‘I know,’ Henderson said.
De Villiers hesitated. ‘When you arrest him, I would like you to give him a message.’
‘Tell me.’
‘I want you to tell him that this,’ De Villiers touched the envelope, ‘this is for Jacques Verster.’
Henderson took a pen from his pocket. ‘Who?’
De Villiers took the envelope from Henderson and wrote:
This is for Jacques Verster – 4 Recce
From: The soldier who said no
De Villiers handed the envelope back to Henderson. ‘Thanks.’
‘I want you at the office soonest,’ Henderson said over his shoulder and started turning towards the hotel.
‘Sir,’ De Villiers called after him.
Henderson turned and faced De Villiers. ‘Yes?’
From the height of the driver’s seat, De Villiers looked down at Henderson. ‘There’s one other thing.’ De Villiers waited for Henderson to nod. ‘It’s in the dossier. That Leatherman is a
PST
, a 1983 model, and it’s mine, and I want it back once the trial is over.’
‘What makes you think he has it?’
De Villiers chose his words carefully. ‘You’ll find that the arrowhead was made using a steel file, and I think you’ll find that the steel file in that Leatherman matches the file markings on the bone.’
Henderson stood silent for a while, contemplating the outcome. ‘And that should close out the investigation into the attempted assassination of the
PM
, shouldn’t it?’
When De Villiers didn’t respond, Henderson answered his own question. ‘Yes, I think it would.’
‘I’d better tell the men conducting the searches to look out for it,’ Henderson said. He turned and left with a wave of his hand.
De Villiers watched him dig in his pocket for his cellphone.
De Villiers sat still in the driver’s seat with his hand on the key in the ignition.
‘Are we going, Dad?’ Zoë asked from the back seat.
De Villiers turned and caught Emma studying him. His wife put her hand on his arm.
‘Is your seat belt fastened?’ he said over his shoulder to Zoë.
‘Of course, Dad, I’m not a baby any more!’
‘Let’s go home,’ Emma said softly.
De Villiers put his hand behind Emma’s head and played with her hair, unwilling to let go.
‘It’s time to go home,’ he said and turned the key.
balaclava | SA English | ski mask (used by criminals) |
boep | Afrikaans | pot belly (short for ‘boeppens’) |
boerewors | Afrikaans | sausage |
bosbefok | Afrikaans | shellshocked (military slang) |
bossies | Afrikaans | colloquial abbreviation for bosbefok |
braai | Afrikaans | barbeque |
Buffel | Afrikaans | an armoured troop carrier (literally, a buffalo) |
dairy | NZ English | tearoom, corner café |
dominee | Afrikaans | clergyman, parson |
djani | !Xun (San) | ‘catch the light’ (a children’s game) |
footpath | NZ English | pavement, sidewalk |
gemsbok | Afrikaans | Oryx gazelle |
impimpi | Zulu | turncoat |
induna | Zulu | tribal policeman, supervisor |
iwi | Maori | a Maori tribe |
knobkierie | SA Eng & Afr | stick with a knob of wood or metal at one end |
mana | NZ | standing, presence |
pohutakawa | Maori | New Zealand’s national tree |
prospect | NZ English | junior or neophyte member of a gang |
Olifant | Afrikaans | heavily armoured troop carrier (elephant) |
Ratel | Afrikaans | fast troop carrier, lightly armoured (badger) |
Rooivalk | Afrikaans | attack helicopter (red falcon) |
tapu | Maori | sacred |
tarentaal | Afrikaans | guinea fowl |
teheroa | Maori | large, edible shellfish |
tos | Afrikaans | cheap, tasteless |
tramper | NZ English | backpacker |
tsotsi | Fanagalo | a petty criminal, mugger, pickpocket, thief |
tuangi | Maori | cockles |
tuatua | Maori | small, edible shellfish |
waka | Maori | Maori sea-going canoe |
whanau | Maori | family (extended family) |
I received a great deal of assistance and advice from the following people, whose contributions I acknowledge and appreciate: my friend and colleague, Adrian Collingwood, who can spot an inconsistency a mile away; my wife, Ansie, who proofread the manuscript more than once; and the doctors, staff and patients of the Durban Oncology Centre, who shared their secrets with me, wittingly and unwittingly.