The Jason Green series Box Set

by Gordon Wallis

  “Right sir you must proceed straight to gate 12 upstairs. Your flight is about to board.”

  “Thanks,” I said as I packed away my ticket and passport.

  Johannesburg Airport was a far cry from the sleepy place I remembered from twenty five years previous. When I got upstairs to my gate, the crowd was already moving through towards the lounge. The small jet was parked on the runway outside. I marvelled at the huge expanse of blue sky as I gazed out at the activity outside. Eventually we were ushered into the gangway to the waiting aircraft. The interior of the plane was narrow and cramped compared to the luxury of the first class cabin I had just been in. Still, it was only a two hour flight and then I would be free.

  I found my seat, packed my bag away and sat down. I was hungry having missed breakfast on the previous flight. After fifteen minutes the plane started taxiing down the runway. I retrieved the file on Richard from my bag in the overhead compartment and busied myself reading it. It was a useful one and a half hours as there was a lot of the file I hadn't read. Richard’s father had been methodical and ruthless in compiling it. It was obvious he was extremely concerned by his son’s activity. I still couldn't quite believe I was flying over Southern Africa on my way to Cape Town. It was bright in the packed cabin. I wore my sunglasses as I read. Gareth Lewer-Allen surely had more money than sense sending me on holiday following his son but, as I had decided the previous day, it was fine by me. As we began our descent, the massive orchards of Stellenbosch were spread out below me. It was a glorious sight. Endless rows of vineyards and fruit surrounded by majestic mountains bathed in warm sunshine. On the final leg of the descent I caught my first glimpse of Table Mountain. It was as stunning as it had been in the pictures I had seen all my life. The city nestled below, between the foot of the great flat behemoth and the sea. It was breathtaking. As the plane came down to land, I had to force myself to concentrate on the task at hand. I would need to hire a car and find a place from which I could follow Richard once he arrived. This was another unknown. I knew where he was staying, but it would be unprofessional to proceed straight to his address. I might miss something and I would kick myself if I did.

  The plane landed and taxied towards the airport building. I made myself ready for a rushed hour or so ahead. There was a queue of people in front of me by the time the doors opened and we slowly made our way out into the sunshine.

  There was a waiting bus and I chose a seat which would ensure I got out quickly into the airport building. Being a domestic flight, there were no immigration procedures. I would have to wait for my bag but being one of the last to check in I hoped that my bag would be one of the first out. I made my way into the airport building. It was full of advertising boasting Cape Town’s attractions. I made my way to the baggage reclaim and waited impatiently for my bag to appear through the rubber flaps. As expected it was one of the first to appear. I had made good time. The south African airways flight that Richard was on had not arrived yet.

  The arrivals hall was full of the sun-tanned and beautiful people of Cape Town. I made my way quickly to the Hertz counter to arrange a vehicle. The procedure was quick and efficient. I hired a Mercedes 280. After ten minutes, I was escorted to the parking bay. Although a lot smaller than the airport in Johannesburg, Cape Town airport was busy with traffic and taxis. The parking bay was away from the main building to the left in a fenced off area. There was an armed security guard. The Hertz lady led me to the Mercedes. It was a new model, sleek, cream in colour with a sunroof. She handed me the keys and wished me a pleasant stay in Cape Town. I slung my bags into the back and sat down in the driver’s seat. A map of Cape Town appeared on the sat-nav showing my location at the airport. Good. I lit a cigarette as I checked my phone. It showed Vodacom with full signal. I was ready for Cape Town. It was then I noticed the guard at the gate watching me. There was only one Land Cruiser in the yard so I had to assume it would be the one Richard was booked to hire. I pulled a pen out of my bag and made a note of the licence plate number. I decided I would pull out of the Hertz bay, try to find a parking close by and wait for Richard. There was a lot of free space as we were fairly far from the main building. I couldn’t see any problem.

