The African Diamond Trilogy Box Set

by Christopher Lowery

  “That’s right, Jacob. I’m taking you to a secret place just along the road. It’s where I keep my bonus cash. I don’t take risks with it. It’s for special services like the job you did for us. Then I’ll drive you back to your house, or wherever you want to go. You’re going to have the best day of your life, I promise you. You’ll never have a better one.” He smiled grimly at his own sense of humour.

  Masuku settled back in his seat, luxuriating in the soft upholstery. “I knew you’d look after old Jacob,” he said. “I told the wife, ‘that policeman, he gonna’ look after me, ‘cos he know I seen the kid was drugged. He know Jacob’s no idjit ‘cos I don’t say nothing ‘bout it’. I told her it ain’t my business where you take that kid. Jacob just wants his bonus.”

  “Where do you live, Jacob? Is it around here?”

  “It ain’t too far ‘way. Robertville, off of Main Reef Road. You been there?”

  Nwosu said nothing. He listened to the guard babble on as they passed the Libanon Gold Mine, about thirty kilometres from Diepkloof. He continued on Route 501 until he reached a farm track going north. They passed an old disused sand quarry on their left, with a dilapidated warehouse and a large pond in front of it and Nwosu pulled off the track beside the warehouse.

  Masuku was starting to become nervous, “What we doin’ here, boss? What’s this place? Jacob don’t likes the look of this place.”

  “This is where I keep my special bonus money, Jacob. I promised you your reward and you’re going to get it. Trust me.”

  Reluctantly, the little guard got out of the car and followed Nwosu to the door of the warehouse. The policeman took out a key and unlocked the padlock on the door. He walked in, Masuku following nervously behind. The building was high and large, with a concrete floor and bags of cement and sand still stacked against one of the walls. An office, built from breeze blocks, the windows no longer in place, stood in the corner and Nwosu led the other man across to it. The place was cold, the flimsy construction and missing windows providing no insulation from the weather.

  Masuku looked into the sparsely equipped office. There was a pile of plastic sheets, a large knife, some tools, lengths of steel wire and a coil of rope on the floor. On the desk were rolls of plastic tape and rubber gloves, a bottle of clear liquid. “I don’t like this place, boss. Jacob gotta be headin’ home now. We just forget ‘bout the bonus. I didn’t see nothin’, I was just pertendin’. I don’t want no bonus. Just take Jacob home now, boss. Please.”

  Nwosu smiled his charming smile, “I just want to know one thing before you get your bonus, Jacob. Have you told anyone else about what you saw in the stadium?”

  Masuku was sweating profusely, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. “I never said nothin’ boss, like I told you. I ain’t talk with nobody ‘cept the wife. Anyways, like I said, I ain’t seen nothin’, so there’s nothin’ to tell. Boss, I’m sorry I made up that story.” his voice began to shake, tears came to his eyes and he looked frantically at the door. “I just want to get a little bonus so I could take her ‘way for a couple days. But it don’t matter. We just forget it and you let Jacob go now. I can walk back, don’t need a lift in your nice motor car. Just you let me go, boss, and we forget this whole thing.”

  “That’s not possible, Jacob. It’s just too risky.” Nwosu took his Vektor SP1 pistol from the holster on his belt.

  “Boss. Please boss! I promise I don’t gonna say nothin’.” Masuku lost control of his bladder and a dark patch appeared on the crotch of his jeans.

  The policeman pulled the trigger twice and blasted the little guard backwards onto the concrete floor outside the office. He lay completely still, a pool of blood appearing from beneath him and gradually surrounding his upper body. Nwosu leaned over to check the pulse in his neck. There was none.

  Sergeant Nwosu put on the rubber gloves from the office, went across to where the bags were stored and brought back a sack of cement in a wheelbarrow. He wheeled the cement over to a concrete step at the edge of the lake and dumped the sack onto the step. He then took a plastic sheet from the pile in the office and laid it alongside Masuku’s body. Scrupulously avoiding any contact with the blood, he rolled the corpse onto the plastic and wrapped it tightly around, fastening it with duct tape. Upper torso first, he loaded it onto the wheelbarrow, the feet sticking out over the end. He wheeled the body over to the step and dumped it beside the cement sack.

