‘The people you’ve picked up here in South Africa… do you think they’ll talk eventually — give up the names of the paedophiles they were supplying?’
‘You can bet on it. We’ll break them down, one way or another. Even if we have to give the bastards witness protection and exemption, we’ll get the main men.’
‘I’m sure you will. Before I go, can I give you a name? Doctor Pervez Khan.’ Sannie gave Martha the doctor’s home address. ‘He’s listed as a missing person, but you might want to mention his name in your questioning of the subjects.’ She said goodbye and hung up.
Sannie had come into work early to ensure she could get onto one of the few computers in the office. She turned on one of the terminals, finished her coffee and skimmed the rest of the newspaper while she waited for the ageing thing to boot up. When it finally came to life she logged in and checked her emails. There were two belated replies to the enquiries she had started in relation to Daniel Carney. Sannie had followed up her theory that Carney might be a South African expat living in London.
The first message was from the South African embassy in London. The senior press officer there replied that she had no knowledge of a South African journalist named Daniel Carney. A search of their log of media calls over the past year had turned up no mention of anyone named Carney. ‘Damn,’ Sannie said as she closed the message.
The next was from the South African Union of Journalists. Again, it contained no news. There was no record of a Daniel Carney ever registering as a free-lancer, or joining the union. She had already received replies from all of the major newspapers in South Africa saying they had never heard of the man.
So apparently he wasn’t an accredited reporter. Who was he, then?
Sannie decided she would check with the Department of Home Affairs whether anyone by the name of Daniel Carney had entered or exited South Africa in the last few months. She checked her contact book again and called a man who had helped her with such queries in the past. It was a long shot, but she could think of no other avenue at the moment.
Her contact was out of the office, so she asked for and was given his email address by the operator. Sannie typed a brief message and sent it off.
Elise pressed the button on the remote control and the security gate rolled open. ‘Christo, stop it. Don’t pull your little sister’s hair!’
‘But she bit me, Ouma!’
‘Don’t tell tales. You’re bigger than her, my boy. You must look after her.’
‘And she must not bite me!’
The kids, normally so well behaved, had been being a handful this afternoon since she’d picked them up from school. Perhaps it was the heat, or maybe they were unsettled because of the disruptions to their routine. Elise believed the latter was more likely.
Sannie’s trip to England, the coming of the Englishman to stay with them, and then his departure just as the children were warming to him, was all too much for them, Elise thought. Although she wouldn’t admit it to Sannie she, too, had felt her initial dislike of the foreigner weaken a little as she got to know him better. He was a good man, she supposed — otherwise, why else would Sannie have taken to him? Yet he was obviously not the sort who could commit to family life. Why, she wondered, would he up and take off into the bush by himself? From what she had gathered, the man was still on the trail of the bloody terrorists who had killed his boss. That was fine, if you wanted to act like some action movie star, but she was worried that he might try to drag Sannie along with him, as he had done in Mozambique.
Elise was not sure Sannie was smart enough not to be enticed on some foolish adventure again. For all her academic ability at school and dedication at work, Sannie had always had a wild side. She’d grown up like an African kid on the farm, despite Elise’s best efforts to civilise her. Pierre, Sannie’s father, had been too soft on the girl. She hadn’t been promiscuous as a teenager — at least, not as far as Elise knew — but she was concerned that she had obviously been having sex with the Englishman. Elise was not happy about any sex out of wedlock, though she knew standards were different these days. In any case, it came down to whether the man was right for her daughter, and her grandchildren. The Englishman could be charming, but he wasn’t the kind to stick around, as he had just proved.
‘Ouma, please, please, please, can I go in the swimming pool?’
Elise felt sorry for Christo but, while his swimming was quite good, it was a firm rule in the household that the children could only use the pool if their mother was present. ‘No. You must wait until your mother comes home.’
Christo grizzled and Ilana yelped again. Elise parked the car and turned the engine off. ‘Help me take the shopping inside,’ she said to Christo, who frowned but obeyed, and went to the car boot. The phone started ringing. ‘Grab two bags and bring them,’ she said, rushing to the house and fumbling with her keys.
‘Hello?’
‘Mrs Van Rensburg?’
‘Mrs De Winter, actually,’ Elise said to the English-speaking man on the line. It sounded like he was on a cell phone. ‘Who’s calling?’
‘Mrs De Winter, my name is Daniel Carney, I’m a journalist, from England — a friend of Tom Furey. I wonder if I might have a word with Tom, please? I understand he’s staying with you.’
Elise frowned. She was naturally suspicious of any strangers — one had to be, with the crime rate the way it was in Johannesburg these days. But the man was English, and he knew Tom had been staying with them. She relaxed a little. ‘He’s not here.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Has he left on his trip already?’
So, Elise thought, the man at least knew of Tom’s movements. ‘ Ja. A few days ago.’
‘Again, I’m sorry to hear that. I’m only in Johannesburg for a couple of days and I wanted to catch up with him. I’ve got some information — some documents — that I brought with me from England. They’ll be of great help to Tom, but it seems I’ve got no way of getting the information to him.’
‘Well,’ Elise paused. She could tell the man to drop the papers at the house. Sannie would know what to do with them.
‘Perhaps I could just drop the documents with you. Sannie would be interested in them, as well.’
‘Where are you, Mr…?’
‘Carney. As a matter of fact, I’m just up the road from your house, driving towards it now. I rang the bell before, but there was no one home, so I waited until I saw your car come in.’
Elise licked her lips and ran a hand through her grey hair. ‘Um, my daughter will be home from work in a couple of hours. Perhaps you can…’
‘I’m on a flight in two hours’ time, Mrs De Winter. How about I just drop the papers off with you, and I’ll call Sannie later tonight?’
‘Ouma! There’s a car at the gate,’ Christo sang out.
She supposed it would be all right. The man obviously knew Tom, as well as having mentioned Sannie’s name. Elise picked up the remote control for the gate from where she’d dropped it on the kitchen counter, and pressed the button.
Sannie had gone out late for lunch and when she returned, there was a yellow Post-it note with a phone message on it. Jay Suresh, her contact at Home Affairs, had returned her call and said to call him urgently. If it was urgent, why couldn’t the receptionist have called her on her cell phone? Sannie sighed. She dialled Suresh and, while she waited on hold, logged in again to the shared computer and brought up her emails.
There was also a message from Jay, which she opened while still waiting to talk to him in person. Hi, Sannie. You must be psychic! Daniel John Carney, British Citizen, dob 21/7/64 arrived OR Tambo International Airport on the BA flight from London this morning at zero-eight-hundred. He had an existing visa and this was his second entry. Suresh also gave the date of Carney’s first arrival. She checked her calendar. It was four days before Greeves and Joyce had been abducted from Tinga.
‘Sannie, hi. Sorry, I was on another call,’ Suresh said. ‘Sannie? Are you there?’
‘Hi, Jay. Sorry, I just read your email.’
‘Hey, did you know this guy was going to arrive today?’
‘No. No, I didn’t.’
‘Weird, hey?’
