Cry of the Firebird

by T. M. Clark

  ‘Sounds like I need to speak with Klein-Piet first,’ Lily said.

  CHAPTER

  7

  Piet Kleinman, police detective and master tracker, half sat on the edge of his chair and tapped on the desk while he read through the file in front of him.

  ‘Why the tapping, you only do that when you are agitated,’ Detective Natalie Hatch said.

  ‘Dr Hawthorne’s case. Things amiss.’

  ‘Then you are in luck, look what just arrived.’

  Piet rolled his chair over to Natalie’s desk. ‘What is it?’

  Natalie pointed at her computer screen. ‘We have a comprehensive reply from Johies.’

  ‘The detective in the main Jo’burg office?’

  ‘Ja.’

  Piet read the typed message.

  Re: Hijacking death—extended report request for information.

  Case: #203-872-340.

  Autopsy Performed: Yes.

  Coroner Findings:

  Cause of Death: Double gunshot to the right temple.

  Manner: Homicide.

  Other notes: Multiple contusions consistent with physical assault. Powder burns on skin consistent with close-range discharge of weapon. Broken fingers and wrists, left knee shot.

  Weapon: Matched to 9mm used in the following cases:

  #203-561-290, #203-870-001, #203-211-892, #208-111-052, #208-528-348.

  No further arrests made on any of the above cases.

  Files boxed and on their way to you. I have scanned important pages from each, see attached.

  Please advise if you need any other information.

  Detective Selvin Naidoo

  ‘Can you see the pattern from the case numbers? Three other hijackings and two home invasions,’ she said in an almost excited voice.

  ‘Home invasions or farm attacks?’ Piet asked.

  ‘Let’s take a look.’ Natalie’s fingers danced across the keyboard as she printed all the case files that were attached.

  Piet collected the last pages as they spat out of the printer and spread them on his desk. They both worked in silence for a while, then they laid the papers down in order: autopsy results, crime-scene reports, case notes.

  ‘Home invasions, that means the killer is most likely a city dweller,’ Piet said.

  ‘Other hijacks, all in the Johannesburg areas, except Hawthorne outside of Kimberley. The killer and his gun moved far out of his usual target zone for this one.’

  ‘What was so important about Ian Hawthorne? There was nothing special about him,’ Piet said.

  ‘Ag, come on; he wasn’t a likeable man in the slightest. That time you introduced me to him, he was a sexist pig. If that’s what he was like to me as a policewoman, I can only imagine how bad he could be. The man gave me the creeps. Reminds me a lot of our new Acting Chief Aarand Chetty.’ She dropped her voice for that last part, just in case. ‘Slimy and disrespectful to women, argumentative and a moron.’

  Piet smiled. ‘Ja, but he loved the African bush; you did not see that side. He would spend hours with me, learning to track, recording all the different names, trying to speak !Xun. I give you that he was not the most pleasant person, but this type of death, it’s personal. The beating, the shooting in the knees as if they wanted something from him and he was not giving it over. What did he have that was so important? He was a doctor who was studying the effects of HIV in a displaced population; nothing worth stealing in that.’

  ‘Whatever it was, surely it wasn’t worth dying over?’ Natalie said.

  ‘Where else were the home invasions?’

  Natalie looked over the two cases. ‘Sandton and Fourways.’

  ‘Both affluent suburbs.’

  ‘Ja … perhaps there is more to this man than you knew. You sure you want to stay on this case, given that you were friends?’

  ‘Totally.’

  ‘Chetty is aware of your personal connection?’

  ‘Ja, he was fine with it. But I do not think at the time he was aware of what this case really would become.’

  ‘Meaning?’

  ‘A month ago, when I was investigating the robbery at Hawthorne’s house, I asked to remain as the detective on the case. He was adamant that Ian was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. An unfortunate statistic. Not worth investigating, the perfect job for “my type”. So, I got to keep it.’

  ‘But to you?’ she asked, looking at him.

  ‘It has always pointed to much more. That is why I was digging deeper. The hijacking alone, sure, they just wanted his 4x4. But put the house robbery on the same night, and I smell a polecat.’

  ‘And the fact he’s a doctor? You think there’s a connection?’

  ‘I have not managed to put a link to that yet, but the killing of foreign doctors on South African soil is not something anyone would want to get into the media. They would have a merry time with it, and it could damage the tourist industry to the area. I do not think Chetty thought about that at all, to be honest. But I think that we should find Ian’s killer regardless of who or what he was—there is more to his death.’

  ‘I agree. Chetty is a shithead. Always has been. Should have heard what he had to say about me being on extended leave when he got this temporary appointment. I knew I needed to get back in here or risk being fired in my absence. Let’s hope we can solve this before we get our new chief. It’s still a few more months before we find out who’s incoming.’

  ‘Let’s hope so. If Chetty doesn’t drive me to drink first.’

  ‘That I would hate to see.’

  ‘Me too. What do the cases say about the other drivers in the other hijackings? Same MO?’

  Natalie shook her head. ‘Different. The others were all clean. Close-range, execution style. No beatings.’

  ‘They took it up a notch. Either desperate, or this isn’t just an ordinary hijacking for a vehicle. They wanted to know something, which comes back to my first reaction: it was personal.’

  ‘Guess the good doctor needs deeper scrutiny now?’ Natalie said.

  ‘I suppose so. Good thing Chetty still has not realised it. Remember, I am not exactly in his good graces either. To him, I am just a tracker who happens to have become a detective. My job is to find people at crime scenes, lost kids in the bushveld etcetera. What do I know about hijackings and robberies? It is not something I can track. Do you remember what he said when he had too many spook-n-diesels at Christmas? I am “just one of those Platfontein people, smoking, drinking and gambling my life away.”’

  ‘That’s bullshit, alcohol talking. A racist remark that belongs in the apartheid era and you know it. He’s a fucking loser. Always has been. Who knows, maybe he has blue balls under those pants he wears to work, maybe his wife keeps him on a stingy ration? I would if I was married to that arsehole. The only person he loves is himself. He’s a bitter old buzzard, you know like those ground hornbills with the big jowly faces.’ She laughed for a moment and then realised that Piet wasn’t joining in. ‘Ag, come on, that was funny. I’ll download a picture for you.’

  Piet just looked at her blankly, shaking his head.

  ‘You do know what a ground hornbill looks like, don’t you?’

  ‘Of course I do. But it is an insult to the bird to say that our boss is like him, that is all.’

  Natalie laughed loudly and smacked Piet on the shoulder. ‘Good one. Okay, look here … this could get interesting. None of the vehicles in the hijackings were the same, so they are not after parts. A Merc, the only high-end vehicle, then a Mini.’

  ‘Who hijacks a Mini?’ Piet said. ‘And an older model at that?’

  ‘The same people who next took a VW Jetta station wagon, before Ian’s Land Cruiser.’

  ‘Where’s your mind going?’ Piet asked.

  ‘Down a dark track. This is more than just Ian Hawthorne in this case. There’s something else going on here,’ Natalie said.

  ‘You have to be one of the most suspicious policewomen on the force, but I agree with you
this time.’

  ‘That’s what got me into this detective position in Johannesburg. This baby didn’t sleep her way to the top, no, she worked her arse off, building cases just like this one.’

  ‘We have work to do, you and I. Right, partner,’ he said. Despite Natalie and him being friends since the police academy almost twenty years before, they were the outcasts: the Barbie doll and the tracker. Unlikely friends and undesirable recruits. Together they had survived their training and their postings all over South Africa, and finally, they were in the same town again and actually got to work together.

  Right now, Piet wanted to jump in their police 4x4 and rush to Johannesburg and fetch the boxes himself. He was impatient for more information on the cases. He’d already put two and two together and seen it made five. He could feel it deep inside. Almost a slight tremor in his stomach, and he’d learned many years ago never to ignore that instinct. To follow it.

  That was what kept him alive in the Kalahari, then in the Caprivi Strip, and across South Africa, once he joined the police force and slowly moved up the ranks. It made him a good cop. It was what had got him promoted to detective. Given him his little bit of freedom inside the force. That, and the fact that he was not only a master tracker but also the best tracker, just as Natalie had pointed out.

