Shepherds and Butchers

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Shepherds and Butchers Page 39

by Chris Marnewick


  I regretted it as soon as I had handed the form back. The man was just doing his job.

  I flipped the car guard another coin where he stood with a broad smile next to the car. His eyes followed me as I walked around the car to check if all the hubcaps were still there. The car was spotless, cleaner than it had been for a long time. Wierda should be pleased, I thought. I looked around; the sights and sounds of the city were reassuring.

  A minibus packed with schoolchildren squeezed into the parking bay next to me as I fiddled with the unfamiliar key in the lock. The sliding door opening behind me startled me.

  Kellunck! Shoosh! Wham!

  I stopped fiddling with the key and turned. A teacher had come around the minibus and was herding the children into some sort of order, not quite a row. When she had succeeded in lining them up properly, she closed the door again.

  Kellunck! Shoosh! Wham!

  The teacher looked at me with her head askance. I realised I was staring.

  There was something nagging at the back of my mind as I drove back to court, but it kept eluding me. It was like the ghosts in Maximum, which could only be seen in peripheral vision. The harder I concentrated, the more elusive the thought became.

  In the end I tried not to think about it, and then it slipped my mind.

  Palace of Justice

  53

  Back at court I peeked through the double doors at the back and saw that Wierda was on his feet. It was just before one o’clock and the school principal was still in the witness box. He was a rotund little man wearing a very short tie. I went to the robing room and waited for Wierda. I looked for Magda but she must have left.

  Wierda came in behind James Murray and Sanet Niemand. We nodded a greeting.

  ‘How far did you get?’ I asked as Wierda started removing his bands and wing collar.

  He was facing the ceiling, struggling with the stud at his throat holding the wing collar in place. ‘We finished both of them,’ he grunted. ‘They didn’t cross-examine either of them, so we were able to finish them quickly.’

  ‘I could see no reason to cross-examine,’ said Murray.

  I didn’t think the two and a half hour morning session was short for two witnesses, not when there had been no cross-examination. Magda Labuschagne must have been difficult. I decided to ask Wierda about it out of earshot of the prosecutors.

  As we were leaving James Murray spoke behind me. ‘How long will your experts be, do you think?’ he asked.

  ‘With a bit of luck we could finish their evidence this afternoon,’ I said.

  ‘Good,’ he said.

  I didn’t know what he meant by that.

  On the way to the Square I asked Wierda, ‘Why did it take so long if there was no cross-examination?’

  ‘You won’t believe it,’ he said shaking his head. ‘Van Zyl went on for ages. It was almost as if he had waited for you to leave before he decided to come to life.’

  ‘Did he cross-examine her?’ I asked. I was concerned.

  ‘No,’ said Wierda, ‘I wouldn’t call it cross-examination. He just had lots of questions.’

  ‘What sort of questions?’ I was concerned that the Judge might have manipulated the evidence to suit his own views. Judges can do that, and they often do.

  ‘Oh,’ said Wierda, ‘he went over the same ground I had covered mostly, but in far more detail. He kept asking about what sort of person Labuschagne was before he started working at Maximum, how he had related to other people, whether he had ever mistreated Magda, and so on.’

  ‘Hmm,’ I said. Trying to guess what a judge is thinking is an unprofitable pursuit at the best of times; you can only know for sure when the judgment is handed down.

  ‘And Murray, why do you think he had no questions?’ I went on.

  Wierda walked next to me in silence as we hurried across the street to the Square.

  ‘I think they have decided not to take any risks.’ He bumped into a pedestrian and made a show of apologising before he continued. ‘They probably think their case is strong enough without having to attack Magda and the headmaster.’ He threw his hands in the air. ‘How the fuck would I know? Maybe they are happy with the Assessor’s questions.’

  I was even more alarmed. ‘What questions? Which Assessor?’ Assessors do not usually ask questions, and when they do have a question they have to put it through the Judge.

  ‘The one on the left asked some questions about Labuschagne’s political affiliation and his father’s political activities.’

