Dark Intent (2 page)

N
ear the Kruger Reserve, Republic of South Africa

A day after Smith spoke to David Staples, Krige received a telephone call on his farm. The man introduced himself as Johan Teichmann and said he was one of the leaders in the group.

Teichmann
did not waste time on pleasantries. ‘I would like to meet you. I have something to say. It is between you and me and I suggest White River.’

Krige was quiet for moment and then reluctantly agreed.
He was curious. ‘I can meet you tomorrow,’ he said. ‘There is a large café in the centre of town. I will get a table opposite the door. I’ll wear a navy blue blazer.’

‘I’ll recognize you anyway,’ said
Teichmann. ‘I’ve seen photographs of you.’

Krige
terminated the call.

The next morning Krige met
Teichmann in the town café. No one else was there.

After ordering coffee,
Teichmann went to the reason for the meeting. ‘I know you, Richter and Koch went to Durban to retrieve the file from Andrew Cartwright. Cartwright was killed, by you I believe. Richter and Koch had refused to accompany you to Cartwright’s. They lost their nerve and decided to return to Pretoria without you. That was bad behaviour and I have heard they hated the sight of you.’

‘I told them to wait for me
and that I wanted to do the job alone. We agreed they would wait for me where the main road out of Durban begins. When I got there they had gone. In many ways that was great. We despised one another. It was down to class and they had none.’

Teichmann
grinned, his mouth a rictus. He said: ‘I have been led to believe you did not get the file from Cartwright. Perhaps you killed him before he could tell you where it was kept. After hearing the facts I conclude that either the file is still concealed in the house or someone else came along after you had left and found it. If there was someone else, we have absolutely no knowledge of his name or identity. My feeling is that there definitely was an outsider who got the file and who has since systematically killed the people involved in the operation. Muller, Richter, Koch and Bryant were, I believe, all killed by this man and we in the group are certain he was the stranger seen on your farm and wounded by one of my predecessor’s men. Unfortunately, the wound did not stop him from escaping. You are the only one who survived his rampant taste for killing and I don’t know why he spared you, except that you were of his breed and he liked you.’ Teichmann swallowed a large mouthful of coffee and then said: ‘The reason we believe it was the outsider who took the original file is that a copy was sent to the group a day ago. This means the stranger has the original.’

Krige
realized the group were playing in the dark and merely skimming the surface. They would know as much as he knew if they had more information, which they weren’t going to get. Crucially, he had not told the group that Steiner had asked him for the file when he was in his lounge on the farm. The fact Steiner did ask for the file meant he knew he had retrieved it from the safe. Steiner also knew he had not killed Cartwright and he accused him of doing the killing. He did not deny the accusation and confirmed his guilt.

Teichmann
waited a short while after making his statement about the file being sent to the group and then changed the subject. ‘You are probably aware that it is group policy to hunt down the men who committed heinous crimes during the apartheid period against whites. It is well known these men escaped prosecution and conviction and now have positions of power in government, the security services and business. They run the country which belonged to us.’ Teichmann looked straight at Krige. ‘You might have heard of the black file, entitled State Security 1960 to Present, File B. It was developed through years of research and development and, like the white file, State Security 1960 to Present, File A, contains details of blacks who are guilty of major crimes against humanity. This file is a mirror image of the stolen white file in terms of structure, except that the white file was prepared to protect white leaders. Conversely, the black file was created to convict blacks who brutally and violently opposed the state. The file has four men in the top ten who are amongst the most reviled men ever to draw breath. One of the men is a self-proclaimed Zulu warlord, Moses Shozi. How he got the name Moses I will never know. The other three were in exile and returned to South Africa a few years after apartheid was abolished. They are Xhosa guerrillas and amongst the most despised of men; details of their activities makes you puke. All four men are in KwaZulu-Natal. The Zulu lives there permanently and is a member of the National Council of Provinces. The Xhosas are apparently just passing through, most likely on their way to greatness, but they spend most of the time in KwaZulu-Natal.’

Teichmann
breathed deeply. He was in his late sixties, tall and overweight. Krige sat quietly, at first wandering what all this had to do with him and then slowly realizing Teichmann wanted him to do something for the group that involved the blacks.