  Piet sat down next to Natalie again. ‘You know, Hawthorne was killed nearer Johannesburg than Kimberley. While we got to process the body, they took lead on the case. Their jurisdiction. Because Chetty had given me the case of the robbery, I requested their investigation notes. A name I know from my past popped in Hawthorne’s file.’

  He handed her the papers. ‘When I first saw this, I thought it did not look like a normal hijacking, and yet the police officer in charge, Warrant Officer Sithole, has ruled it as one. There is no progress on the case. It has stalled, but when I read through the papers, I saw so much more. It looks a lot like the good doctor was executed in the temple while he was on his knees. It is quite clear from the photos. Add into the mix that his Land Cruiser was taken. And yet, his wallet was still in his pocket, along with a few hundred rand. Who robs a vehicle and leaves the cash? I have seen this execution style before on a case about ten years ago. It involved some gun-running gangs in Pretoria and Johannesburg. I never got to the bottom of the case as I was pulled off it, and it was given to another Warrant Officer. Sithole.’

  ‘Same officer?’

  ‘Same man. He was a new transfer into the department, so to give him cases was not unusual. I have often wondered what happened. So, while I was in the mood for being a nosy parker, I requested the older files, too. And surprise, surprise, it was never solved. The same guy who signed off on Hawthorne’s case as being just a hijacking, my old friend—the legendary Warrant Officer Sithole.’

  ‘You think he’s a dirty cop?’

  Piet nodded. ‘I think that not only have we encountered a cop on the take, willing to look the other way, but I have stumbled into the same group of criminals. The gun-runner gangs of Johannesburg. Back then they were small time. I do not know what they are now. Time and the complacency of violence in the new South Africa, they could be much bigger. I cannot help but wonder when I look into the older cases.’

  ‘That Hawthorne might be involved with gangs? With gun runners?’ Natalie asked.

  ‘Maybe. His hijacking, his house being trashed. They are related, we just need to figure out how.’ He looked at her. ‘We should request all the homicide files where Sithole was the main or only case officer. But those will come in as full manual files.’

  ‘Oh great. More paperwork,’ Natalie said.

  ‘We need to send a few emails; it would be good to speak with the coroners and the detectives on all those cases. We need to see if there is another gun, see if there are more home invasions with other weapons that were the same MO.’

  ‘Ja—okay,’ Natalie said. ‘If we start with the coroners and move outwards, the paper files of the other related cases from Naidoo should arrive by tomorrow. Then we can sort through them and see what else the detectives have noted. Naidoo did well sending us the important pages, but hopefully there’s more useful stuff in the files.’

  ‘Can you do a search for other hijacks and home invasions that Sithole was on?’ Piet asked.

  ‘You know that there is a computer on your desk that you have been taught how to use? You remember how to write an email?’

  Piet grinned. ‘I hate it. You know that. You type so much faster than me. So much easier for you to do it.’

  ‘You, Piet Kleinman are as bad as most of the other males in this office. That’s a sexist thing to say!’

  ‘Nee, it is not meant like that, you are just better and faster at it,’ he quickly said.

  ‘Mmm,’ Natalie replied as she opened her email program.

  They drafted an email to Dr Ros Juliet, the coroner in Kimberley. Piet had known Dr Juliet since he’d first become a cop and was stationed in the small town of Kokstad before it grew bigger. He’d been sent there because the population was influenced heavily by the coloured Adam Kock, and despite Piet being of San origin, the powers that be had deemed that he would pass as a coloured. The South African Government had still been trying to hide the fact that the San had been brought into South Africa, and that they had played a part in the border wars at all.

  Piet slouched back in his chair and massaged his temples, trying to blot out those days. It was a different time then, and one that was difficult for him and his people.

  ‘You want to have lunch before we send any more?’ Natalie asked.

  ‘Is the rinkhals poisonous?’ Piet said as he grabbed his hat off his desk. ‘Lead the way to the Spur, my china.’