  Pushing the wheelbarrow over to the end of the warehouse, he returned with a large wooden box, which he placed on its side next to the dead man. He rolled the body into the box then manhandled it over, the open side up. Then he slit open the neck of the cement bag and poured the material into the box until it covered the corpse. With a hammer and nails from the office, he fastened down the lid of the box, tight. The lid had small holes punched into it, just enough to let a trickle of water enter, slowly but surely.

  Nwosu looked carefully around the warehouse and checked the interior of his car, then returned to the step. He pushed the box over the edge of the step, until gravity took it and it slid into the murky depths of the lake, committing Jacob Masuku’s soul to a concrete grave which would never be uncovered until the fifteen foot deep lake dried up or was emptied. He carefully put all of his tools and materials away then hosed down the floor of the warehouse. The concrete would soon dry out and there would be no evidence of how the last day of Jacob Masuku’s life had ended. As Sergeant Nwosu had promised, ‘You’ll never have a better one’.

  Emma got back into her room after braving the remarks of sympathy and encouragement from the hotel staff in reception. She would have liked to think their support might be useful, but she doubted it. She didn’t know how wide Coetzee and Nwosu had spread their web and these people might be under their control. She was remembering Jenny’s admonishment, “Behave as if everyone you meet there is your enemy.”

  She took her mobile phone and the memory stick from her jacket pockets and laid them on the desk, then opened her laptop to check her emails. There was nothing urgent or special to reply to. Some fan mail asking about her next book and no message from Jenny, but it was only eleven forty-five, so she wouldn’t have arrived in Marbella yet. She inserted the memory stick to check that the clip had properly copied. The police station laptop was a Sony and hers was an Apple so she crossed her fingers that it was compatible. Thank heavens, it was just as clear and precise as the original. She didn’t watch the film again, it would make her too distressed, just saved it to the hard disk, filing it, after some conflicting emotions, under Pictures, Family, Leo’s SA Trip.

  Taking up her mobile, she found the photo she’d taken. The two men were easily identifiable and she wondered what problem had caused Coetzee to leave and Nwosu to meet the guard. Strange, it was important enough to interrupt my interview and get rid of me. She emailed the image to her laptop and saved it in the same folder as Leo’s clip, under Nwosu & Masuku July 12.

  Then she played back the morning’s conversations she’d recorded on the phone. The volume had been on maximum and the discussion could be clearly heard. She shivered again at the sound of the men’s’ voices lying to her and trying to find out about Leo’s father. Using the ‘Share’ feature, she emailed the recording to her laptop and filed it under SA Interview Nwosu & Coetzee July 12. She’d been in the station for less than half an hour, but a lot of that time had been spent waiting, so she edited the recording to about fifteen minutes of conversation.

  Next, she looked up the number of Diepkloof Police Station. It hadn’t occurred to her to call there last night. Using the same pretence, she asked about a missing boy. She used her mobile to record the conversation. She’d downloaded a special app to do this, but it wasn’t difficult. For the first time, she informed the operator of Leo’s name. But the answer was the same. Nobody in the station had ever heard of him.

  Emma rang off then replayed the recording. She sat back at the desk. It’s a conspiracy, she thought, I was right, it’s a conspiracy
and Leo is the victim. This is the final proof. Nwosu’s own police department knows nothing about the kidnapping because he and Coetzee organised it. That guard Masuku must be involved as well. God knows how many more people are involved. But why? She asked herself for the hundredth time. Why on earth would anyone want to abduct my son? Well, now I’ve got ample proof of what’s going on. I just need to find a way of using it. She emailed it to her laptop and saved it under Diepkloof Tel. July 12.

  Finally, Emma opened up Dropbox. She created a new folder, called Leo Stewart then went to ‘Share a Folder’ and entered Jenny’s email address. She dragged the file she’d prepared with the four items, the CCTV clip, the photo, and the recordings of the conversations in the police station and the telephone call, into the Leo Stewart folder in the Dropbox. Then she went downstairs to get something to eat. She was famished.

  It was sixteen hours since Leo had been taken.

