She remembered. The policeman had worked at the Sea Point office. They called him ?Rassie.? Burned out at twenty-eight in the fight against a declining suburb, he had transferred to more restful pastures. She greeted him happily, asking how he was. As well, he replied, as you could be in a place where the sweet blow all grew a meter high. She laughed her throaty laugh. Then the voice on the line became serious.
?Do you know about the Xhosa on the BMW??
?No,? she said.
?Then I?'ve got a story for you.?
CLASSIFIED GRADE ONE
MEMORANDUM
17 NOVEMBER 1984 19:32
STATUS:
Urgent
FROM:
Derek Lategan, legal attache, Embassy, Washington
TO:
Quartus Naude
Urgent request from CIA, Langley, Virginia: Any possible information and/or photographic material:
Thobela Mpayipheli, alias Tiny, alias Umzingeli. Suspected previously Umkhonto we Sizwe, probably current operator, Stasi/KGB. Probably operational in UK/Europe. Black male, 2.1 m, 100-120 kg. No further intelligence available.
End
Janina Mentz looked at the fax, the poor reproduction, the handwritten note in the upper right corner barely legible: ?Our help with this matter could open doors. Regards, Derek.?
She checked the cover page. ?Attachments: 1.?
?Is this all?? she asked.
?Yes, ma?am, that?s all,? said Radebe.
?Where?s the follow-up? Where?s the answer??
?They say that?s the only reference on the microfiche, ma?am. Just that.?
?They?re lying. Send a request for the follow-up correspondence. And contact details for the sender and addressee of the memorandum: Lategan and Naude.?
Why did they have to struggle for cooperation? Why the endless rivalry and politicking? She was angry and frustrated. She knew the real source was the new information, the caliber of their fugitive and their underestimation of him. This meant escalation. It meant trouble. For her and the project. And if the NIA wanted to play games, she had to get a bigger stick.
She reached for the phone and dialed an internal number. The director answered.
?Sir,? she said, ?we need help with the NIA. They are not playing ball. Can you use NICoC influence??
The director, together with the director-general of the National Intelligence Agency, the head of Military Intelligence, the head of the Police National Investigation Service, and the director-general of the Secret Service, was a member of the National Intelligence Coordinating Committee, under the chairmanship of the minister.
?Let me phone the DG direct,? said the director.
?Thank you, sir.?
?I am happy to help, Janina.?
She took up the fax again. In 1984 the CIA suspected that Mpayipheli was working for the KGB? In Europe?
The CIA?
This man? This middle-aged gofer? The coward from the airport?
She pulled the transcript of the Orlando Arendse interview from the pile in front of her.
She took a deep breath. No reason to worry. It meant Johnny Kleintjes knew what he was doing. He would not put his safety in amateur hands. They had underestimated Mpayipheli. She would not make that mistake again.
She used the new intelligence, ran through her strategy. More sure than ever that he would use the Ni. A cool cat, this one, self-assured: his display at the airport calculated to mislead, the smooth disarming of the agents explained, the choice of motorbike, in retrospect, very clever.
But still they had the upper hand. Mpayipheli did not know that they knew.
And if things went wrong, there was always the leverage of Miriam Nzululwazi. And the child.
He knew he had to get off the road. He couldn'?t stay where he was in the dark. Or he must turn back, find another route; but he was unwilling, his entire being rejected retreat; he must move on, to the north.
