and an odd feeling about it. Kubu climbed into his vehicle, but he made no move to drive off. “What was Daniel’s fault?” he asked himself yet again. There was one person left who might still be able to provide insights into the strange Hofmeyr childhoods.
Chapter 78
On Monday Kubu was able to satisfy his curiosity. He went to the Hofmeyr estate where Roland and Pamela had lived. Cecil now used it only as an occasional weekend retreat, preferring his comfortable property in town. Kubu wanted to see Young Tau.
The maid met him at the front entrance, told him where to park, and without another word took him around the main building to a separate suite of servants’ quarters at the back. An old man was sitting on a plastic garden chair, eating his lunch at an old table covered with newspaper in the shade of an umbrella thorn tree. The maid pointed to him and left.
Kubu walked up to the man, extended his right hand, touching his right arm with his left hand as a sign of respect, and said in Setswana, “Rra Tau? I am Superintendent David Bengu of the police CID.”
Tau looked up. Two pots steamed in front of him, one of maize meal and the other of a gravy-like stew. He had spooned some of the stew into a soup bowl and was rolling balls of the meal with his fingers to mop it up. He smiled, revealing strong gums but no remaining teeth. He was carefully shaven, and his head was covered with curly stubble now white. He wore an ironed white shirt, already spotted from the stew.
“I am Young Tau,” he said. “You are Kubu. I remember you.” And indeed they had met once, a long time ago. Kubu had spent one weekend with Angus at the estate when they were at school together. While everyone had been polite, the Hofmeyrs didn’t seem to know quite what to make of Angus’s older black friend, and Kubu had felt uncomfortable. The weekend had not been a great success, and he had not come again. But he did remember the gardener, who had a lot of time for the two boys, told them stories of the bush and of the past, and seemed to know everything about plants. Everyone called him Young Tau. His father, Old Tau, had been the chief gardener before him and was long dead. Young Tau himself was already elderly then, although no one knew his actual age. Now he must be ancient. Kubu had hardly expected to be remembered from that one visit.
“Sit down. Do you want some pappa le nama?”
Kubu had grown up on food like this and accepted with enthusiasm. He pulled up another plastic chair and rolled up his sleeves while Young Tau called for another plate and spoon, soon brought disapprovingly by the same maid. For a while they ate in silence. Then Kubu asked after Tau’s family. It seemed that they were all well, but the litany of extended relations took some time.
Then it was Kubu’s turn to run through his family’s health. Tau was very disapproving of the fact that he and Joy had no son as yet, and pointed out that this would be a great sorrow to Kubu’s parents. He himself had six sons. Kubu inclined his head, accepting this rebuke. He decided to change the subject before Tau started to recommend witch doctor potions.
“Young Tau, I want to ask you something about Miss Dianna,” he said. The old man nodded and waited. “Do you remember when she was young? She used to like to spend time with you and learn from you about plants and birds and animals?” Young Tau nodded again with the nostalgic smile of an old man remembering.
“She learned well. She listened carefully. Not only to me. She used to listen to the birds calling. I’d tell her how the thekwane called, flying to its big messy nest in the dead tree in the cattle dam, and she’d say: ‘No, Young Tau, it’s not quite like that, it’s more like this,’ and she’d do the call better than me. She did it too well.” He shook his head. “It’s the bird that tells of Death.”
He shook his head again, and then continued. “She could call some of the birds to come to her. The little owl was easy. Prrrp, prrrp, prrrp. Prrrp, prrrp, prrrp. Prrrp, prrrp, prrrp. She’d call at night for a few minutes, and he would come—sometimes two. They would sit on the branches and listen. She could call horses too. And once when she was on a camping trip she tried to call lions at night. I was quite scared they would come, because it sounded so real. But perhaps it wasn’t loud enough or not quite right. I don’t know.” He remembered how glad he had been that a guard with a gun accompanied them.
“Did she imitate people also?”
“Sometimes for a joke. She could do me very well.” Young Tau gave a toothless laugh. “Specially me scolding her for something.” He grinned. It was obvious he had been fond of the girl.
“What about her brothers? Could she imitate them?”
Tau shrugged. “Perhaps for a joke,” he repeated. “She didn’t like Master Daniel, though. Their mother spoiled him. He was often rude to me. Once he called me bad names and told Miss Dianna that they were rich, so she was stupid to learn about birds and plants.” He paused, lost in the past. “He would get her into trouble if he could. She could do his voice very well. He didn’t like that. Sometimes they were very bad enemies for a while, but children get over these things. But after the leopard got Master Daniel, she changed a bit. She didn’t copy people after that. And she didn’t laugh so much. Sometimes she would get angry for no reason, and her voice became hard and harsh. There was a darkness there.” He shook his head with the sadness of it.