Teichmann
went on. ‘These men are pure killers and they deserve to be eliminated. If the government can’t do it then others have to. After the excellent work you did in Durban the group wants you to take on the job of getting rid of these four. For support you would be accompanied by a man we trust. He is highly capable and well endowed both mentally and physically. In other words he is no slouch and will back you all the way unlike Richter and Koch. His name is John Dalton.’

Krige was cold when he said:
‘The group gave me their word I would not be asked to do any of their dirty work again. And now you’re breaking it.’

‘You have the ability,’ said
Teichmann, confident that with persistence he would get Krige to comply. ‘There are few like you and a selection process takes time. We don’t want anyone else. After the demise of the blacks there will be extensive press coverage and black and white will rejoice and wish the state had done its job. The world has no place for them and they are the same as the brutal dictators controlling African states and other countries.’

‘Why don’t you let the law play its part and arrest these men?’ said Krige.
‘It would leave the group out of a nasty business and allow them to run a viable political party.’

‘We do not believe
the evidence that would convict them is easily found, if it can be found at all,’ said Teichmann. ‘After years of analysis and research the group has the evidence in detail and it is this stuff that is referred to in the black file. Excerpts from this file will be released when these men die and put the government and investigative agencies to shame. All confidence in them will be lost and, in their humiliation, will realize they have to get their act together. People will be made painfully aware the deeds perpetrated by these men are rife and this country could easily lapse into civil war.’

One side of Krige could see why
the group had created the two files in such detail and wanted revenge against blacks who had taken their country from them. The other side was that the Truth and Reconciliation Commission had, under Archbishop Desmond Tutu, done the best it could, including convicting and prosecuting hard criminals who had applied for amnesty but were refused. It was time for the country to move on, even if the criminals from the past, blacks and whites, still remained free. But, all this did not help him and his fear was that he would be asked again, as Teichmann had just done. He said: ‘I still can’t understand why you ask me when you must have other men. And, what assurance do I have that I will not be asked again?’

‘Leadership in
the group has changed,’ said Teichmann patiently. ‘The men you knew are either dead, like Muller, or have been sidelined, like Gerrit Viljoen. They would not have asked you again. But, in answer to the first, I repeat that you have exceptional operational qualities and the innate ability of a leader. I am not surprised that as an ex-major in the now defunct Johannesburg murder and robbery squad you have acquired such attributes.’ Teichmann scratched his cheek. ‘In answer to the second I cannot control some of the men in the group, men at my level, and if you refuse they will not forget and will come after you. I cannot offer a guarantee they will not approach you again, but I would do everything I could to deter them.’

‘Why are you a member of
the group?’ asked Krige.

‘I believe that most of the top men are very intelligent and capable
, and share a strong interest in the welfare of the Afrikaner people. There are those I disagree with and asking you to do this work again goes against me. But, cooperation is often necessary to make organizations effective.’

‘At my expense,’ said Krige, without humour.
He thought about what Teichmann had said and realized he had no choice. It was as before when he had been asked to get Cartwright. ‘I need Dalton’s contact details, particularly his telephone numbers. From you I want details of the men, their habits, what they have committed in the past, photographs, their backgrounds, a pattern of their movements past and present. I want precise details of where they live, who they see if anyone, their contacts and their daily routine. Throw in anything else you can think of which might assist us. I want all this information to be sent to me by courier. That shouldn’t take more than two days. As soon as I get it I will contact Dalton and get ready to move. We will use his car and it must have Natal plates. I will drive for part of the way and give him the time to read the stuff you send me. I also want Dalton to bring along a rifle, a Winchester chambered for a 7mm Remington magnum cartridge. He will need a handgun and I want a Beretta 93R 9mmx19 Luger/Parabellum pistol. The three guns must be silenced. I want no more contact from you. When the job is done, I will contact you by telephone.’

‘I will do
what you ask,’ said Teichmann. ‘The information you want will be sent to you in two days. Be careful in how you deal with these men. They are some of the most dangerous men ever to walk on South African soil and they are natural killers.’ Teichmann got up and with a brief smile left the café. Krige stayed for a few minutes more and then left.

Krige’s farm

Two days after meeting
Teichmann, Krige was on the verandah with his wife Kirsty when a van drove up to the house. It was an express courier service and Krige waited calmly for the driver to take a slim, A4 envelope from the van and approach him. He wanted identification and when he had gone, Kirsty looked curiously at the envelope.