  * * *

  The sizzling plate in front of Piet looked and smelled awesome. But the item he loved the most was the deep-fried onion rings.

  ‘Addictive, oily but sublime!’ he murmured as he popped one into his mouth.

  ‘That extra saturated fat isn’t doing you any favours,’ Natalie said. ‘Despite what people believe about the Sans’ ability to overeat, you can’t run if you have a huge pot belly in the front and a big bottom bouncing around at the back.’

  Piet laughed. ‘Stereotype much? I figure as long as I can still run ten ks and be able to breathe at the end of it, I am doing okay.’

  ‘You need to take better care of yourself, Piet. We’re not getting any younger,’ Natalie said.

  Once many years ago in police college, he’d wanted to be more than friends with Natalie, but that was a different time, when the apartheid regime was strong—and she was white, he was across the colour bar, and only tolerated in the police force because of how he had helped the SADF in Caprivi.

  His tribe had been placed in tents in Schmidtsdrift then, while he was shunted from station to station because of his skills. They’d never passed ‘go’ when Martin had come along and stolen Natalie’s heart anyway. Just a few short years later, he’d smashed her heart into a million pieces when he’d died from being caught in a riot in the townships. At least he’d left her the legacy of Breanna, Piet’s goddaughter.

  ‘Ja, very funny … but talking of age. Breanna’s birthday’s coming up, what can I get her?’ Piet asked.

  ‘I’ll give it some thought, perhaps slip it into a conversation with her that you were asking what to get. She’ll be unhappy that I came out to lunch with you without her, again,’ Natalie said.

  ‘Tell her it was work-related.’

  Natalie smiled. ‘It’s always work-related. She doesn’t care, she loves the Spur.’

  ‘Our lunches are more than just work—they are a necessity to survive the police force. Get out of the office once in a while and be real people.’

  ‘I agree,’ Natalie said.

  ‘Besides, what type of partner would I be if I did not accompany you to lunch. Martin will come haunt me for not keeping my promise to look after you. Now that you are back from leave, I have a duty to keep you safe.’

  Natal
ie smiled. ‘Ja-nee.’ Then she shook her head. ‘That promise has been more than kept. Can’t believe you finished that whole steak platter. You sure you’re still able to run fast enough to protect my back if I need it this afternoon?’

  ‘I could always run faster and for longer than you could, but maybe not right this minute. Give me at least ten minutes to digest a bit of it first, or I will get a cramp. Perhaps we should visit the gym and see just who has got flabby or not?’

  ‘Nice try. And don’t you know it’s not polite to say things like that to a lady?’

  ‘Ja, you are right. But seriously, I know we can solve this one.’

  ‘You sure you’re up to it? He was your friend,’ Natalie said.

  ‘All the more reason to find his killer, then,’ Piet said. ‘Get him the justice he deserves.’

  ‘Right, let’s get to it,’ Natalie said.

  ‘Idle minds lose brain cells sitting stagnant or some such bullshit about time—is that not how the saying goes?’ Piet asked.

  ‘Time is something I fear those men in the hijackings ran out of long ago,’ Natalie said.

  ‘Might be so, but at least we have bodies for those dead men. It’s a great place to start. Dead bodies tell their secrets to the right coroner.’

  CHAPTER

  8

  Kamfers Dam, Kimberley

  The call of the flamingos filled the African bushveld, their pink bodies silhouetted against the inky-blue sky of the low dawn light, just as the earth welcomed back the sun touching its horizon far in the east. They flew in a large flock to where the Nama Karoo met the grasslands of the Kalahari Savanna. Be it a memory or a natural pull deep inside their bodies, they knew that here there was water they could use to rest. This place was just one small part of the great central South African Highveld Salt Pans system that they used to connect their long journey between their winter feeding areas near the ocean and the summer breeding grounds inland.

  Although she’d matured when she was four and had other chicks, Amahle didn’t breed every year, but she knew that this would be her time once more. She descended from the higher atmosphere. As the sunlight kissed the earth and shed rose-gold light across the water below, she saw the island.