He was weighing her, testing her; she knew it as an absolute truth.
She laughed softly. If only he knew. She took a deep breath and took the last steps one by one, measuring, as if enumerating a strategic plan.
Radebe began reporting the minute she walked into the Ops Room, his voice softly apologetic, explaining the redeployment of the teams? six of the best at the airport, six at the Cape Town station, in two teams of three each to watch the trains and the bus terminal. His three teammates beside him were busy contacting every car-rental business in the city, with instructions to let them know if someone of Mpayipheli?s description tried to hire a vehicle. They would also contact every private plane charter service. Three more teams of two each were in their cars, awaiting instructions, down below on Wale Street. There was no activity at Monica Kleintjes?s or at Miriam Nzululwazi?s.
She nodded. Quinn confirmed monitoring of the Nzululwazi phone. There had been no calls yet.
Rajkumar, ever sensitive, had a bearing of injured pride as he gave his report: ?No record of Thobela Mpayipheli in the Um-khonto we Sizwe files. Mpayipheli?s registered home address is Mitchell?s Plain? the property belongs to one Orlando Arendse. Probably the same Arendse that Monica phoned this afternoon, looking for Mpayipheli. But Arendse?s registered home address is in Milnerton Ridge.? The obese body shifted subtly, self- confidence returning. ?The interesting thing is Arendse?s criminal record? twice served time for dealing in stolen goods, in 1975 and 1982 to 1984, once charged and found not guilty of dealing in unlicensed weapons in 1989, twice arrested for dealing in drugs, in 1992 and 1995, but the cases were never brought to trial. One thing is certain: Orlando Arendse is organized crime. Drugs. Big-time. Prostitution, gambling, stolen property. The usual protection racket. And if I read the signs correctly, the Scorpions are looking very closely at his dealings. That Mitchell?s Plain address could be a drug house, seems to me.? Rahjev Rajkumar leaned back in satisfaction.
?Good work,? she said. She paced up and down the wall behind the Indian, her arms folded.
Organized crime? She grasped at possibilities, but it wouldn'?t make sense.
?Organized crime?? she spoke aloud. ?I don'?t see it.?
?Money makes strange bedfellows,? said Rajkumar. ?And if it?s drugs, it?s money. Big money.?
?Mpayipheli could be a dealer,? said Quinn.
?He?s a motorbike mechanic,? said Radebe. ?It doesn'?t fit.?
Mentz stopped her pacing, nodding. ?Rahjev, find out who the owner of the bike shop is.?
?Company registrations are not up-to-date. I can poke around but??
Radebe: ?I?ll send a car over there. Sometimes there are emergency numbers on the door.?
?Do it.?
She tried to analyze the known facts, angles, and different points of perspective, stumbling on the crime bits of the jigsaw puzzle.
?No record of Mpayipheli with the ANC, MK, PAC, or APLA?? she asked.
?Nothing. But, of course, the ANC systems have had a few knocks. They are not complete. And the PAC and APLA never really had anything. All the PAC info came from the Boers. And there?s nothing on Mpayipheli.?
?There must be a connection between Mpayipheli and the Kleintjeses.?
?Hell,? said Quinn, ?he could have been their gardener.?
Radebe, always careful with what he said, frowned deeply as if he had strong doubts. ?She phoned the Arendse number to find Mpayipheli. Maybe Arendse is the connection.?
?Could be.? She was walking up and down again, digesting the input, weighing possibilities. Her thirst for information all-encompassing, they had to make a breakthrough, shine a bright light into the haze of ignorance. But how do you get a drug baron to talk?
Another cycle in her traverse of the wall.
?Okay,? she said. ?This is what we are going to do.?
In the dirty toilets of Bellville Station, behind a closed door, he took the pistols out of the rolled-up magazines. Then he went out and placed the different pieces in separate trash cans. He began to walk toward Durban Road. He still had no idea where he was going. He was aware of minutes ticking by and was only ten kilometers closer to Lusaka than when he had been at the airport. The temptation to drop the whole mess and go home lay like yearning on him. But the question kept returning to him: Is that what Johnny Kleintjes did when Thobela needed him? And the answer was always no, no matter how many times he thought about it, no matter how little he wanted to be there, no matter how little he wanted the urgency and tension growing in his belly. He owed Johnny Kleintjes and he would have to move his butt. Turning the corner of Voortrekker and Durban Road, he saw the vehicles at the traffic lights and a light came on in his head, hurrying the tempo of his footsteps as he moved toward the office of the Revenue Services.
There was a taxi rank there. He must get back to the city. Quickly.
For the second time that day Captain Tiger Mazibuko cut his cellphone connection with Janina Mentz and began barking out orders to Team Alpha: ?Let?s get these boxes open, there?s work to be done. Hecklers, handguns, smoke grenades, bulletproof vests, and night sights. And paint your faces.?
They sprang into action with a will, snapped open the equipment cases, flicking glances at him, curious at the type of order, but he gave nothing away while he reflected on his conversation with Mentz. Why had he assaulted an officer this afternoon? Because the fucker had set his German shepherd on Little Joe Moroka. What had Little Joe done? didn?'t salute the little lieutenant.
Why not? Because Little Joe is Little Joe. So busy inside his head sometimes that he doesn'?t know what?s going on around him. In-a-fog negligence was all that it was. And when the lieutenant confronted him with a stream of obscenities, the outcome was inevitable. Little Joe takes shit from only one person and that?s me. That?s why we fetched Little Joe out of the MP cells in the first place. Little Joe told him to go do an unmentionable deed with himself or his dog, and the lieutenant encouraged the dog to bite him. Which in any case, militarily speaking, is a
