by T. M. Clark
The old lady took the takeaway beverage and sipped. ‘Thank you. That is very thoughtful of you, but you cannot attend the funeral or the wake, which she will have for her child, because that will be in Alexandra and you should not go there. Perhaps next Tuesday you can give her an envelope with a little money in it to help towards the cost of the funeral and the wake afterwards. It can be very expensive when someone in the family dies.’
‘I’ll do that. And don’t worry—I’ll not be venturing into Alexandra. Ulwazi already told me never to go into that township even if I have somebody with me.’
The old lady took another sip from the cup. ‘This is very nice coffee. Ulwazi is very lucky to have you come and sit on her bench every week.’
‘I’m lucky to have her to talk to,’ Anaya said. ‘If you will excuse me—I’ve got shopping I need to do. Thank you for letting me know about Ulwazi. I do appreciate it.’ She got up from the bench and left the old lady sitting there. As she walked away, she could feel that the woman stared at her departing back, watching her every move.
She wondered why when Ulwazi was on the bench she never felt as if she was being spied on but she did when she spoke to her stand-in.
CHAPTER
33
Ulwazi sat at her table in the shebeen. Tears ran freely down her face. This was the wake for her last remaining son, Kagiso, her firstborn.
Her son was never going to walk through the door again, with a different woman on each of his arms. He was never going to be there to help her with her business either, to help her keep a low profile, despite being so busy. She still remembered the day that she gave birth to him and had known that she would never be alone in the world again because now she had her own baby, a son to be proud of and to love. And to have him love her in return, as a son should.
He’d been shot by the police in Kimberley.
In days gone by, she might have taken to the streets with a placard and demonstrated against the police, but those days were long gone, and there was no way now that she could draw attention to herself. She’d sent him to carry out the removal herself because she trusted him to get the job done.
Now he was dead—and the doctor still lived.
Sometimes his job was viewed as dangerous. But her son had been good at it. He lived for the risk and the thrill. It was the only job he’d ever excelled in. Killing.
Warrant Officer Sithole sat opposite her. He passed her two envelopes. ‘I’m sorry for your loss, Ulwazi. I know how precious your son was to you.’
‘Thank you. What is the second envelope?’
‘The information you wanted on his shooting. I urge you not to take revenge when you see this police report.’
Ulwazi took the envelopes, folded them and put them safely inside her bra. ‘I will not look now because it is my Kagiso’s feast. But know that I will have my revenge. He was my son. I am Ulwazi, the head of the Dubazane family. If I do nothing, the people will not come to me for weapons or information anymore. People will not trust me to do things. It is my obligation to kill whoever shot my beautiful son.’
‘This will not be easy. You are going against the police force; you know what happens when you become a cop killer? They hunt you, and they kill you.’
‘I believe it was a very smart man that once said something to the effect of: “Unless you help find a solution, you perhaps are part of the problem.” Sithole, either help me, or you get up from the table and walk away. Forever. You are only getting this pass because it is my son’s burial feast.’
‘Know for true that I am not turning on you, Ulwazi. I have always looked up to you. I have always helped you to cover your tracks when things have not gone right, and when things have gone right, I have helped you celebrate, and been the one to sign the files. I am in deep with you. I cannot walk away. We are business partners. We need each other to ensure that we can make money. Why was it so important that your son went all the way to Kimberley to try to kill the doctor?’
‘She is stealing the secrets of the San community of Platfontein and publishing them in a book.’
‘And? You are not a San, so why should you care?’
‘A man from Ayurprabhu Pharmaceuticals cares about it. He says that he can make more money off those drugs than the San would ever get from the sale of a stupid book, and he will give me an ongoing share if I make this problem go away. No doctor. No book. Problem out of the way.’
‘You accepted the contract.’
‘I did.’
‘But you know that covering up the last foreign doctor’s death was difficult enough. Now you sent your son to a district where I have no power, no jurisdiction. I cannot meddle in Kimberley police cases and files. Even my captain would turn away from that.’
‘It was foolish for him to try to kill her there, and not bring her nearer to Johannesburg first. I see that now.’
‘Now is too late. The police can get to you through your son. They can get to me through you. Let me complete this contract for you, but in my own way. No more killing foreign doctors.’
‘You think that you can finish what my son could not?’ Ulwazi said.
‘Why kill her if you only want the book?’ Sithole asked.
‘The contract was for her death so that she cannot make another book.’
Sithole sat in his chair. ‘But she will leave anyway when she is finished her work here? In the police file it says that they have almost completed their work, and then she will go back to Australia. What if you had the book? You can auction it off to any of the pharmaceutical companies, and you could get more money than just from the Ayurprabhu man.’
‘But then I will have broken a contract.’
‘What exactly was the contract for?’
‘The life of Dr Lily Winters.’
‘See, that man from the pharmaceutical company is not clever. No. If you kill her, the book will still be there on her computer and in print. Another doctor will come and take her place, as she did already when you killed Dr Hawthorne. If you make sure she’s finished writing the book, then you get the book yourself, instead of him, there is more power in that. You’ll have the book. Knowledge. She’ll go away to a different country. It’s as good as disappearing under the earth. When she’s flown back to Australia, you can then have the auction of the book and sell it to the highest bidder.’
Ulwazi was still for a moment. ‘I see what you are thinking. Yebo, this is a good idea. I can have everything my way. Getting the book or her computer was not part of the contract. And when she leaves, she is as good as dead because she is so far away, no one from Africa can get to her. You are a clever policeman sometimes, Sithole. I hope that the people in your department never find out how clever you are.’
Sithole smiled.
‘Once again, I know who my friends are, and who will stick behind me and keep me out in the shadows where nobody can find me. You can organise to get me the book. Now, this conversation is over. Today I drink beer, and I celebrate the life of my son. Although he never gave me children, at least I still have my two grandsons, and I have my great-grandchildren from them. I am not alone. I am Ulwazi Dubazane, and I’ve earned my place in Alexandra.’ She took a swig of her beer and she put it back down. ‘Where is my sister-but-one?’
‘I have arrived, my sister,’ Bessie said. ‘I am sorry, but the train from Kimberley was late getting to Jo’burg, but I’m here, with you in your sorrow today.’
‘Does not matter that you were late. You came to support your family.’ She hugged her, then stepped back. ‘Now we can eat. Where is that calf that they have been braaing the whole day? I am starving, and I am ready to feast with lots of salt in honour of my son’s passing.’
CHAPTER
34
Lily hit another pothole in the road and had to correct her steering as she swerved to the left.
‘Slow down,’ Khanyi said to her, ‘you should not be speeding on this road. You could hit a buck or worse, a child.’
‘Believe
it or not, I’m going the speed limit. It’s the limit that’s too high for the state of the road.’ She eased off a little on the accelerator. ‘You have a point though, and I guess everyone will still wait for me. I just hate being late.’
‘That they will. They love your clinic time here,’ Michael said from the back seat.
She looked in the rear-view mirror and saw Michael smile.
A grey lourie flew low in the road, and she slowed to avoid it. ‘Lots of morning traffic on the Platfontein road today,’ she said. This road was never busy. She drove past the school towards the clinic. ‘It’s really dry again; we could do with some more rain. Look at how the crops are drooping.’
Neither of her guards responded; there was nothing to say. They would feel the heat the moment she opened the door and they were out of the air-conditioned car.
She watched as women and children came out from underneath the ‘waiting room’: the shade cloth that she had bought and insisted that Piet and the men put up outside the clinic, and the benches that they had made of heavy wooden sleepers and cemented into the ground, so they wouldn’t be stolen in the night. They went to stand where they had left their shoes, keeping their place in the line. ‘Look at that, a long line of women as always,’ she said. ‘I wonder how many of the men see Piet when he’s here? I really should ask him.’