  TWELVE

  Marbella, Spain

  I’ve shared some of my files or folders with you. To open them, just click the link(s) below. Jenny found this message when she looked at her laptop in the office in York House, in southern Spain. The house, with its several hectares of surrounding land, was located on the Las Manzanás Golf Course, near Marbella. It had been her father-in-law, Charlie Bishop’s house, which she’d inherited jointly with Leticia da Costa, a young Angolan woman who was the mother of Charlie’s son, Emilio.

  She opened up Dropbox and found the Leo Stewart folder. After studying the film clip and photo and listening to the recordings, she took her notebook and played everything through again as she typed her notes. Finally, she ran the film clip again, trying to see if there was something that stood out, something she may have missed on the first viewings. Hmm, that’s interesting. She ran it through three more times, stopping it in the same places each time and making more notes. Jenny closed down Dropbox and sat thinking for a while then she picked up the telephone and made several calls.

  It was three o’clock when she called her sister back on her mobile and Emma answered immediately. After a snack and a sleep, she was feeling more like her normal self, although her voice shook when she asked, “So, what’s the verdict, Jenny? Am I crazy, or has my son been abducted?”

  “You’re definitely not crazy and I’m sorry I doubted you. It seems too incredible to be true, but I’m convinced Leo’s been kidnapped and that Coetzee and Nwosu are involved. But what’s more important is I’m also convinced you’re in very grave danger and we’ve got to take immediate steps. We have very little time, so listen carefully and please don’t argue.”

  “Why don’t you Skype me? These calls are going to cost a fortune.”

  “It’s not a good idea and you mustn’t worry about the cost. Just listen and do what I tell you.” Jenny adopted her school teacher voice. “First, go and check outside your door and make sure there’s no one around. Do it now.”

  “There’s no one in sight,” her sister confirmed a few moments later.

  “Good, lock it and bolt it with the dead bolt and keep it that way.”

  “Now,” she continued, “go and sit as far from the door as possible, and speak quietly, so there’s no chance of anyone hearing. Have your laptop ready so you can look at something.”

  “Right.” Emma sat by the window, her laptop open on the bedside cabinet. “What’s this all about? You’re scaring me.”

  “Just taking precautions. You’ll see why in a moment. Now, first question. Who does Leo know in Johannesburg?”

  “No one at all. We’ve been here five days and apart from the staff in the hotel, we’ve never spoken to anybody except waiters and shop assistants. There was a shooting outside the hotel on our second day, so we’ve never even walked about outside, it’s far too dangerous. We’ve taken the bus and a couple of taxi rides to see one or two attractions and then the coach to the football match. But I don’t see what all that’s got to do with his disappearance”

  “Think about it Emma. I’m sure whatever was done to Leo must have been done by someone he recognised. He’s too smart to let a stranger come up and stick a needle into him or do whatever it was to knock him out. So it must have been someone that he met at the hotel or somewhere else you’ve been. Someone he had confidence in. Now listen, I may have spotted something on the video clip. Play it again and tell me what you see.”

  “I’ll pull it up. What do I have to look for?”

  “There’s a man who’s in the picture at the beginning and then comes back into range at the end. See if you recognise him.”

  “Jenny, I’ve looked a thousand times and I haven’t seen anyone I recognise.”

  “Look at it again. First you see the corridor between the toilet and the exit. It’s exactly as you described, a huge crowd of people moving all over the place so you could hardly get through. And when you watched the clip you were looking only at Leo being pushed out, which is normal. It’s what you wanted to see, so you didn’t pay attention to the rest of the picture. If you look again carefully, you’ll see a man move into camera range behind the wheelchair. He follows it until it’s gone from sight and I think the guy pushing the chair actually turns to say something to him. Then he comes walking back from the exit again after Leo’s gone. You can’t make out his face because he’s wearing a baseball cap but you can see he’s got lots of curly black hair and a beard. He’s in a black bomber jackets with silver stripes across the upper arms.

  “It’s not obvious, because he’s underneath the camera and there are lots of people around him, but it’s definitely the same man. He goes out of sight when the wheelchair gets near the exit, but gets caught again when he comes back in. Just what he would do if he wanted to make sure that Leo was taken out successfully, except he doesn’t realise he’s come back into camera range.”

