'You can't all stand in here. Go wait outside.'
Chapter 19
At seventeen minutes to four, American Eastern Standard Time - five hours behind Greenwich Mean Time and seven hours behind Cape Town, Bill Anderson sat at the laptop on his desk reading Internet articles about South Africa. His wife, Jess, sat on the leather couch behind him, her legs drawn up and covered with a blanket. She jumped when the phone rang shrilly.
He grabbed it. 'Bill Anderson,' he said, the concern discernible in his voice.
'Mr Anderson, my name is Dan Burton. I am the US Consul General in Cape Town.' The voice rang as clear as crystal despite the great distance. 'I know what a difficult time this must be for you.'
'Thank you, sir.'
'Who is it?' Jess Anderson asked, coming to stand close to her husband. He held a hand over the receiver and whispered: 'The Consul General in Cape Town.' Then he held the phone so she could also hear.
'I can tell you that I've just got off the phone with both the National and Provincial Commissioners of the South African Police Services, and although they have not found Rachel yet...'
Jess Anderson made a small noise and her husband put his arm around her shoulders while they listened.
'...they have assured me they will leave no stone unturned until they have done so. They are allocating every available resource to the search as we speak, and they think it is only a matter of time ..
'Thank you, sir ...'
'Now, the only reason why the Ambassador himself is not calling you, is because he is away on official matters up north in Limpopo Province, but it is my job to coordinate all functions of the US Government in the Cape Town consular district, where I maintain contact with senior South African officials, both provincial and national...'
'Mr Burton ...'
'Please call me Dan ...'
'Our biggest concern is that Rachel said something about the police when she called.'
'Oh?'
'She said that she could not even go to the police.'
The Consul General was quiet for a moment. 'Did she say why?'
'No, she did not have time. She was very distressed, she said 'they're here', and then I just heard noises ...'
'She said the police were there?'
'No ... I don't know ... She said 'they're here, please help me' ... But the way she spoke about the police ... I don't know, it was my impression that she could not trust them. And I've been doing some reading on the Internet. It says here the man in charge of the whole police force over there is being charged with corruption and defeating the ends of justice....'
'Oh, my God,' said Jess, looking at the computer screen.
'Well ...' the Consul General seemed to need time to digest this information. 'I know how it looks, Mr Anderson, but I have every reason to believe the law enforcement people in Cape Town are highly competent and trustworthy. I will certainly call the Commissioner right away to get some answers ... In the meantime, I've taken the liberty of giving your phone number to the authorities. The Commissioner has assured me the officer in charge of the investigation will call you as soon as he can, and he will keep you updated on all developments. His name is ... Ghreezil, an Inspector Benny Ghreezil...'
'Ask about Erin,' whispered Jess Anderson.
'Mr Burton, Erin Russel... Is there any news about Erin?'
'It is with great sadness that I have to tell you that Miss Russel was killed last night, Mr Anderson ...' His wife let the blanket slip from her shoulders, put her hands on her husband's shoulders, pressed her face into his neck and wept.
Inspector Mbali Kaleni told the uniformed policemen that Carlucci's Restaurant was to be treated as a crime scene. She had the whole area cordoned off with yellow tape. Then she cleared the restaurant and had the employees and clients wait at the patio tables while two Constables took their names, addresses and statements.
She ordered a Sergeant to call Forensics to test the back and outside doors for fingerprints. She asked the young man in the apron, the one that had seen everything happen, to go with a Constable in a SAPS vehicle to the Caledon Square police station to help compile an Identikit image of the attackers. The young man said he couldn't; he was in charge of the shop. She asked him if there was someone he could call to replace him. He said he would try.
'Hurry up,' she said in her commanding way. 'We don't have time.'
'Did you check the number?' he asked her.
'What number?'
'The Land Rover's registration number. I got part of it. I gave it to the guys who were here.'
'I will check.'
Before the young man could walk away, she asked him to confirm in what direction the girl and her assailants had run. He pointed, but she held up a chubby hand and said, 'No, come show me.'
She put on her sporty Adidas dark glasses and led the way out of the restaurant, to the corner of Upper Orange and Belmont. The young man pointed towards the city centre. 'I want to make sure. You saw her run that way?'
'No, I told you, I didn't see her run in any other direction, so she must have gone down Upper Orange. The guys came back through the shop, shoved me, ran down to the corner, and the next thing, they came back for the Land Rover. Then they went that way too.'
'They were young?'
'Yes.'
'What is young?'
'I dunno, early twenties ...'
'Fit and strong?'
'Yes.'
She nodded and gestured that he could go. She called the Sergeant who had come to take the statement. He confirmed that he had radioed in the Land Rover's number.
'Call them. Ask them what they have found.'
He nodded and went over to a patrol car.
She looked at the street again.
Why would they come back for the Land Rover? Two young men, chasing a girl from two o'clock that morning. She must be exhausted, but they didn't run after her, they came back for a vehicle? Made no sense.
She wiped perspiration from her forehead, adjusted the strap of the big black handbag over her shoulder and put her hands on her hips. She was oblivious to the uniformed men watching her, sniggering and whispering behind their cupped hands.
She turned around slowly, looking down every street. She wiped her forehead again. They couldn't see her any more; that was the thing. The two attackers would have pursued her on foot if they could see her. She had disappeared; that was why they fetched the vehicle.
Kaleni called two young Constables who were leaning against a police van. 'You, and you,' she pointed, 'come here.'
They came, laughing self-consciously. She told them to go out the back of the restaurant as far as the wooden door, which was still bolted shut.
'But don't touch anything.'