‘Probably the same, only they sneak into his place and are not so open about seeing a doctor as the women. Some men are very private about things that need doctors,’ Michael said.
Lily smiled as she climbed out of the car. Already her two helpers, Coti and her sister, had the door at the back open, and all the containers of supplies were being passed along a human chain to be put inside the little room at the clinic.
Lily could hear the excitement of the small crowd, that the doctor was there and they would soon be seen. The kids seemed to scream a little louder.
‘Good morning, Dokotela Lily,’ Coti said.
‘How’re you feeling?’ Lily asked.
‘Good. I am still taking the medications. I am feeling much better,’ Coti said.
Lily nodded. A few months ago, Coti had pretended not to know English to avoid talking to Lily because she didn’t know her. Now she spoke it to her all the time. It was as if Lily curing her meningitis had opened a door onto the community. ‘Just keep taking it. Thank you for organising all the supplies.’
She noticed that both Michael and Khanyi had sat away from the door, but close enough that they would be with her should she need them. The women of Platfontein sort of looked at the security detail as their protectors, too.
‘Right, a quick wipe down with the sterilised wipes, then we can begin the clinic, Coti,’ Lily said.
Soon they were ready. And the morning flew past until Elise walked in, helped by another woman that Lily had not met yet.
Lily felt like she was back in Zam Zam, only this time it wasn’t hunger and violence that was sucking the life out of people as she watched. It was AIDS. Elise had lost a lot of weight, fast. Her shoulder bones stuck out cruelly and her T-shirt slipped from her scrawny shoulders. While she still had her hair done neatly, her head seemed too big for her body.
‘Elise, why didn’t you ask Piet to get me here sooner? You didn’t have to wait,’ Lily said.
‘I was not here. I was in the big city. As soon as you took David and Diamond, I went to Johannesburg to see if I could make better money for them for when I die. I ran out of my drugs while I was there.’
‘They have government clinics in Johannesburg,’ Lily said.
‘Yes, but I couldn’t get a job; it was a lie. Johannesburg, the city of gold, is a terrible place. I had to watch my money and make sure I had enough to come home. It was a mistake to leave Platfontein. The new South Africa is worse in the big city.’
‘When did you get back?’
‘Yesterday. I need more pills, Dokotela Lily, and I need you to make sure that David and Diamond are safe. I thought the pills would stop this happening. I never understood that if I stopped them, even for a month, that it would eat my body like this.’
Emotion choked in Lily’s chest, threatening to rise up. ‘Elise, your HIV looks like it has become full-blown AIDS. You’re very ill.’
‘I do not want to go to hospital and die in a bed where lots of other people just like me died before. I want to die free. Where I know that people look after each other. Where I know that you and Piet will make sure that my brother and sister are looked after and are not put into an orphanage. That they will have a better life than I did.’
‘I don’t have the authority to promise you that, Elise, but I will do everything I can to help Piet do what is best for your brother and sister.’
Elise began coughing, and while she stood next to her, patting her back gently, Lily could see that it pained the girl’s lungs to take the bigger breaths necessary for the cough.
‘Elise, what if you come to live at my place? David and Diamond can then spend more time with you, and you don’t have to look after them. Bessie is doing a good job on that front. We have a little house there that Piet uses, but I’m sure that he won’t mind you living in it for a while. I can get someone to come in and help you, too, a friend if you have one you want close by. I take it David hasn’t seen you, or he would have said something to me about the amount of weight you have lost.’
‘I would like that,’ Elise said. ‘To see him and Diamond happy, playing. It will make my passing easier.’
‘Enough about passing, you had a setback, that is all. We can get some food into you, and we need to get your CD4 numbers back up. Don’t give up just yet. Your family don’t want you to leave them. There are other remedies to take the pain away, too; promise me if you come to live there, that you’ll concentrate on getting better, not only for David and Diamond, but also for yourself.’
* * *
Lily hated grocery shopping. But she wanted to make Quintin a special anniversary dinner, so to surprise him she needed to go to the shops. Khanyi walked beside her as always, but Natalie had decided to grab a few groceries herself and had put them in Lily’s trolley so that she wasn’t hampered by anything while they walked around the shop.
They paid for their purchases and walked out of Checkers.
‘You ready for your big anniversary dinner cook-up?’ Natalie asked. ‘The evening is—’
The shots came out of nowhere.
Lily felt pain and heat as something too familiar tore through her leg. The agony ripped through her flesh for only a moment as she heard Khanyi shout, ‘Down!’ and he pushed both of them to the pavement.
Duck and cover. Get to safety. The training that Khanyi had been doing with her kicked in, and she rolled up into a ball as tightly as she could. She could feel his body over hers. The shots continued, coming from different directions. One hit the pavement near her head.
‘We need to get under cover,’ Natalie said.
Lily tried to get to her knees to crawl away, but only one of her legs would cooperate. More shots rang out.
‘Shit, I’m hit,’ Natalie cursed. She had her weapon out and was returning fire towards the two taxis shooting at each other.
‘Where?’ Khanyi asked.
‘Shoulder. I’ll be fine.’ A bullet hit the steel pipe behind them, and shrapnel exploded around.
‘They are definitely shooting at us,’ Natalie said, getting her phone out and quickly dialling a number. ‘Piet, we’re under heavy fire in the parking lot at Checkers. Two taxis. Come quick.’
‘Come on; we don’t need to stay around and be shot at more. I’ll cover you while you get under cover,’ Khanyi said.
‘No, you go first. Lily can’t run, she took a shot in the leg. Carry her, get her out of here. Looks like a taxi war across the parking lot is picking up!’ Natalie was shouting as she was returning fire.
People were screaming and running everywhere, the gunshots reverberating all around them.
‘Ready, Lily. On my three. One.
Two. Three,’ Khanyi said as he half lifted Lily by her middle like a sack of potatoes to run while keeping low.
The war came to them.
Multiple shots could be heard, only this time instead of the ting as the bullet hit the concrete and ricocheted away, there were hollow thwacks as bullets sank deep into flesh.
Lily waited for the familiar burn of the bullet. But there was nothing.
He half threw her, half dropped her. She crashed on the concrete pavement, her head skipping like a stone across water on the hard surface, until she came to a stop, crumpled against the wall. ‘Khanyi, you okay?’ Lily asked.
Khanyi landed heavily on top of her.
From his weight, she knew that this time he was not trying to shield her.
He’d taken the shots.
‘Khanyi!’ she shouted. ‘Natalie!’
Neither of them answered.
CHAPTER
35
Ulwazi watched the television news in the shebeen.
‘Detective Natalie Hatch died in hospital today, after being wounded in a drive-by shooting in Kimberley last week. It is with great sadness that she becomes yet another victim of taxi violence which has spilled out onto the streets of Kimberley, Upington and across the Cape Province this Christmas season. The Taxi Association is blaming the latest violence outbreak on …’
‘A fitting reward. She was no hero. Just because she has a badge did not mean that she was allowed to shoot my son in cold blood. Nobody stands up on TV and says that my son was shot by this hero. She gets away with murder because she wears police clothes,’ Ulwazi said.
Sithole shook his head. ‘Ulwazi, what have you done?’
‘I am innocent. That was the taxi wars. They should have happened before. When she shot my son.’
‘No, Ulwazi, this is one of your worst mistakes ever,’ Sithole said. ‘The man who is this woman’s best friend is like a bloodhound. He will come looking for you. He will not stop. This man will get us even if he has to wait for his whole life. He is a patient but deadly policeman. I know this Detective Piet Kleinman, what he is capable of. He was part of a team who put a lot of powerful men away a few years ago in a gang-rape case that should never have gone to court. He has influential friends. Friends who know people. Ones who can operate on South African soil and have more teeth than the whole South African police force. He will come after you. Come after us. He will find out what you did, and he will not stop until you are behind bars.’