  The automatic Mercedes started first time and I glided out of the bay past the waving guard. I found a parking spot a hundred metres from the bay. It was right on the path I had taken. I assumed Richard would take the same walk as I had. I reversed into the parking space to give me a clear view of anyone walking past. It would be easy to follow any car coming and was a perfect vantage point. I sat back feeling pleased with myself and took a deep drag of the cigarette. My back was sweating lightly on the leather seat. It dawned on me that I was parked in a Mercedes in Cape Town in full sunshine and warmth. The freezing wet misery of London in February was thousands of miles away.

  A LARGE SOUTH AFRICAN Airways plane was landing on the runway to my right. I glanced at my watch. It was definitely Richard's flight. I could expect him to walk right past me in half an hour or so. I opened the sunroof and leant my head back on the headrest. I felt the warm glow of the African sun on my face. I closed my eyes and let it sink in.

  It had been too long. Way too long.

  Chapter Eight - Cape Town

  I spent the next half an hour waiting for Richard to appear. On my second cigarette he did. He walked past, completely oblivious to my presence. My heart was beating faster. He wore designer jeans and a bright cotton shirt. A picture of wealth and easy-going freedom as he casually pulled his luggage behind him and chatted to the Hertz lady. He would be out in a matter of minutes. The Land Cruiser pulled out of the parking area and drove past me. Richard's eyes were straight ahead. He was talking on his cell phone. The Mercedes pulled out smoothly and we entered the traffic heading towards the airport exit. Eventually we entered onto what I imagined was the main highway to the city. There were billboards to the left and the right. The Land Cruiser sped ahead and entered the fast lane. I was pleased I had chosen the Mercedes for its power and speed. I would have no problem keeping up with Richard. I was feeling tense. It was obvious Richard knew exactly where he was going and I didn't have a fucking clue. I was desperate not to lose him. There was a Volvo in between us, but the Land Cruiser was high enough for me not to lose sight of him. We drove through a low income township area. It stretched for miles on either side of the highway. I remembered the previous day I had been reading online about Cape Town. It was the Khayelitsha township and a notorious piece of road called ‘the hell run’ by locals. I knew Cape Town and South Africa were notorious for violent crime. I wasn't worried about it but I reminded myself to be on guard all the same. Eventually we entered the outskirts of Cape Town city. I caught a glimpse of the sea and the port through the high-rise buildings. Everything appeared bright and clean. Richard kept to the right hand lane and powered on past the city to the left. The magnificent Table Mountain rose above me to the right. I couldn't help the occasional glance as we drove but I forced myself to keep my eyes locked onto the grey Land Cruiser.

  Up ahead of us was a traffic light. Richard was approaching when the light went amber. My heart jumped as I realised that he might drive through it. The Volvo man in between us, being a Volvo man, would definitely stop and I would lose Richard. Thankfully the Land Cruiser stopped at the light and I breathed a sigh of relief. As we waited for the lights to change, I glanced at the sat-nav. To my right was the Cape Town University with its grand staircase in the sun. To my left was a built up area. The sat-nav told me that we were travelling down the main road to Simon’s Town. Richard was heading to his guest house after all and I needn't have worried about going through the stress of following him through this unfamiliar city. Still, it was the job and I wasn't complaining. We carried on after the lights changed and I noticed the areas to the left and right were more affluent. The gardens were bigger and the shops seemed cleaner.

  We drove through an area called Constantia. I had read about it the previous day and had learned that it
was one of the best residential areas of Cape Town. The rolling green lawns of the massive estates were testimony to that. Eventually the road became narrower and drew closer to the sea which was rough and crashing into the rocks to the left. It was clear why Richard liked Cape Town. After ten minutes the Volvo disappeared and I was behind the Land Cruiser. Richard was obviously listening to music. I could see his fingers tapping on the thick steering wheel. The traffic started building up again and three cars came in between us through a filter lane. This was a situation I was hoping to avoid. The sat-nav told me we were now in Muizenberg. There was a huge golden beach stretching out to my left. As we reached the the centre of Muizenberg, I lost sight of the Land Cruiser. To add insult to injury a large tipper truck pulled out in front of me from the left. I was certain I had now lost him. Cursing loudly I pulled the Mercedes into a service station to the left. The traffic was so heavy now and the road so narrow it would be impossible to follow anyone who had got ahead.

  Frustrated, I lit a cigarette and entered the address of Richard’s accommodation to the sat-nav. The Blueberry Guest House, 45 Walker Road, Kalk Bay.

  “Go straight for three kilometres, then turn right,” the automated voice said.

  Obediently I pulled out of the service station and continued down the main road through the traffic. Eventually as we cleared Muizenberg the traffic calmed and once again I marvelled at the beauty of Cape Town. I approached the quaint and picturesque fishing village of Kalk Bay. There were numerous antique and book shops on either side of the road. On my left a train passed me not twenty metres from the sea. All around were relaxed-looking people ambling, eating ice cream and browsing craft stalls.

  “Turn right in one hundred metres,” said the voice from the sat-nav.

  As instructed I turned and made my way up a steep hill past multi coloured houses on either side, the massive Table Mountain towered above me.

  “After two hundred metres, turn left,” came the voice again.

  After winding steeply up the narrow street I turned left at a stop street. There was a sign on my left which said Walker Street. I knew I was close to Richard’s guest house. I prayed that he would be there. If not, there would be an anxious wait until he arrived and there would be more unknowns.

  My instructions were to watch him like a hawk and I fully intended to do that to the best of my abilities. Above me to my right was a high mountain road. Already from where I was I could see the most incredible views of Kalk Bay between the houses to my left. Anxiously I drove on until I heard the words,

  “You have reached your destination.”

  My eyes darted around the street for the Land Cruiser. To my relief I saw it parked under a tree to my left and recognised the number plate. I pulled the Mercedes over into a parking space fifty metres ahead of it and sat watching through the rear view mirror. Richard was nowhere in sight and had obviously gone into the guest house to check in. I now had to make some decisions as to what to do. I could quite easily wait it out until he left and follow, or I could place a tracking device in the Land Cruiser and move off to my digs. I decided to relax for a while, have a cigarette and think it through. I was relieved that I had found him after losing him, so half an hour or so wouldn't kill me.

  I noticed a young white couple walking towards me in the distance. They were obviously tourists, taking photographs and talking. Very few cars were travelling on the street. The majority of the traffic was on the more scenic road above me to my right. I pulled out the red file on Richard to use as a diversion for when they got to the car. I didn't want to look suspicious in any way. A man sitting in a car supposedly catching up with some work wouldn't ring any alarm bells. After ten minutes the couple had passed me and were ambling back towards the Land Cruiser. I decided I would do the same. I pulled out my camera, slung it around my neck and checked in the rear view mirror. All was quiet outside the Blueberry Guest House. No sign of Richard. It was an opportunity I couldn't miss. I dug in my bag and retrieved one of the tiny Japanese tracking devices. I inserted a fresh battery and the red light flashed indicating it was good to go. I closed the sunroof of the car, placed my bags in the boot for security, locked up and started down the street towards Richard's car. Every now and then I stopped and pretended to take photographs of the views to my left and right. Thirty metres before I reached the car I noticed a domestic worker in a tiny garden to the left. He was clipping a hedge.

  “How are you sir?” he asked.

  “I'm fine thanks how are you?”

  It was a typical exchange of greetings in Africa which brought back memories for me. He appeared totally at ease and carried on with his work as I walked. I decided that I would place the tracking device on my return journey back down the street. It would be a good idea to have a look at the entrance to The Blueberry first and get some distance between myself and the worker. As I reached the Land Cruiser I caught my first glimpse of Richard's guest house. There was a white picket fence with a small brick driveway. The garden was obviously a source of pride to the owners and was full of exotic palms, tree ferns and bright orange bird of paradise flowers. On the gate was a small sign with the words The Blueberry Guest House, welcome. It was painted bright blue like the sky above me. There was no one in sight. I walked past and continued towards the crossroads.

