Jan Kleyn was sitting on a chair against one of the walls, smiling at him. Scheepers had decided to treat him in a friendly and correct manner. He had spent an hour going through the notebook. He was still doubtful whether the assassination attempt on Nelson Mandela really had been switched to Durban. He had weighed the reasons for and against without reaching any definite conclusion. He saw absolutely no prospect of Jan Kleyn actually telling him the truth. He might just be able to lure him into providing snippets of information which could indicate indirectly how things stood.
Scheepers sat opposite Jan Kleyn, and it struck him this was Matilda’s father he was looking at. He knew the secret, but he realized he would not be able to make use of it. It would result in far too big a threat for the two women. Jan Kleyn could not be detained indefinitely. He already looked like he was ready to leave the interview room at any moment.
A secretary came in and sat down at a little table to one side.
“Jan Kleyn,” he said. “You have been arrested because there are strong grounds for believing you are involved in and possibly even responsible for subversive activities, and plotting to commit murder. What do you have to say?”
Jan Kleyn continued smiling as he replied.
“My response is that I will not say anything until I have a lawyer at my side.”
Scheepers was momentarily put off his stride. The normal procedure was that when a person is arrested, the first step is to give him the opportunity of contacting a lawyer.
“Everything has been conducted by the book,” said Jan Kleyn, as if he could see right through Scheepers’ hesitation. “But my lawyer hasn’t arrived yet.”
“We can start with personal details, then,” said Scheepers. “You don’t need to have a lawyer present for that.”
“Of course not.”
Scheepers left the room as soon as he had recorded all the details. He left instructions to send for him the moment the lawyer showed up. When he got to the prosecutor’s waiting room, he was covered in sweat. Jan Kleyn’s nonchalant superiority unnerved him. How could he be so indifferent when faced with charges which, if proven, could result in his being sentenced to death?
Scheepers suddenly began to wonder if he would be able to handle him as required. Maybe he should contact Wervey and suggest that a more experienced interrogator should be called in? On the other hand he knew Wervey was expecting him to carry off the assignment he had been given. Wervey never gave anybody the same challenge twice. His whole career would be under threat if he failed to live up to expectations. He took off his jacket and rinsed his face under the cold water tap. Then he ran through the questions he planned to put one more time.
He also managed to get through to President de Klerk. As soon as he could he passed on his suspicion that the president’s office was bugged. De Klerk heard him through without interrupting.
“I’ll have that looked into,” he said when Scheepers was through. That was the end of the conversation.
It was six o’clock before he was informed that the lawyer had shown up. He returned to the interview room immediately. The lawyer by Jan Kleyn’s side was about forty and called Kritzinger. They shook hands and greeted each other coolly. Scheepers could see right away that Kritzinger and Jan Kleyn were old acquaintances. It was possible Kritzinger had deliberately delayed his arrival in order to give Jan Kleyn breathing space and at the same time unnerve the chief interrogator. The effect on Scheepers was the opposite, and he remained quite calm. All the doubts he had experienced over the last few hours had disappeared.
“I have examined the detention order,” said Kritzinger. “These are serious charges.”
“It’s a serious crime to undermine national security,” Scheepers responded.
“My client absolutely rejects all the charges,” said Kritzinger. “I demand that he be released immediately. Is it sensible to detain people whose daily task it is to uphold precisely that national security you refer to?”
“For the moment I am the one asking the questions,” said Scheepers. “Your client is the one required to supply the answers, not me.”
Scheepers glanced down at his papers.
“Do you know Franz Malan?” he asked.
“Yes,” said Jan Kleyn without hesitation. “He works in the military sector which deals with top secret security measures.”
“When did you last see him?”
“In connection with the terrorist attack on the restaurant near Durban. We were both called in to assist with the investigation.”
“Are you aware of a secret group of boere who call themselves simply the Committee?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“My client has already answered once,” protested Kritzinger.
“There’s nothing to prevent my asking the same question twice,” snapped Scheepers.
“I am not aware of any such Committee,” said Jan Kleyn.
“We have reason to believe the assassination of one of the black nationalist leaders is being plotted by that same Committee,” said Scheepers. “Various places and dates have been mentioned. Do you know anything about that?”
“No.”
Scheepers produced the notebook.
“When your house was searched, the police found this book. Do you recognize it?”
“Of course I recognize it. It’s mine.”
“There are various notes in it about dates and places. Can you tell me what they mean?”
“What is all this?” said Jan Kleyn, turning to his lawyer. “These are private notes about birthdays and meetings with friends.”
“What do you have planned for Cape Town on June 12?”
Jan Kleyn’s expression did not waver when he replied.
“I have nothing planned at all,” he said. “I had thought of going there for a meeting with some of my fellow numismatists. But it was canceled.”
Scheepers thought Jan Kleyn still seemed totally unconcerned.
“What do you have to say about Durban on July 3?”
“Nothing.”
“You have nothing to say?”
Jan Kleyn turned to his lawyer and whispered something.
“My client declines to answer that question for personal reasons,” said Kritzinger.
“Personal reasons or not, I want an answer,” said Scheepers.
“This is lunacy,” said Jan Kleyn, with a gesture of resignation.
Scheepers suddenly noticed Jan Kleyn was sweating. Moreover one of his hands, resting on the table, had started trembling.
“All your questions so far have been completely lacking in substance,” said Kritzinger. “I shall very soon be demanding an end to all this and insisting on the immediate release of my client.”
“When it comes to investigations concerning threats to national security, the police and prosecutors have wide powers,” said Scheepers. “Now, will you please answer my question.”
“I am having an affair with a woman in Durban,” said Jan Kleyn. “As she is married, I have to meet her in extremely discreet circumstances.”
“Do you meet her regularly?”
“Yes.”
“What’s her name?”
Jan Kleyn and Kritzinger protested with one voice.
“OK, we’ll leave her name out of it for the time being,” said Scheepers. “I’ll come back to that. But if it’s true you meet her regularly and, moreover, note down various meetings in this book, is it not a little odd that there’s only one reference to Durban?”
“I get through at least ten notebooks a year,” said Jan Kleyn. “I throw full ones away regularly. Or burn them.”
