“No! Really?”
Anneline paused to hear an item of interest to her, and then went on: “The krantz case-is that right? He says that Sergeant Marais had an inspiration and got in touch with the prison doctor where someone called Ringo had been kept during remand. This prison doctor remembered noticing two holes in the man’s mouth during the routine checkup, and having put some fillings in so there wouldn’t be any problems during the trial. Oh, a whole lot more, but that is the main gist of it. Can you do something about the sound?”
Strydom did do something-he wasn’t sure quite what-and then sat back on the sofa beside her, very content with the world and, in particular, with the way his day had been spent. As soon as the news was over, he and his huggable old helpmeet would certainly have a great deal to discuss.
The front doorbell rang.
“Oh, good,” said Anneline, elbowing him in the ribs. “That’ll be Hester and her mother from over the road. Go and welcome them in, Chris-this will be the first time they’ve seen it, poor things.”
Kramer returned from Olifantsvlei with a very definite idea of what he was up against; an idea that-as he’d been telling himself in the car-made the mind bloody boggle. It wasn’t so much a murderer they were looking for, but an avenger.
He chanced across Colonel Muller in the vehicle yard of police headquarters, just as the old bugger was sneaking off home after a long day, and they sat on the mounting step of a handy troop carrier for a quick debriefing.
“But I don’t see what you’ve established this afternoon,” the Colonel said, when each had given the other his news. “If the minister at Olifantsvlei claims there must have been folk from the Witklip district at his nagmaal, then surely that doesn’t in itself begin to clinch anything? What about all the other people from all the other places? Any of them could be equally suspect.”
“Sir?” muttered Kramer, replacing the notes on the positive identification of Ringo Roberts in the Colonel’s briefcase-and blocking an impulse to be distracted by them. “Oh, I just threw that in for good measure. It was the interview before that which clinched it-the one I had with Joep Terblanche, the ex-sergeant who eats his meals with the foreman’s widow.”
“Terblanche couldn’t see a Witklip connection. Haven’t you just told me that?”
“Please, sir, disregard Witklip entirely. In Terblanche’s mind, Rossouw had committed a capital offense-murder.”
“Ja, I understand that. Quite natural.”
“Then take the three hangings we know something about. Rossouw was, to all intents and purposes, a murderer-agreed? But weren’t Ringo and Tollie also involved in capital offenses?”
“Er-in a manner of speaking.”
This hesitancy really annoyed Kramer and goaded him into sarcasm. “It may be a fact that only one white rapist gets hanged for every hundred bloody ntombi shaggers,” he said, “but you’re not denying that even attempted robbery can, strictly speaking, get you the noose?”
The Colonel frowned. “Now you’ve lost me, man. Tollie’s wasn’t just attempted; it was a case of armed-and he took a shot at you! That wasn’t what I was getting at, but you just carry on. My dinner likes to get cold.”
“Then-”
“And what’s rape got to do with it?”
“It could,” replied Kramer, improvising swiftly, and rather wishing he’d left all this till the morning, “it could be the capital crime for which the tramp was executed.”
“Hey?”
“The same could apply to the witch doctor. There are nine different headings we can choose from, but those political ones seem a bit far out.”
“Unless,” said the Colonel dryly, “he had been putting evil spells on the government dipping inspector. I’m beginning to see where you’re going, and I must caution you not to slip into a trap.”
“Which is?”
“Coming back from Terblanche and using the word executed. So far, you and me have successfully avoided thinking about all this like some trashy newspaper, and that is the proper professional attitude. Stick to the correct terms, please.”
“But, Colonel, is it murder to kill a murderer?”
“Hey? If you’re speaking about doing it in cold blood, as part of a premeditated act and not where innocent lives are in any immediate danger, then obviously the crime is one of-”
“When you use a noose on a rope?”
During the clap of silence that followed, Kramer took out his Lucky Strikes, lit one, and flicked his match at the yard cat.
“The state,” began Colonel Muller, then seemed to lose the thread of what he was about to say.
“Is the embodiment of the people,” Kramer continued for him, “each being required to act in its interests. But let’s keep it simple.”
The Colonel humphed. “By all means, Tromp! By all means! What you’re going to say to me now is that this hangman bloke is just doing our job for us. And who are we to complain when he does it so nicely?”
“Not us, sir-the state.”
“My apologies.”
“I’d not actually taken it that far, though,” said Kramer. “I was looking at it in very practical terms, and just trying to see why he ever thought this was necessary. Never mind for the moment how he learned the tricks of his trade, or where he’s got his gallows; that can all come later.”
“Certainly! Who’s in a rush?”
“In each of the cases we know something about,” Kramer persisted, wanting himself to hear how it sounded, “the law-or the state-was not in a position to exact its due penalty. Rossouw’s is a prime example of the spirit of the law being defeated by the letter.”
“Hmmm. And what about the two cases we’ve nothing on? Do we conveniently overlook them meantime?”
“Hell, no! They give us all the more reason to believe that the state couldn’t act-simply because, ipso facto, it has remained in ignorance of the offenses committed!”
“Aha,” said the Colonel, bending to tickle the yard cat under her chin. “How are things with you, Ilahle, my girlie?”
“Look, sir-how many times have you known for an absolute fact that some bugger is guilty, only you haven’t been able to produce one bit of evidence to prove it?”
“Hoo!”
Evidently, the point Kramer was making had at last been handsomely conceded, and he sat back to await a more intelligent response, picking up the yard cat’s kitten as he did so. This was presumably Little Ilahle, as it too looked like a shiny lump of coal. They rubbed noses.
“I fully appreciate,” grunted Colonel Muller, “the importance of trying to form some idea of what’s going on, but you’re forcing things to fit. Do you see what I mean?”
By puffing air out of alternate corners of his mouth, Kramer-who otherwise felt undeflatable-made the kitten blink and shake its head.
“Ach, no, Tromp! I’m being serious, man! In what way would the state have been thwarted if this bloke of yours had reported Tollie’s whereabouts to us? We’d have nailed the bastard without any further assistance-correct?”
“But that’s presuming my ‘bloke’ did him for the bank job. Like I said yesterday, when we found the money, it might have been some other aspect of his past catching up. Christ, we’d had him in on suspicion often enough! Remember that unsolved shooting at the Wartburg garage?”
For a while, only the yard cat said anything. Then Kramer, who had talked his way into a clarity of thought, found himself becoming impatient with the Colonel’s apparent failure to grasp the situation. It wasn’t as if much imagination was required: the gallows provided, as it were, a ready-made and familiar framework of logic into which, sooner or later, everything must surely fit. You could no more dismiss the inherent premise of crime and punishment than you could try and call the bloody thing a weapon; it just wouldn’t work.
“I was wondering,” murmured Colonel Muller, “why Ringo had turned state evidence.”
“Hey?”
“When those two first appeared for remand, they stood every chance of acquittaclass="underline" the prosecution’s case had holes in it a mile wide. I thought Ringo must have changed his mind in order to pass the buck on to Vasari, just on the off chance that things went wrong, but that doesn’t make sense anymore-not since I’ve read through the docket you brought up from Durban. That’s the trouble with these petty cases that are over quick-the newspapers don’t give you enough details. Did you yourself follow it at the time?”