Blind Eye: The Terrifying Story of a Doctor Who Got Away With Murder (37 page)

Thus, continuing reports about Swango’s activities paradoxically seemed to strengthen the sense that he was a victim of antiwhite prejudice. This was reinforced by Swango’s demeanor, his enthusiasm for practicing medicine, the care that he bestowed on his patients. The other doctors at Mpilo trusted their own judgment as to medical matters, and those who were white feared that the same prejudice that had apparently been aimed at Swango might easily be turned against them. Thus, other pieces of a puzzle for which the solution would later seem obvious made little or no impression on them—even the sudden rise in unexplained deaths at Mpilo that coincided with Swango’s move into the hospital.

One of Lorimer’s patients was a man in his late thirties who needed emergency surgery for an incarcerated hernia (a dangerous condition in which the herniated tissue cannot be pushed back into place). The patient was brought into the operating room at two
A.M
. and Lorimer had completed the surgery two hours later. The procedure posed no complications; indeed, Lorimer thought it had gone exceedingly well. At five
A.M
. the patient was dead. Swango wasn’t involved with the patient, but he was in the hospital that night and, along with Lorimer, expressed bafflement at the sudden death. A postmortem was conducted, but no cause of death could be established.

A few days later, a patient was admitted with burns to the esophagus and stomach; he had swallowed hydrochloric acid in an apparent suicide attempt. He was placed on a fluid diet and, a week later, seemed to be recovering. Lorimer decided that a feeding tube
should be inserted through a small incision in the abdomen, just below the stomach. It was a simple operation, and Lorimer had Swango assist him. The surgery was uneventful, and the patient seemed fine. Three days after the tube was inserted, the patient died. Again, no cause of death could be established.

Several other doctors found similar mysterious deaths among their patients, but in the rush of hospital life, and with the hospital so understaffed, no one compared notes or spotted a pattern. But finally Dr. Cotton raised a concern. A fourteen-year-old boy had been admitted to intensive care after suffering an auto accident. Swango was on duty when the teenager was admitted, and treated him. Indeed, trauma injuries were one of Swango’s few strong areas of practice, and he’d recently been credited with saving the life of another teenager injured in a similar accident. Cotton subsequently oversaw the boy’s progress and thought he was improving rapidly. Then the patient suddenly died.

Given the nature of the rumors from Mnene, it was perhaps inevitable that eventually Swango would be linked to the deaths at Mpilo. “I wonder if Mike was somehow involved,” Cotton mused to Lorimer after discussing the mysterious case. But the two concluded it was impossible. Hadn’t Swango just saved another teenager in similar circumstances?

Despite the problems at Mnene, the long hours at Mpilo, and his cramped living conditions, Swango himself seemed happier than ever, delighted to be back in Bulawayo. Although he had been dating a black nurse at Mpilo, he now seemed smitten by a thin, dark-haired young woman with two children, LeeAnne Payne, who had recently moved back to Bulawayo to live with her parents after separating from her husband in South Africa. He brought her to services at the Presbyterian church, introduced her to the Lorimers and Mirtles, and spent extended periods of time with her and her young children.

Swango would often speak to the Lorimers about what a difficult time LeeAnne was having. Her husband, he claimed, had been abusive, but her parents were strongly opposed to divorce and didn’t approve of her dating Swango. But neither did they seem all that pleased that she had come back to live with them, especially her father, who often complained about the children, Swango said. At
one point Swango told Lorimer that he felt so sorry for her, given what she’d been through, that he had offered to pay for some therapy for her. He asked Lorimer for the names of some psychologists or counselors who might be able to help.

Ian Lorimer wasn’t sure that LeeAnne felt as strongly about Swango as he did about her. While she was obviously shaken by the apparent failure of her marriage and needed a friend, Lorimer thought that Swango often dominated her in conversation and seemed to want to control her movements—the very kind of relationship-threatening behavior that was discussed at the Lorimers’ marriage seminars. LeeAnne mentioned this to the Lorimers on occasion, and also that Swango talked too much, a problem the Lorimers were familiar with. But these seemed minor complaints.