‘What’s t
hat?’ she asked. ‘You seem to have been expecting something.’

‘It’s just some routine reports from t
he Farmers’ Cooperative,’ said Krige.

‘I’ve never seen you get them before,’ she said, unconvinced.
‘Open the envelope and let me see what they are up to now. I’m interested. Why do they use a courier?’

‘It’s usually pretty boring stuff,’ said Krige, wishing she had not been there.
‘I’ll show you later.’

Kirsty suspected
the delivery had nothing to do with the Cooperative but decided to wait and see if her husband kept his word.

Kri
ge was keen to read the papers sent to him by Teichmann and make a start on the job. It was early in the morning the next day, just after sunrise, and he extracted the contents from the envelope. They comprised a number of pages neatly structured to form a composite document and he began reading it on the verandah. He had nearly got through what he thought was a very comprehensive piece of work, when Kirsty appeared. It was forty-five minutes before she usually got up.

She stood in the doorway and said:
‘What are you reading? Is it that the stuff you received yesterday? You said you would show it to me.’ She walked closer.

Krige stopped reading, ordered the papers
and folded them over. He knew he again had to lie and hope she believed him. ‘The papers are not from the Cooperative,’ he said. ‘They cover the details of a business deal I might get involved with. I have to go to Pretoria for a few days to see these people. When I get back I’ll let you know what it is all about. We could be onto something good.’

She looked at him in disbelief.
‘Why can’t you tell me before you go? And, when are you going?’

‘Probably tomorrow,’ he said.
‘I want to go and get back here as soon as I can.’

‘I hope you are telling me the truth this time
and not going on another operation for the group.’ She couldn’t help being suspicious. ‘You lied to me then and I don’t want your lies now. Those men are evil and I don’t want you near them.’

‘I am certainly n
ot involved with them,’ he said, compounding the lies. ‘Last time was something I got into, after they put pressure on me to retrieve the file that had been stolen from them and sent to a Durban lawyer. I got the file but the copy sent to the DSO by David Staples went astray and it is up to the DSO to find it. The DSO want him to make another copy but for security reasons he will not. One copy has already disappeared and he does not want copies flying about all over the place.’

‘Someone killed Cartwright,’ she said.
‘I hope it wasn’t you.’

‘It wasn’t me even though that was implied by
James Steiner. He wasn’t there and has no idea who shot Cartwright.’ Krige refrained from saying Richter and Koch had not gone to the house on that fatal night. If she knew she would instantly conclude he had done the killing.

She mellowed a little and said:
‘I am glad those thugs, Richter, Koch and Muller, got what they deserved. If the group were civilized men, with respect for the human race and did not behave like the old Nationalist Party that used to rule this country, I would not despise them so much. They deserve death. She did not mention Steiner and that he had killed Richter and Koch; to her he was in a different class. She wished she could see him now.

‘I have to trust you or our relationship is finished,’ she said
with finality. ‘Go to Pretoria and sort out your business. I can run the farm for a few days. We have good men. You must phone me.’

‘I will,’ said Krige.
‘I am beginning to think it will be a waste of time. I can’t say it really interests me. Let’s have breakfast. I want to go to town for essentials.’

Krige reached town at ei
ght and parked his Land Rover near the public telephone box. He fished in his pocket and took out Dalton’s number. He had Teichmann’s papers with him when he dialled. In less than a minute a woman answered and he asked for Dalton. He soon heard Dalton’s voice.

Krige introduced himsel
f. ‘I have received the information from Teichmann.’

Dalton listened quietly.

‘You can read it in the car on the way,’ said Krige. ‘I will drive for the first part. We can meet here in the town cafe tomorrow morning at nine.’

‘I’ll be there,’ said Dalton.

Krige cut the call and crossed the road to the general store. He had to return with something.

While Krige
was in town, Kirsty noticed the envelope sent to her husband had gone. She let it pass and felt she had said what was on her mind. She knew she would not find out any more without a fight.

That evening Krige said he was leaving early the next morning.
He looked at her on the sofa. ‘I assure you there is nothing devious going on. The deal is simply something I want to look into. If we agree to it, I think it will benefit both of us.’