  It was all we needed, an Assessor with a political agenda.

  ‘How did Magda do?’ I was keen to know. She had been unwilling to come to court and we had to send the Sheriff with a subpoena, but maybe it was her father who had stood in her way.

  ‘Kind, understanding, loving, worried, I would say,’ said Wierda. ‘But she had van Zyl in the palm of her hand. You wouldn’t know it but he has a reputation for being a bit of a ladies’ man around here.’

  Another angle to an already untidy case, I thought. ‘And the headmaster?’

  Wierda smiled. ‘He was trying very hard but came across as too keen and too protective. I’m not sure that he did any good, but he didn’t do any harm either.’

  I never thought we would win the case on the evidence of these two witnesses and decided to leave it there.

  ‘What’s the next case about?’ I asked. ‘But be quick, please. I need to have a word with our experts before we resume.’

  My muscles were still stiff and tense, especially across the shoulders. It was difficult to concentrate. The events in the car park at the zoo swilled around in my mind.

  Wierda tried to give a detailed account as I kept walking around Oom Paul’s statue, causing him to have to follow me around. I stopped every now and then to look at one of the plaques set in the stonework.

  V3752 Andries Njele

  V3753 David Mkumbeni

  54

  Three young men robbed and killed Mr Pieter Grobler and cremated his body on a pyre of wood and car tyres. One was shot dead by the police and the other two stood trial together.

  Mr Pieter Grobler was an employee of Checkers. In his mid-forties, he still lived with his mother. On Sunday 15 June 1986 he left for work just after eight o’clock in the morning. He stayed only for a short while and left work again at about twenty to nine. His mother and his co-workers never saw him again. He did not return home that afternoon and he did not turn up for work the next day. His remains were found more than two months later, on 18 August. They consisted of a few bones. His body had been incinerated.

  An eye witness described Mr Grobler’s last movements. Miss Miriam Booysen was walking along the road to Zuurbekom on the afternoon of 15 June when Mr Grobler stopped next to her in his Audi. He offered her a lift, which she accepted. They drove towards Westonaria. Along the way Mr Grobler offered to pay Miss Booysen for sex. She agreed. Mr Grobler drove the car into a wooded area near Zuurbekom and stopped in a secluded place in the bush. They got into the back seat of the car and started having sexual intercourse.

  Three young men suddenly appeared next to the car. They were the two accused, Andries Njele and David Mkumbeni, and Mkumbeni’s brother Eddie. According to Njele, David and Eddie had recruited him to do some extra work that Sunday and they had met at the appointed place. He had been told that he was going to work as a mechanic, but when they met David Mkumbeni told him that what he and his brother really did in their spare time was to rob people. They persuaded him to go along with them for the day and Eddie gave him a spare knife to use.

  As they were walking through the bush they saw Mr Grobler’s car approaching. Eddie told Njele that he was to wait in the bush with David until Eddie gave them the signal. They were then to come forward and help rob the victims.

  Njele and the Mkumbeni brothers lay in wait in the bush and watched as Mr Grobler and Miss Booysen parked the car and made their preparations in the back seat. After a while Eddie gave the signal and Njele and Da
vid Mkumbeni ran over to the car, one on either side. They tried the door handles, which were locked. The three men shouted at Mr Grobler to open the doors, but he did not comply. Instead he tried to get into the front seat. One of the men broke the driver’s side window and they dragged Mr Grobler out of the car. He emerged with a whip in his hand. He struck out at the attackers with it. All three of them stabbed at him with knives and they overpowered him quickly. They threw him to the ground and tied his hands and feet together. Then they put him in the boot of the car. Miss Booysen had also alighted from the car by then, but the three men told her to get back in. They then drove the car deeper into the bush.