Much as the Lorimers enjoyed the company of Swango, they did find some of his tastes somewhat peculiar, especially for a professed Christian. On one occasion the Lorimers rented the movie
Pulp Fiction
, because Swango said it had been a popular and critical success in America and had revived John Travolta’s career. They invited Swango to watch it with them. The film was exceedingly violent and bloody, with a particularly intense sequence of sadomasochistic torture. Within ten minutes, the Lorimers were horrified and wanted to turn off the tape. But Swango was fascinated, insisted on watching, and said afterward that he loved the film.

They ascribed his enthusiasm to the fact that Swango was a film buff. He attended every film festival in Bulawayo. He seemed to know every classic movie, and devoured reviews of new films in
Time
and
Newsweek.
He watched
Twelve Angry Men
, the 1957 film about a murder trial, with the Lorimers and proclaimed it a “brilliant” film, which he’d like to see again. He was also wildly enthusiastic about two films that became available on video while he was in Bulawayo. One was
The Shawshank Redemption
, a critically acclaimed 1994 film in which a young banker is unjustly sent to prison for the murder of his wife and his wife’s lover. But his favorite, he often said, was
Four Weddings and a Funeral
, which he described with delight as a “sleeper,” a film that Hollywood hadn’t expected to do well, but that had taken the movie world by storm. Nominated along with
Shawshank Redemption
for an Academy Award for best picture, the film features Hugh Grant as a young man whose
own romance unfolds in the settings of his friends’ weddings. But for many viewers, the film’s most moving sequence concerned the sudden death and the funeral of another character.

Violence and death often surfaced one way or another in conversations with Swango. One evening Swango gave the Lorimers copies of an article he had clipped from the South African edition of
Reader’s Digest
and insisted that they read it. He continued to pester them about it until they said they had. The article, “Stalking Evil,” was an excerpt from a book by John Douglas, an FBI agent, who, the article said, did “nothing less than peer into the minds of serial killers and rapists.” Douglas had been instrumental in developing psychological profiling as a technique in solving serial crimes, and as part of his work, had interviewed numerous convicted serial killers. As Douglas wrote in the article,

It used to be that most crimes, particularly violent crimes like homicide, happened between people who knew each other, and resulted from feelings that we can all experience: anger, greed, jealousy, revenge. But these days more and more crimes are being committed by and against strangers. In recent years a dangerous type of violent criminal has become more common—the serial offender. Because their victims are strangers and their motivations are complex, serial killers and rapists are the most difficult to catch of all violent criminals.

The article surveyed a number of murders in which Douglas had been involved. While no clear psychological pattern emerged among the perpetrators, several were above average in intelligence, all but one were white, some were the children of “a domineering mother and physically abusive father,” and some had suffered chronic bed-wetting as children. And Douglas insisted that no matter how peculiar they may be, all serial killers establish a pattern that can eventually identify them: “No matter how such a serial killer throws us off his track, he’s still going to give us behavioral clues to work with, whether he intends to or not,” Douglas wrote. And, he concluded, “I learned that even the smartest, most clever criminals are vulnerable. It doesn’t matter how shrewd or experienced they
are. And it doesn’t even matter if they know about our techniques. They can all be gotten to—it’s just a matter of figuring out how.”

Ian and Cheryl read the article, found it mildly interesting, and wondered why Swango had gone to such efforts to share it with them.

Swango’s reputation at Mpilo was now so solid that on March 4, Dr. Oliver, at David Coltart’s request, wrote another glowing letter of recommendation for him, one that could be used in a suit against the Evangelical Lutheran church.

Coltart had still gotten no further explanation from the police. Eight months later, on November 16, he received a letter saying that “the docket had long since been completed” and that Swango should await the decision of the public prosecutor. But no charges were forthcoming, and a December letter went unanswered. Coltart said that Swango himself could bring matters to a head by filing suit against the church, alleging wrongful discharge. While the Lutheran church had told Coltart that under no circumstances would it re-employ Swango, he might be able to collect damages and back pay. Swango was immediately enthusiastic, saying he wanted to go forward with the suit to clear his name.