“Did she ever talk to you about what happened with the leopard?”
“She told me what happened.” He nodded. “And when she was older, she killed the leopard herself,” he added with pride.
“Did she ever pretend to be Master Angus?”
Young Tau just shrugged.
Kubu was pleased he had come. Dianna had clearly been an accomplished mimic. Perhaps she herself had been Angus’s voice after he was dead—perhaps even for some time before. Also he was glad to have seen Young Tau again. He imagined there was a lot more interesting stuff in Tau’s head, but he didn’t know the right questions to get it out.
“Ke itumetse, Rra Tau,” he thanked his host formally. “Thank you also for the lunch and your wisdom. Perhaps I may come again to see you?”
But Tau had a question of his own. “Are you going to catch them? These evil people who killed Master Angus and Miss Dianna?”
Kubu nodded. “First I have to find out who they really are,” he said.
Chapter 79
This is becoming a bad habit, Kubu thought as he once again headed for the Wimpy at Game City. It was only 6:30 a.m. when he arrived. Once again he ordered the steak-and-egg breakfast and settled down with the Daily News. By coincidence, today’s headline also announced a BCMC board meeting. Last time, the newspaper had reported Dianna’s ascendancy to head of BCMC. This time the headlines were very different.
SHAKE-UP AT BCMC
Kubu read on with great interest.
Meeting yesterday morning, the board of BCMC brought about major and unexpected changes to the executive of the company. The board confirmed its previous decision to make Mr. Cecil Hofmeyr CEO of the company—–a step down from his previous position of chairman, which had included the function of CEO. The position of chairman, recently made vacant by the untimely death of Dianna Hofmeyr, who had held the position for only a few days, was filled by longtime government-appointed board member, Mr. Peter Rabafana. The other government-appointed board member, Mr. Robert Nama, was appointed as an executive director.
Sources who wish to remain nameless told the Daily News that surprisingly little discussion preceded the new appointments. Local analysts had expected Cecil Hofmeyr to pull together enough family votes to vote himself back in as chairman and CEO.
Kubu shook his head. “What’s going on?” he said to himself out loud, catching the attention of two young patrons at the next table. They were not sure whether the question had been addressed to them. They decided to remain quiet and see whether it was repeated. Kubu shook his head and again asked out loud, “What on earth is going on?” The two youngsters, who were the only people within earshot, looked at each other, picked up their trays, and moved to the far end of the restaurant.
Kubu speculated on what had happened. Cecil must have been caught on one of Kobedi’s tapes, and senior government members were using this to control him. He won
dered whether Mabaku had seen the tape and, if so, what he had done with it. Good riddance, thought Kubu. Cecil’s history was one of sleaze and tugging at the edges of what was ethical. He may have made BCMC very successful, but there was always an angle that benefited Cecil. Kobedi was obviously a benefit that Cecil thought he could keep under wraps. But he had underestimated Kobedi—and the ambition of some government officials.
As he wondered about BCMC and its politics, his eye caught another front-page headline: “Spate of Civil Service Resignations.” Kubu’s eyebrows arched.
In an unexpected development yesterday afternoon, three more civil servants resigned from their positions. This adds to the resignations announced yesterday. Reasons for the resignations include early retirement and a wish to pursue other interests. One of the people retiring, Mr. Thapelo Sengwane, has decided to emigrate to the U.K. A spokeswoman for the Ministry for Presidential and Public Administration described the five almost simultaneous departures as “coincidence.”
The article went on to discuss the careers of the gentlemen concerned, but there was no real clue as to their motivations.
Kubu shook his head yet again. “More chums of Kobedi’s, I bet,” he said to himself. “I wonder what other heads are going to roll.”
Shortly after Kubu got to the office, Mabaku summoned him. They talked about the cases for about half an hour. Kubu told Mabaku who Daniel really was, and what Young Tau had told him about Dianna’s ability as a mimic. And that the web of forensic evidence was tightening. The bullet from Sculo matched the gun taken from Red Beard at Kazungula, mobile phone traces linked Dianna to Ferraz and both to Red Beard, and it was Red Beard’s thumbprint on the petrol slip Kubu found at Kamissa.
A Carrion Death & The 2nd Death of Goodluck Tinubu Page 40