  When they opened the boot, Mr Grobler had somehow managed to untie the rope around his wrists and he sat up as soon as the boot was opened. He asked for water. They tied his wrists again. He asked them to let him go, offering them money, but they refused. Eddie told Njele and David Mkumbeni not to hurt the deceased. Njele asked Mr Grobler if he could remember what the next day was. Njele was alluding to the fact that 16 June was the remembrance day of the Soweto uprising of 1976.

  Njele was standing behind Mr Grobler. He licked the blood from the knife. Eddie again told his brother and Njele not to kill Mr Grobler; he did not want to see that. Njele had a hammer. He asked Miss Booysen where he should hit the deceased. She said she didn’t know. Eventually she said anywhere. Njele then hit Mr Grobler with the hammer behind the right ear. Mr Grobler fell into the boot of the car. While he was prone in the boot Njele hit him twice more on the head with the hammer. Njele then placed a nylon rope around Mr Grobler’s neck and he and Eddie pulled at the ends to strangle him. When Mr Grobler’s head protruded from the boot of the car, Njele slammed the lid on his neck. Miss Booysen couldn’t stand what was going on any longer. She said, ‘That’s enough. He’s dead.’ They closed the boot and drove off with her.

  Later, the three men let Miss Booysen out and gave her some of Mr Grobler’s possessions, two blankets, three T-shirts and a set of jumper cables. They told her that if she went to the police they would kill her. She went home. The three men went off to buy some beer first and then drove to Eddie’s place of employment where they picked up some audio cassette tapes to play in the car. They waited until dark before they drove the car back into the bush.

  Eddie organised a search for combustible material. He sent Njele to look for wood and David to look for old car tyres. They built a pyre of dry wood, placed the body on it and then placed car tyres on top. They found a can of motor oil in the boot of the car and poured its contents over the body. Then they lit the pyre.

  They left the scene once they saw that the fire was burning fiercely. They fetched Meisie Njele from her home and picked up Njele’s girlfriend and a mutual friend. Meisie was David Mkumbeni’s girlfriend. There were six of them in the car. They took turns driving. While Meisie was driving, Constable Lefakane of the South African Police stopped the car. Eddie and the friend ran away. The other four were taken to the police station at Westonaria. They told Constable Lefakane that they had been to a festival in Pretoria. When the police searched the men they found them in possession of knives. The police tried to establish whether the car had been stolen, but there had been no report to that effect. So the police let them go. The police actually gave them a lift to Eddie’s house. But they kept the car because none of the occupants could produce a driver’s licence. They were told that they could fetch the car later, provided they brought someone with a valid licence to drive it.

  When Mr Grobler did not arrive home on 15 June and did not turn up for work the next day his mother and co-workers started making inquiries and eventually reported to the police that he was missing. They gave the police details of his car. For the next two months there were no leads. Then Captain F J la Grange took over the investigation on 13 August. He traced Mr Grobler’s car – it was still in police custody – on 15 August. The Westonaria police had placed it in the pound and had forgotten about it. When Captain la Grange found the car he started picking up the threads of available evidence. He traced Constable Lefakane who gave him the details of the driver, Meisie Njele. She, in turn, led the police to Eddie. Captain la Grange arrested Eddie on 17 August. A search of Eddie’s room led to the discovery of Mr Grobler’s gold pen, his watch and a cassette tape, Sing the Gospel. A yellow Checkers T-shirt was found at the same time. These items constituted sufficient links to the disappearance of the deceased to warrant Eddie’s arrest.

  Eddie took the police to the bush on 18 August and pointed out the spot where Mr Grobler’s body had been disposed of. Some small bones were visible in the ashes of what must have been a large fire. Two pathologists attended. Under their supervision the ashes were sifted and a number of small items came to light. The police took possession of some metallic remnants while the pathologists took the few bones they had found. The metal items included a bunch of keys, a small buckle and some small rings.

  Eddie escaped from police custody, but was re-arrested on 22 August. He tried to escape again and the police shot him dead. However, while he had been alive Eddie had given the police sufficient information to enable them to identify Njele and David Mkumbeni. In September the police arrested them. Both admitted their involvement in the scheme to rob Mr Grobler and that they had jointly killed him and disposed of the body by incinerating it.

  The Court found both of them guilty on both counts. No extenuating circum stances were present on the murder count. The robbery had been accompanied by violence, serious injuries and exceptional cruelty. Those were aggravating circumstances, and on 20 May 1987 the Judge gave Njele and Mkumbeni double death sentences.

  They were hanged on 10 December 1987. They were both still in their mid-twenties.

  Oom Paul, in stone two and a half times his size in life, stands facing north, easily six metres above ground level on a blue granite pedestal set on top of an octagon of Transvaal sandstone. He is guarded by four burghers in commando uniform at the foot of the octagon, each facing outwards at ninety degrees from his neighbours. They hold their German Mauser rifles at the ready. There are four copper relief panels depicting important events in Oom Paul’s personal part in the history of the Transvaal Republic; the relief panes are set in alternating facets of the octagon, the burghers with their rifles occupying the facets between the panels.

  I allowed my subconscious mind to find solutions while I busied myself with trifles, but the answers were slow in coming.

  Wierda and I had to wait for a white minibus taxi to pass before we could cross the road. It stopped in front of us, on the pedestrian crossing, and we had to wait while the driver’s assistant jumped out and opened the sliding door for a clutch of passengers to alight. The young man slammed the door shut and the taxi drove off. I stood looking after it for a long time.

  Wierda interrupted my thoughts. ‘Come on, we’re going to be late. What’s wrong with you?’

  I was trying to think, but that was the problem. Thinking only made it worse.

  Palace of Justice

  55

  We had just crossed the street in front of the Palace of Justice when it finally struck me.

  ‘I need to show you something,’ I said to Wierda. We were on the steps.

  ‘We need to find a minibus taxi quickly,’ I said as I turned back towards the street. ‘Come with me.’

  Wierda looked at me with uncomprehending eyes. ‘We’re going to be late,’ he insisted, but I didn’t have time to explain.

  We stepped back into the street. I tried to flag a taxi down, but the driver and his assistant drove past, craning their necks to look at these strange white people in suits wanting to ride in their township taxi. We could have been the police.

  We gave up and had to rush back into court.

  Wierda and I made it just in time before Judge van Zyl and his Assessors took their seats.

  Dr Shapiro slowly gathered his papers when I called him to the witness box. He was dressed like the professor he was, in brown rubber-soled shoes
, chino pants, white shirt and a light tweed jacket. Roshnee had gone to great lengths to find him and to persuade him to give evidence for us. His credentials were impeccable and the fact that we had called an expert witness all the way from America would make headlines that evening and the next morning. A registered medical practitioner and psychiatrist of many years’ standing, he was also on the psychiatric evaluation panels of the United States District Court of the Central District of California and the Los Angeles County Superior Court. He owned and ran a psychiatric medical centre and held numerous fellowships and consultancies. The court was hushed when he spoke; reporters followed the example of the Judge and both prosecutors in writing down every word he said.

  We needed Dr Shapiro to explain why Labuschagne had killed the seven men at the reservoir and how he could have done so in circumstances that meant that he could not be held criminally responsible for his actions. The evidence was technical and it took a while to lay the proper foundation for the opinions on which our case depended.

  Dr Shapiro kept his main opinions simple.

  We humans were descended from the apes, he said, and a large part of our behaviour was still being directed by inherited instincts. Those instincts, he explained, were present in us and found expression in emotion-driven acts. Certain stimuli produced anger, others feelings of love, and so on. But, he added, we had evolved beyond the realm of the apes, since God had also given us an intellect, the capacity to think, to work new things out from what we knew already, to plan future activities, and even to ignore or override most of our emotional responses. That was what elevated us above all other animals: our ability to think, to reason, to remember, to learn. Thus, Dr Shapiro advised the Court, everyday human conduct was driven by a mind that in the normal person was controlled in more or less equal measure by emotion and intellect.

 

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