On the one hand, Swango’s reaction was reassuring, since it would have been foolhardy to proceed if there were any truth to the reports from Mnene. On the other hand, Coltart at times wondered why Swango was going to such trouble and expense in an African country that was suffering so many problems and was not, after all, his native land. Before proceeding with the suit, he felt obliged to air these concerns with his client.

“Why bother with this?” he asked Swango when the two met to go over the complaint. “Why not go back to the U.S.? You are a medical doctor. You could practice anywhere.”

But Swango insisted he loved Zimbabwe and wanted to stay. And, almost shyly, he suggested a more important reason: he had fallen in love.

F
OSTER
D
ONGOZI
, a reporter for the Bulawayo
Chronicle
, the local daily newspaper, shared an apartment with his cousin, who happened to be an orderly at Mpilo Hospital. “There’s a white expatriate doctor living in the ward,” he mentioned one evening. Dongozi
found the claim hard to believe. Why would a doctor live in the ward? But his cousin insisted it was true, so Dongozi drove out to the hospital and approached several staff members. No one wanted to talk. So Dongozi asked his cousin to check the report. This time he not only confirmed the story, but added, “It is believed he was chased from Mnene after killing people,” a story which he said was circulating widely among the hospital staff. He said the doctor’s name was Swan.

Sensing a major story, Dongozi returned to the hospital, again asking staff members if such a doctor was working there. No one would comment, but several gave him cryptic smiles, and one urged him to speak to the hospital superintendent. No one denied anything, and that suggested he was on to something. So Dongozi went to the hospital switchboard and asked the operator to page “Dr. Swan.” The operator declined, saying he thought the doctor was out. But just then, a voice said, “Did I hear someone mention my name?”

“Dr. Swan?” Dongozi asked, turning to a young blond man wearing blue corduroy trousers and a white lab coat.

“I’m Dr. Swango,” the man replied. “Can I help you?”

By this time several people had gathered in the switchboard room and were curiously looking on. Dongozi stepped out into the corridor and said, “My name is Foster Dongozi, and I’m a reporter for the
Chronicle.
” Dongozi noticed that Swango’s eye began to twitch. “I understand you are being investigated for a series of deaths at Mnene Hospital.”

Swango’s whole body began to tremble. He raised his right hand as if to ward off Dongozi, and began to back away. “I can’t answer that,” he said. “Talk to my lawyer.” He began to run down the corridor. “What’s his name?” Dongozi shouted after him.

“David Coltart.” Swango rounded a corner and disappeared.

The next day Dongozi called on Dr. Chaibva and asked him if Dr. Swango was living in the hospital. “I don’t know where he lives,” Chaibva answered.

“Is he being investigated for killing people at Mnene?”

“I don’t know that.” Chaibva was obviously uncomfortable at the questions. “I have heard stories about him, but it’s not clear what the stories are.”

“Why did you hire him?” Dongozi asked.

Chaibva shrugged. “There’s a shortage of doctors.”

Dongozi left, unsure whether he had enough for a story. But events quickly overtook him.

That same week, Swango had gone to Chaibva and asked to be paid for his work. Chaibva had said that was out of the question. He was also annoyed, since he thought Swango was reneging on their agreement. In any event, Chaibva didn’t have a discretionary fund of that kind. Now the press was asking about Swango, which meant the situation could erupt into a public scandal. Worried about his own potential exposure, Chaibva called the Ministry of Health in Harare.

News that Swango was working at another hospital in Zimbabwe came as a shock to Timothy Stamps, the minister of health and child welfare. “Stop him,” Stamps ordered Chaibva. He told him to terminate Swango’s employment immediately and remove him from the hospital’s premises. He told Chaibva what had really happened at Mnene, which left Chaibva in stunned disbelief.

Chaibva summoned Swango to his office. “Your services are no longer required,” he announced, and told him to vacate the hospital. Swango seemed resigned to the news. He shrugged and said, “Okay,” then left the office without seeking any further explanation.

The following Sunday, March 24, 1996, the
Sunday News
ran a huge front-page headline: “Ministry Dismisses Doctor.” The story began: