The African Diamond Trilogy Box Set

by Christopher Lowery

  FIFTY

  Delmas, Mpumalanga, South Africa

  Sitting on the floor of the living room alongside her daughter, Karen reflected that the episode in Alexandra was the catalyst that started the inevitable breakdown of her marriage.

  That evening both she and Marius were in a sober mood. Although he was in a violent job she knew he didn’t enjoy the violence and never spoke about the incidents he dealt with on an all too regular basis. He wasn’t a man who shared his secrets or his life very easily. He had kissed and held her with relief after the gunmen had been disarmed, but had said no more about the matter when he returned home in the evening, apart from one remark.

  When she asked him what he had felt when he was holding the grenade, with everyone’s life in his hands, he laughed and said, “You didn’t think it was armed, did you? I’m not that crazy. That grenade is about twenty years old and it’s a bloody tricky little weapon. The fuse is only four seconds and the security grip is crap. It would probably have blown us all to kingdom come if it had been armed.”

  That was the night her nightmares began, recalling parts of the ordeal through her unconscious mind and senses, like scenes from a fragmented movie. The burst of gunfire out of nowhere, the dead bodies lying in a pool of blood in the corridor, the smell of sheer terror emanating from the hostages, the unbearable suspense of being at the mercy of a gang of bloodthirsty extremists. She relived the indescribably joyous feeling of confidence and relief at the sight of her husband, their rescuer and protector. Only to be assailed again by the sensations that returned to invade her senses, the stench of cordite, blood, urine and worse pervading her nostrils until she woke up feeling frightened and physically sick.

  Somehow she couldn’t separate Marius from these scenes of brutality. His insouciance in front of six armed murderers wasn’t normal. He had taken a gamble with seventeen innocent lives, including his wife’s and it had paid off, but what if he had been challenged? She realised that to him it was just another day in the life. That was what he did, perhaps that was what he was, deep down inside. She began to see her husband in a very different light. The terrorists hadn’t harmed her physically but they had triggered a change in her mental attitude. A change that would lead to many more important and not necessarily good events.

  The next morning Marius had to leave for Durban, to coordinate security measures in preparation of a signatory meeting for an international protocol on maritime terrorism, with the presence of many government leaders. He would be gone for several weeks. Karen called her boss at the Sun and obtained a month’s sick leave on compassionate grounds. He readily agreed, on one condition; the article she had written after being released had boosted sales and sparked off a TV campaign which they would benefit from for quite a while, now he wanted a series of follow-up articles which she could write from home.

  Karen accepted the assignment and over the next few weeks, she regularly drove out to Alexandra to visit Abigail at her aunt’s home, a tiny, crowded shack, where she and her two younger brothers were now staying, sharing a bedroom, a bed, a cot and the floor with their two cousins. She took them out for walks and drives, gently helping them to push away the memories of the awful episode they had suffered. When she saw that the children couldn’t yet cope with returning to school, she stayed in the evenings, tutoring them and coaxing them back to normality. She slept with Abby on the cot, alongside her brothers stretched out on a rug on the floor. After a while she started to bring the girl back to their flat in Kensington. It had a spare bedroom that they had always assumed would one day be occupied by their own child. Now it was sometimes Abby’s.

  Little by little, she was becoming the child Karen had never had, or rather had never had time to have. Coetzee had been twenty-seven and she twenty-five when they were married, still plenty of time to have kids, once she’d accomplished something worthwhile in her career. And she had accomplished a lot. She was now Senior Current Affairs journalist at the Sun, the largest daily newspaper in the Joburg area. A top job which gave her immense satisfaction, but at a price. Marius had never tried to persuade her to change her priorities, he respected her work and her success and was happy to see that she was happy. He had also been immensely successful in his army career. At age thirty-five he was promoted to Major in the Special Forces unit, requiring him to travel a lot, sometimes for weeks at a time. They were both immersed in their work but relished the time they could spend together when they were in Joburg for a while, quality time, just the two of them, happy and in love with the life they shared.

  Somehow the time slipped by as she kept putting off becoming pregnant another year, another promotion, another step up the ladder. Then suddenly she was forty and they were still childless and when she finally decided to let it happen, it wouldn’t. She had waited too long and her body clock had ticked away until it was no longer able to conceive a child. After two years of trying and then taking fertility drugs, she was still unable to conceive. She and Marius discussed in vitro fertilisation, but there had recently been a number of high profile ‘accidents’ involving such drugs, which Karen had actually reported on for her paper. For once, Coetzee put his foot down and refused to let her risk her health. They had each other and they were very involved in their respective careers and that was enough, in his opinion. If children were no longer an option then they would manage without them.

  Marius was gone for more than a month after the events in Alexandra and she made the most of it, devoting herself to improving life for the victims and especially for Abby. She also fulfilled her promise to her employer, turning in a series of top-selling articles on the reality of post-apartheid life for the black community.

  When Coetzee returned, they had both reached decisions that would change their lives forever, but neither was ready to discuss them. He had decided to leave the force and set up his own security company; she had decided that Abigail needed parents and they should adopt her. A year later they were divorced and she still couldn’t understand why.

  The day he had agreed to adopt Abby, as they now knew her, was probably the day she decided to divorce him. At the Sun, where she was plucking up her courage to call time on her journalistic career, one of her colleagues excitedly called her over. “Congratulations, Karen, that’s a fabulous honour for Marius.”

  “What do you mean? What’s happened?”

  “You mean you don’t know? He didn’t tell you?” The woman pushed a draft text towards her. “It just came from the daily news desk.”

  Karen looked at the article in amazement. It read;

  Honoris Crux Decoration for Special Services Major.

  Capetown September 15th2007

  This morning in the Houses of Parliament, on behalf of the President, the Minister of Home Affairs bestowed one of the nation’s most prestigious decorations on Major Marius Coetzee of the SA Special Forces Regiment. As reported in this newspaper on March 17th this year, Major Coetzee overcame a gang of eight members of the White Supremacy Fighters to save the lives of twelve children and four parents at the Alexandra Junior School. Major Coetzee’s wife, Karen, was also saved by his single handed intervention, without any back up from police forces. The white extremists are presently in jail awaiting trial for murder, abduction and plotting against the African National Congress government.

  Speaking on behalf of President Mandela, the Minister of Home Affairs, Nosiviwe Mapisa-Nqakula, awarded Major Coetzee the Honoris Crux Decoration after paying tribute to his bravery and his notable contribution to the eradication of white extremist groups in our country. Full story on page 7.

  Karen went back to their apartment and checked her husband’s wardrobe. His dress uniform was missing. He had left early that morning without disturbing her and having said nothing about the ceremony or the award. She sat in their bedroom, asking herself what she really knew about the man she was married to. What reason could he have for not sharing this prestigious award with her? What kind of a man would overcome six terrorists, v
irtually unarmed, save seventeen lives without blinking an eye, refuse to talk about it afterwards then sneak off to Cape Town to receive a medal without letting her know. Marius was a hero, an extraordinary man, but he had no idea how to be a husband. She shook her head and went to shower and change for him coming home.

  Marius had taken an afternoon flight from Cape Town and was back early. Karen had chilled a bottle of Krone Borealis Cuvee Brut, a South African champagne. She poured two glasses and took them out to the terrace. “Cheers, Marius,” she said. “Did you have a busy day?”

  “Oh, you know, same old same old. Nothing special.”

  “Really? I thought you were down in Cape Town?”

  “Oh, that? Just some government business.”

  Karen tried to remain calm, but her emotions overcame her. “So you think that getting the Honoris Crux is just some government business. That’s why you didn’t even mention it to me. Just the ‘same old same old’. Didn’t it occur to you that I might have liked to be told about it before I read it in a newspaper column? Before my colleagues realised that you hadn’t even mentioned it to me? Or that I might have been thrilled to accompany you to the ceremony?

  “What’s wrong, Marius, are you ashamed of receiving a medal for saving my life and sixteen others? Or is it of so little consequence that you can’t even be bothered to speak to me about it? For your information, I’m immensely proud of what you did, but I just can’t work out what goes on inside that shell of yours. After twenty years of marriage, I feel I still don’t know you at all. And it’s starting to get to me.”

  Coetzee said nothing for a moment then he raised his glass. “Cheers, Karen. I’ve been thinking about our talk the other night and I agree it’s a great idea to adopt Abby. Let’s drink to that.”

  In November, Karen learned that she had been awarded the runner-up prize in the Taco Kuiper award for her investigative Sun articles on post-apartheid conditions. She attended the ceremony alone, without even informing Marius of her achievement. He was still away from home frequently on emergency calls and an ever increasing number of government missions which he couldn’t or wouldn’t share with her. Abby’s adoption came through in December and they all spent Christmas together in the old farmhouse in Delmas. She had never felt so happy and fulfilled in her entire life, but she knew that it had more to do with Abby than with Marius.

  Six months after the adoption, Karen and Abby went to live in Delmas and Coetzee rented a small apartment in Diepkloof. She filed for divorce the following week. She demanded no alimony, she had a small pension and some savings and had already found a job at the winery. She was with her daughter and that was enough for her. He was left with his army salary and a bitter taste in his mouth. A month later, he resigned from the force and started Coetzee Security Services.

  Every other weekend when he came to take Abby out for the afternoon, Karen was aware of something missing, something lost, an aching feeling of unfulfilled emotion, but she never said anything. He’d never understood what he’d done wrong.

  Frankfurt Airport, Germany

  Pedro Espinoza was in the Lufthansa lounge at Frankfurt airport waiting for his flight to Johannesburg. Jenny had booked him in business class for the eleven hour journey. He had received her text message as he got off the first flight but waited until he found a quiet corner to call her back.

  Jenny was alone in her room and she answered immediately. “Pedro, are you safely in Frankfurt?” Without waiting for his reply, she immediately told him about Coetzee’s message. “I haven’t forwarded it to you because it’s so sensitive. What do you want me to do?”

  “Just read it slowly to me.”

  Jenny did as he asked then re-read it a second time. “What do you make of it?”

  Espinoza asked, “Do you think it’s genuine?”

  “Emma and I have looked at it very carefully and we’re convinced it is.” She summarised the observations she’d made to her sister.

  “Very good points as usual and I agree with you. So, this changes everything. If Coetzee has Leo, it means there’s been a disagreement and the whole organisation may be in disarray. But we still don’t know who is telling the truth. We need to reply to both of them and ask for proof of life from the ARGS people. If they are unable to provide it, Coetzee’s message will be conclusive. Then we can decide exactly how to act.”

  “We’ll do them both this evening. A more specific reply to Coetzee’s demand?”

  Exactly. And can you stop Emma from doing anything until I get there? She’ll obviously want to transfer the money immediately and get Leo picked up by some trusted person, but it’s not as easy as that. Whichever option is the right one, it still all comes down to money. Most kidnappings go wrong just at that moment and it’s usually the hostage who pays the price. We can’t afford to take that risk. It has to be a carefully planned operation, with no room for error.”

  “The good news is that you’ll be there by midday tomorrow and you are that trusted person. But I don’t have a bank account there so I don’t know how I can get the funds to you. And cash, which is probably what he wants, is impossible. We need a friendly banker to help us. I’ll make a few phone calls tomorrow morning.”

  “We also need to negotiate the amount. A million dollars is still a lot of money and I’m sure that Coetzee hopes to get only a half of that.”

  “Right. I can start that negotiation this evening by email. But there’s another thing that’s even more important, Pedro. There is some person, or perhaps more than one, who has organised this whole business to harm my family just to steal my money and two people have been murdered in the process. I don’t believe it was Coetzee and Nwosu alone. We must catch all of those persons and make them pay for their crimes so they can never harm us or anyone else again.

  “If we can get Leo back through Coetzee, that’s a wonderful result, even if we have to pay him first then trap him later. But we have two objectives; first to get Leo safely back and then to bring the culprits to justice. Do you agree and can you do it?”

  “That’s why I’m going to South Africa, Jenny. I’ll do my very best, trust me.”

  Marbella, Spain

  After Leticia had taken Emilio to bed the sisters sat together on the terrace. There was no breeze and the slender croissant of a new moon floated over their heads.

  “It really is paradise here,” Emma sighed. “I just wish Leo could share it. The pool, the lakes, everything. I could have taken him to Tarifa to try paragliding. He’s always wanted to do it but the Scottish climate isn’t exactly ideal. Although we do get plenty of wind.”

  “I’m sure he’ll be with us very soon and he’s welcome to do anything he wants. After what he’s been through he deserves no less.”

  “What are we going to do about Coetzee’s message? Why would there be two groups trying to blackmail me and which one really has Leo? And then there’s the money, it’s such a fortune. Can you really afford to lend me so much?”

  Jenny thought for a moment before replying. She could afford the money, but that was almost a secondary issue. She reflected on her conversation with Espinoza. Someone was responsible for this abduction plan and its dreadful consequences, but they were still no nearer to finding out who it was. She had to explain to Emma that the punishment of the kidnappers was just as important as the return of her son.

  “First,” she said, “I’m now convinced that Coetzee has taken Leo away from whatever group it was and is trying to help us, but for a price. As far as that demand goes, the answer is, yes I can afford to lend you the money, but I won’t. I won’t lend it to you because you’ll spend your whole life working to pay me back and I would never impose such a burden on you. It will be a gift to you and Leo and I’ll be delighted to give it, at the right moment.

  “But secondly, we must find these people and bring them to justice. They’ve committed terrible crimes and we have to make sure they pay the price of their actions.”

  “Oh, Jenny, I’ve been ha
ving nightmares about finding the money and I don’t know how I could ever pay it back. But I’ll try to find a way. I have to. Leo’s my son and I’ll sacrifice everything I have for him. And you’re right, we have to find these people and stop them from ever harming us again.”

  She paused for a moment. “It’s going to be very complicated to arrange this with Coetzee. Tell me how you think we should proceed.”

  “That’s the most delicate part of this whole sordid story. We have to set it up with the utmost attention to detail so that nothing can possibly go wrong. I’ll speak to my bankers tomorrow morning. Pedro will be there by midday and we can work out the procedure with him. He’s clever and resourceful; we couldn’t have a better partner.

  “But it will still take some time. We have to be absolutely certain of Leo’s whereabouts and who he is with, so we need to maintain contact with both sources without raising their suspicions. I have to arrange for the cash to be available in Polokwane and Pedro has to set up the meeting and ensure that Leo is in a safe place where he can be picked up and flown home. I’ve told him I’ll pay for a private jet to Mauritius, as I did for you. That way we don’t have to worry about the immigration police.” She said nothing about her other objective. One thing at a time, she told herself.

  “Now come and help me write these emails. In Coetzee’s case we need to haggle. If we don’t negotiate he won’t think we’re serious.” They took Emma’s laptop up to the office and opened up his email.

  FIFTY-ONE

  Phalaborwa, Limpopo, South Africa

  Coetzee had paid the hotel bill with cash, so no one could track his credit card payments. He knew he was becoming even more paranoid, but since Nwosu had somehow managed to find Karen in the middle of nowhere, he couldn’t risk leaving a trail of any kind. He changed into a long sleeved shirt and cotton trousers and threw his remaining clothes into the travel bag. Leo helped him repack the Land Cruiser and put his own suitcase in, he was still biding his time hoping to get a chance to escape somewhere nearer to civilisation, where he could find help, or at least make contact with his mother.