  “Ok. I’m watching it now. When do I see him?”

  “It’s just as the wheelchair is coming through. If you look at the bottom of the picture, on the left, you’ll see a great big black man in a red and blue shirt.”

  “I’ve got him.”

  “Next to him comes in the man in the baseball cap and it looks like the guy who’s pushing Leo out is talking to him.”

  “In the baseball cap and black jacket. I see him now. Oh my God, I don’t believe it!”

  “Do you recognise him?”

  “It looks like Barry Lambert, the hotel manager!” Emma glanced fearfully at the locked door. “So that’s why he’s been so friendly with us, especially with Leo. He offered to take him to Lion Park, but I put a damper on it. After the shootings in the street I didn’t want Leo out of my sight in a city like Joburg, so I made up an excuse. Leo was furious, but I got tickets for us to go there with a tour bus on Friday. It was a wonderful day out. He absolutely loved it,” she added sadly. “And I’ve just remembered, Lambert suggested taking us to the Gold Reef City amusement park tomorrow, for our last day here.”

  “Are you sure it’s him, this Barry Lambert?”

  “Let me run it through once more.” She reran the clip, her heart in her mouth. “I think it’s him. I can’t see his face properly under the cap but there can’t be two people like him with all that curly black hair and the beard.”

  “Then it must be him, it makes sense. He’s the only person that Leo might have trusted because he’s the manager of the hotel. And he has to be involved, otherwise he would have gone to help when he saw Leo in the wheelchair, but he did nothing. He and the other guy must have drugged Leo and stage managed this whole abduction.”

  “No, it’s not possible. I’ve just remembered, when Coetzee called the hotel last night, he spoke to Lambert. If he was at the hotel, he couldn’t have been at the stadium.”

  Jenny thought for a moment. “But it must have been at least an hour and a half after Leo was kidnapped that Coetzee spoke to him. He had ample time to get back and take the call. In fact, I bet that was a set up as well. Lambert has got himself an alibi if anything goes wrong, because Coetzee calle
d him at the hotel in front of you.”

  Emma reran the clip once more. “I want to see him come back into the picture. Wait, the wheelchair has gone out... there he is again.” He’s walking back now. I recognise him and the jacket from behind. You’re right, it can only be Lambert. He must have orchestrated the whole thing with the other man otherwise he’d have looked for me. He knew we were both there and he did nothing to help us.” She put her hand to her mouth, not believing what she’d seen

  After a few moments of silence, Jenny asked, “Are you OK?”

  “I was just trying to work out how they drugged Leo so quickly. I know there are some very fast acting knockout drugs, but they have to be injected to take immediate effect. They only had five minutes or so before I came out of the loo.”

  “They must have been waiting by the toilets, it’s logical, everybody goes at half time. Lambert sees you go into the ladies and knows you’ll be stuck there for a while. They follow Leo in, get chatting to him, jab a needle or something into his arm then hold him up so he doesn’t fall to the floor. The nurse comes in behind with the wheelchair and they cart Leo out. Job over in two minutes flat. Simple but effective.”

  “But Leo would have felt the jab. He’d have bashed him or called out or something. He wouldn’t have just let them inject him without a struggle.”

  “That’s why there were two of them. One of them must have held him from behind, hand over his mouth, so he couldn’t yell for help. There’s so many people milling about it wouldn’t even have been noticed. This was well planned and well executed. If it hadn’t been for that guard, Masuku, we might never have found out the truth about Lambert. He and Mr. X were the field agents and Coetzee and Nwosu are obviously involved at a higher level.”

  “And they probably originally intended to take Leo when Lambert invited him to Lion Park. Or,” Emma reasoned, “they would have another chance if we’d gone to Gold Reef City with him. That’s three alternative plans to make sure they got Leo.” She sat back in shock and fright, absorbing the implications of such a well-organised plan. This must have been set up before we even arrived in South Africa. And now I’m staying in a hotel with the man who organised the kidnapping of my son and the only two other people I know in South Africa are his accomplices. My God!”