  On arrival at the stop street, I took a moment to marvel at the spectacular sight far below me. The harbour was full of multi-coloured fishing boats bobbing and rocking in the rough sea and a long pier stretched out into the ocean. Kalk Bay had a relaxed and bohemian feel to it. I understood why Richard favoured it. I lit another cigarette, and started back towards the Land Cruiser. My plan was to place the tracking device in the front left wheel arch as I had in the Aston Martin. I would have to be quick. It would be a disaster if someone was to suddenly walk out of the front door of the guest house and see me. All was quiet as I approached except for the noise of the traffic on the scenic road above. My right hand was in my pocket clutching the magnetised device as I passed the white wooden gate to Richard's digs. It was now or never and I decided to go for it. My hand came out holding the device. The wheel arch was particularly high on the 4x4 vehicle. This made it easy. Quickly and without stopping I slipped it under and heard the reassuring clunk of the magnet land on the metal of the wheel arch. I carried on un-noticed and smiled to myself as I walked towards the Mercedes. It had been another success. Once again, there was nowhere for Richard to hide.

  As I got into the hire car, I opened the sun-roof and pulled my laptop from my smaller bag. The battery was low, so I attached it to the car lighter to charge it. It took some minutes to load the settings for the tracking page but eventually I got it all working. I was online and the tracker was showing Richard's car with the usual flashing blue light not fifty metres from where I was parked. Success. I glanced at my watch. It was 3pm and the sun still shone bright above me.

  What a fucking pleasure, I thought as I gazed into the rear view mirror. I was pretty much sorted for the day. I decided I would drive to my guest house and check in. I needed to have a shower and get a change of clothes. I typed the address of Binkie's Guest House into the sat-nav.

  “Go straight for three hundred metres and turn left,” was the instruction. I started the car and moved down the street away from The Blueberry. There was another stop street similar to the one I had come up on. It lead back down to the main road of Kalk Bay.

  “Go straight for fifty metres and turn left,” came the voice. As I turned left into the narrow street the voice announced,

  “You have reached your destination.” I stopped the car and found the sign on my immediate right. Binkie's Guest House, parking inside. I drove onto the stone driveway. The old building was a bit ramshackle. It was obviously in need of a paint job and the tiny garden was overgrown. I got out the car, locked up and knocked on a red wooden door with peeling paint. There was a shuffling noise from inside and after a few seconds the door was opened by a tall man dressed in long blue sh
orts, slops and a faded orange tee-shirt. He had a deep suntan, long curly hair and slightly bloodshot eyes.

  “Hi there, are you Mr Green?” he said with a smile.

  “Yup, that’s me,” I said.

  He immediately offered his hand, which I shook.

  “My name is Binks, welcome. Did you find the place ok?”

  “Yup no problem at all.”

  “Well come in please, let me show you your room,” he said.

  It was an old colonial building with wooden floors and pressed lead ceilings. There were threadbare armchairs and old oil paintings, but the place looked spotlessly clean. He led me onto a verandah under an old tin roof which lead around the left hand side of the house to the front. There were easy chairs placed randomly about for guests to relax on. We paused and took in the view. Overhead there were seagulls squalling in the breeze. Below was more overgrown garden with a pathway that led down to the main road and the harbour below.

  “Great view,” I said.

  “Yup, it’s not bad at all,” he replied with a smile.

  I was warming to the place.

  “I've put you in room number two, here's the door,” he said grappling with a bunch of ancient looking keys.

  The room had the same wooden floors and high ceilings. It was painted white and had a large double bed, two armchairs, a dressing table, and two huge bay windows looking out onto the ocean.

  “This will do just fine, thanks very much,” I said approvingly.

  The place had an old world colonial charm and was obviously well looked after.

  “Excellent, can I help you with your bags?” He asked handing me the key.