by David Vander
The reporter pointed at a screen behind him, where the brief video from Stacey had just started playing. In the video she said, “I took the precaution of making this video as I have received several very specific death threats over recent days. Following the brutal murder of Simon, who recorded a video admitting to the contract killing of Kirsten Spectre and the disappearance of Gerald Visser, I have feared for my life. If you are watching this video, it means that I have either been murdered or kidnapped. I obviously pray for my survival, but to be honest I am very scared. Should I not be found, I would urge the police to investigate Daniella Arundel closely. To my husband Slade and my family and friends, I love you.”
When the video clip ended, the news reporter said, “Stirring stuff. I think this story is going to make headlines for a while.”
Stacey sat back, half gloating, half concerned, as she had now taken the battle with Daniella to a whole new level. This was now going to be a bitter fight to the end. She would love to see Daniella’s face when she saw this video, as it was going to be challenging for her to claim fake news. She quietly said a prayer of protection over Slade. Now that the news and video were out, she could start moving about and start working her plan to finally get Daniella arrested. She flipped off the television as she heard someone climbing the staircase, and moments later Gladys entered the room, giving her only a casual glance before going to her room, again making her realise it was going to be a lonely few days or weeks.
Wanting to get out of the cramped up quarters, she glanced at the wall clock. As it would be dusk outside, she had a small window of time before it was dark. Looking at herself in the mirror after she had disguised herself, she chuckled at just how different she appeared. She headed cautiously down the stairs and apprehensively placed a hand on the door handle. Although her stomach was churning, she boldly opened the door and glanced out onto the street. Although there were people around, nobody seemed to notice her, or even care that she was there. Her nerves were going slightly haywire inside, and she tried her best to appear normal, as she managed to cover several blocks before heading back to the safe house. She was relieved when she got inside, but realised that given her angst, she had not been aware of what was happening around her. She would need to be far more alert if she was to be effective under cover. “Small steps,” she said to herself.
Gladys was in the kitchen cooking, “Hi Sarie. Looks like you have taken your first steps out. It gets easier. Just be careful walking around here at night. There are lots of gangs lurking in the shadows and then you always have the drug peddlers and petty thieves.”
Stacey sensed a small opening for discussion, and being aware of steering clear of personal issues asked, “How bad is the gang and drug problem out here?”
Gladys scowled at her, “You rich girls just don’t get it. This area is still mild, but the real disaster area is in the townships in the Cape Flats”
Without thinking through her next remark, she replied, “I would like to see it for myself.”
Gladys paused in her stirring of the pot, “Are you serious?”
Unconvincingly Stacey softly replied, “Yes.”
Gladys stared intently at her, “OK. I’ll take you tomorrow. It’s not like we are rushing off to work tomorrow. Just brace yourself for a culture shock.” Stacey merely nodded, and they ate their meal in silence, before she headed off to her room.
Chapter Fifty-Two
Stacey was jolted out of a deep sleep by a loud knock on her door. Gladys shouted, “Wake up Sarie, it’s time for your educational excursion.”
She replied, ‘OK, I’ll be ready in a few minutes.” She had a coldish shower, and then dressed and disguised herself for day out. As she had never been into the townships, she was nervous, not knowing what to expect, but also excited, without knowing why.
When they were both ready, Gladys gave her a once over look, and chirped, “Not quite your style, but I guess, neither is this place. Let’s go. Just remember, say nothing unless you absolutely have to.”
Gladys led them cautiously onto the street, before walking for a few blocks to a taxi rank. She hailed a taxi and the two of them jumped into the minivan. Although she received some strange looks, nobody really seemed to mind, each clearly engrossed in their own thoughts. She forced herself out of her comfort zone and started to quietly observe those around her. It was a moving experience as she studied the faces of those in the minivan, with each face telling a different story. There was a middle-aged woman who seemed exhausted, her head bobbing up and down as she tried to stay awake. A young man was all smiles as he engaged with social media on his mobile phone. An older grey-haired man appeared to be in deep emotional pain, his face screaming out for sympathy. The woman next to her was absolutely still, staring intently through the front windscreen. Stacey noticed that mostly the clothes they all wore were old, but neat and clean, the realization of the poverty that some of them were subjected to. Even though she was grappling with her own issues, it was humbling to realise that each of those around her were likely dealing with their own challenging realities. Her eyes caught those of Gladys, who simply gave her a knowing nod. Stacey knew that Gladys had deliberately planned this trip for her and wished that she could ask her about her life story but knew that was not going to happen.
Twenty minutes later they arrived in Guguletu on the Cape Flats. Stacey’s attention was soon drawn to the external surroundings. The squalor of the shanty town appalled her, and she was tempted to ask Gladys for them to return to the safe house. Before she could contemplate it, the taxi had stopped, and Gladys was tugging her arm to follow her out. Stacey shoved the cheap sunglasses over her eyes and followed Gladys reluctantly. Gladys glanced around and then slowly started walking down the street. Stacey wanted to ask where they were going, but realised that she was already twenty paces behind, and not wanting to be left alone, she scurried to catch up, following her silent guide.
Forcing herself again to accept that she was out of her comfort zone, Stacey made a mental shift to allow her natural senses to kick in, capturing mental images, smelling the rank odours, isolating the various sounds and feeling the mood. She was struck by the rudimentary construction of the shanty town, that used whatever waste materials were available, to create shelter and temporary homes. The smell of pit latrines and sewage was thick in the air, but occasionally the tantalising smell of fresh bread being baked forced its way through. She became aware of the old people sitting outside on plastic crates, soaking up the sun, their faces telling sad tales of misery. As she stared at the group, one of the old woman caught her eye, and managed to flash a smile, showing a mouth with almost no teeth. She felt a deep stirring inside as she realised that many of those around her in this community were living from day to day with little purpose or motivation to change their dire circumstances. She also became aware of the small children, running around in tatty clothes, laughing while they were aimlessly chasing each other around. Her heart saddened to think that their smiles would one day fade as they became victims of circumstance. A young girl stopped to stare at Stacey, probably intrigued by what she was doing in their environment. The little girl giggled, before charging after her friends. Stacey continued walking, looking back at the innocent young children. She had not noticed that Gladys had stopped in front of her, and she bumped awkwardly into her.
Gladys had stopped to talk to a frail old lady that was selling mielie cobs that had been roasted on a small fire. She paid for two and passed one to Stacey, “Try this, I think you will like it.”
Stacey accepted the offered mielie and chewed on the cob, and after a few bites, “Delicious, thanks.”
Gladys cautioned, “For the next few minutes, keep your eyes looking forward.”
She was about to ask a question, when she saw the groups of gang members huddled together on the narrow streets. An immediate shudder ran down her back as she realised the potential danger they were in, and she stayed very close to Gladys, and kept her gaze looking stra
ight ahead. Behind her sunglasses, her eyes darted from side to side, taking in the young gangsters as they passed them. Her skin crawled as she felt the stares, and her heart raced as she heard a cat-call whistle, with one of the leaders, who was covered in horrific looking tattoos, saying loudly, “Hey you two, come to me, I can show you a good time.” This brought loud cheers from the unruly gangsters. Stacey also noticed how some of the neighbours scurried inside at the sound of the laughter. She found herself praying and was relieved when they had moved well past the bunch. While her heart was racing, she noticed that Gladys looked calm, or at least she appeared to be calm on the outside.
After another ten minutes or so, Gladys stopped at another street vendor who was selling coffee and tea. She ordered two cups of tea, and they sat down on old crates under a well-worn old umbrella. The old lady brought them two cups of tea, in enamel cups which had seen better days. Stacey sipped hesitantly, but soon recognised the taste of the rooibos tea. Gladys smiled at her, “Those gangsters are the second worse curse that we face each day on the Cape Flats. They terrorise, steal, plunder and rape as they please.”
Feeling the all too familiar shudder crawling down her back, Stacey looked back uneasily in the direction where they had seen the gangsters, before asking, “What’s the worst?”
Gladys rubbed her eyes, and slowly replied, “I’ll show you later.” She avoided further eye contact as she finished her tea. After thanking the old lady, she paid and set off without waiting for Stacey, who had to gulp the last of her tea and dart after her.
A few blocks further on, Gladys eased up and paused outside of a rundown community hall. Stacey detected how her body language changed as she seemed to gather energy before entering the hall. She followed Gladys guardedly, as she entered the dimly-lit hall. Nothing in the world could have prepared Stacey for what she found inside, and she found herself gasping for air, and an instant nausea rising in her throat. The hall was being used to house and care for drug addicts. Stacey felt light headed as she took in the sight of the human beings in front of her, some drooped over, others shivering, some anorexic and most with bloodshot eyes. The worst was the look of utter despair, rejection and fear in their eyes, an image that Stacey knew would live with her forever. As she took in the poor souls, her eyes stopped on a young boy, who was probably about fifteen, and although he was looking back at her, it was a lifeless stare, but one that seemed to be begging for mercy. Not able to absorb anymore, she rushed back to the door and vomited outside, standing with her hands on her knees, staring at the ground in disbelief. Feeling embarrassed, she looked up, but nobody seemed to have noticed. Digging deep she found the courage to re-enter the room, and she instantly saw Gladys, sitting cross-legged on the floor, holding the hand of a young child, seemingly giving her words of encouragement. Even from a distance, she saw the emotion on the face of Gladys. She was then drawn back to the young girl, who was visibly frail, her body covered in scars and seemingly living her last days. Stacey’s heart cried out to the little girl, and as she stood in the middle of the room, she closed her eyes, whispering to herself, “Why God? Why let this happen?” She felt her mind wandering off, seemingly drifting along with images of the addicts floating past her every few seconds.
She felt tears running down her cheeks, the unappreciated and really, unknown, security of her privileged upbringing giving way to deep empathy. She knew her outlook on life was being changed forever. She also knew in that moment, that she was here for a greater purpose.
Gladys came over, the tears in her eyes clearly visible, “It’s time to leave.” She placed a hand on Stacey’s shoulder and led her gently to the door, and out into the welcoming sunshine outside. They walked in silence as they headed for a taxi rank. They drove in silence, with Stacey unable to focus or even look at anyone.
Stacey and Gladys sat opposite each other at the small dining room table. Stacey was still very emotional from the experience of the day, “Thank you for opening my eyes today Gladys, for showing me how cruel the world is and how the drug dealers are destroying families.” Her thoughts went briefly to Simon, as she felt the pain he must have gone through, and why he was prepared to undertake the contract killing to get his son back. She looked up at Gladys again, and saw a deep hurt in her eyes, “Who was the young girl today?”
Gladys lifted her head, her eyes welling with tears, “That is my little girl. Her life has been destroyed by drugs and gang violence. She is slowly dying, and there is nothing I can do.” With that she sniffed loudly and shuffled to her room, slamming the door loudly behind her.
Stacey sat in silence, feeling too traumatised to move. She allowed the tears to flow, trying her best to alter the image of Gladys’s daughter in her mind, but the image seemed to morph into more and more vivid detail. Somewhere during the night, she fell asleep on the couch in a curled up position, but the nightmares continued all through the lonely night.
She spent the following day, lying in bed, trying in vain to sleep. She was unable to eat or think.
Chapter Fifty-Three
It took her two days to find the courage to finally head back to Cape Town city centre, even though she did not yet have any clear plan. It was the first time that she had used the local taxi on her own and was holding fearfully onto her seat as the taxi driver weaved through traffic, jumped red robots and cut off other drivers. For her it was further realisation of the dangers ordinary citizens faced each day.
Instinctively she first headed to the street in which WKJD’s offices were located, and found a secluded spot, from where she could see the office building. She longed for the day that she could be back in her office, free from Daniella and able to focus solely on running WKJD as a successful business. She spent most of the morning, staring at the office building and strangers going about their daily lives. Occasionally she saw one of her staff enter or leave the building. She felt the urge to test her disguise, when she saw Lucy come out of the office, heading for a food truck nearby. She took a deep breath, and edged closer to Lucy, before greeting her politely. Lucy looked straight at her and greeted her. Lucy faced forward, and then glanced back at Stacey again, before turning to place her food order. Stacey felt her confidence growing as she realised that her disguise was holding up just fine.
She then decided to head for the apartment block where she had previously seen some of Daniella’s henchmen. She opted to walk, grateful for the exercise after being cooped up in the safe house for a few days. The shoes she had chosen for the day were not a good fit, and by the time she got there, she could feel the blisters developing. The long wait outside of the apartment block, proved to be fruitless, and she felt the despair of not having a clear strategy or action plan.
As she got up to leave her lonely vigil, a beggar caught her attention, more particularly the way he walked. She slowly followed him, and drew level with him, sensing something familiar about him. Her heart leapt wildly when the beggar whispered without looking at her, “Hello Sarie. Don’t look at me, just keep walking.”
She did her best to contain her excitement, and whispered back, “My goodness Gerald, I am so glad you are alive.”
He stopped to rummage in a dustbin, reinforcing his disguise to anyone who might be looking, “Meet me at the old harbour stakeout tomorrow morning.”
She continued walking, feeling relief that he was indeed alive, but more critically that she had someone to help her plan Daniella’s downfall. She said a silent prayer and sought a taxi to get her back to the safe house.
She arrived home, eager to share her day with Gladys, but knowing full well that she could not. The safe house was deserted, and she switched on the lights. She saw a note on the table, which simply said, “Good luck.” Stacey went to her room, knowing that she would find it deserted. A quick scan of the room confirmed this. Stacey thought about her brief acquaintance, and the unforgettable day in the Cape Flats, before saying aloud, “Good luck to you too Gladys, or whatever your real name is.”
For
the first time since her arrival at the safe house, Stacey was up early, eating a full breakfast and then selecting her disguise for the day. She wore her Fatpants, a baggy sweater and some old sneakers. She looked in the mirror and wondered what Slade would say about her new look. As she looked into the mirror, she realised how much she missed him. The emotional journey of the last few days had left little time to think about him. She hoped he was OK, and that Daniella and her henchmen would stay far away from him.
It was just after nine in the morning, when she exited the taxi close to the old harbour. As she neared the entrance of the dilapidated building, she noticed a police officer hovering near the entrance, casually staring up at the windows above. Panic set in, and she thought to herself, is this a trap?
She crossed to the opposite side of the street, careful not to look the way of the police officer, and continued to walk for another hundred meters. As she passed a warehouse, she saw someone beckon from inside. She paused but could not identify the person in the dark shadows. Her mind was racing; should she carry on or enter the warehouse? Then she heard Gerald’s voice, “It’s OK, Sarie.” She instantly felt relief and entered the warehouse. Gerald was disguised as a warehouse worker and was wearing a greasy overall. He led her upstairs to a loft area, from where they could see the whole warehouse below, including the entrance. He sat down on a makeshift bench and offered her a plastic chair.
Stacey whispered, “I am so glad to see you Gerald. Are you OK?”
Gerald replied, “Yes, I am fine thanks. I’m also glad to see that you are OK.” He pulled out a flask and poured two cups of coffee, offering one to Stacey. “I suppose you must be wondering why I also disappeared?” She nodded, before he continued, “Shortly after we did that drug bust and arrested Inspector Jonas, he escaped, or more likely was released by someone who is on Daniella’s payroll. One of the few police officers I still trust tipped me off. I had a deep sense that he would come after me. On the spur of the moment, I left the office, telling only Magriet that I was going underground. She knew not to ask any questions. Anyway, I called my wife on the way home and told her to be ready in fifteen minutes. I had regularly drilled an evacuation procedure into her. When I got home ten minutes later she was packed and ready to go. I then drove her and the kids to a safe house in Somerset West. I left them there and decided to go home again to collect a few more things. As I was driving down the street towards our home, I could see several police cars parked outside my house. I turned up the next street and headed back to the office, leaving my car close by to the office. I have been using the stakeout building for the last few days, until that police officer showed up this morning, only minutes before you arrived.”