Dark Intent (25 page)

Near Pretoria

At seven-fifteen that evening John Kallis put on his jacket and removed a silenced Ruger P85 9mmx19 Luger/Parabellum semi-automatic pistol from the draw in his desk.
The weapon was fully loaded with a fifteen-cartridge magazine and he stuffed it, with the silencer fixed in position, behind his belt above the hip. After making sure the gun was covered by his jacket he left the flat and went down the two flights of stairs to the basement car-park. In his car he started the V8 engine and crawled up the exit ramp to the street outside. He turned left and in ten minutes filtered into the main road that, in a little under five kilometres, passed near the bar where he expected Bosch to arrive at eight.

After twenty minutes at the wheel Kallis finally saw the bar and restaurant some 500 metres from the main road.
He took the nearest turn-off and then drove steadily until he reached the building. He swung through the gate of the car-park and after looking around parked as far as he could go from the entrance, carefully ensuring the area behind him was relatively free from other cars. He turned off the engine, reclined his seat slightly and waited for Bosch to appear.

Several minutes after eight, when Kallis was beginning to wonder if Bosch was going to show, a large, silver 350S Mercedes Benz entered the car-park.
Kallis watched the car do a circle and then park near the exit. He knew it was Rupert Bosch and as soon as the lights and engine were switched off he left his car. He walked down a line of vehicles to within a few metres of his target and halted, watching like a hawk.

When the door of the Mercedes opened, Kallis made his move.
In four giant paces he was alongside Bosch, positioning himself to prevent the door from being closed. Bosch looked up at him, not believing he was again seeing Kallis’s leering face.

‘What do you want?’ he said harshly, placing his hands on the wheel.
‘Our business is over.’

‘No it isn’t,’ said Kallis.
‘You have become greedy and you want the files for yourself.’

‘What about you?’ said Bosch, regaining a measure of the confidence he had felt before the appearance of Kallis, a man he detested.
‘You’re no angel.’

‘I know,’ said Kallis, ‘but that’s what makes life interesting.’
He briefly looked around, drawing the pistol smoothly from behind his belt. ‘I’m afraid you’re a nuisance I can do without.’

Before Bosch grasped the deadly meaning of the words, Kallis fired twice, hitting him between his eyes and killing him.
His hands continued to hold the wheel as his head fell forwards onto them, his glazed, lifeless eyes still looking at Kallis.

Kallis reclined the seat as far as it would go and, freeing Bosch’s hands, heaved the torso backwards into a resting position.
He pulled it over a bit towards him, partly hiding the head behind the roof pillar, and closed the door. Anyone passing the Mercedes would with the usual glance think Bosch was sleeping off too many drinks before driving. Satisfied, Kallis walked to his car, got in and drove through the exit onto the road. He turned left and started on the route he had used earlier when coming to the bar.

As he neared the city perimeter, Kallis was tempted to call in at Dalton’s smallholding to see if he was there, but he thought against it and carried on to his flat.
He had decided he would not let Kisty know he was involved in her abduction unless necessity prevailed.

When Kallis reached the building where he had his flat, he parked his car and used the fire escape to go up to it.
In the lounge he seated himself, poured a double Scotch and dialled the number of Dalton’s cell phone.

Dalton answered and was pleased this time to hear Kallis’s voice.

‘Did you get him?’ he asked. ‘I was wondering how you were getting on.’

‘He won’t be looking for group files again,’ said Kallis.
‘He might still be resting in his car. How’s the girl?’

‘She’s alright,’ said Dalton.
‘Obviously she doesn’t like being forcibly abducted but I’ve told her she will be released as soon as we get what we want.’

‘Don’t build up her hopes too high,’ said Kallis.
‘If I decide she poses too much of a risk to be released, I might have to think again.’

‘You wouldn’t kill her?’ said Dalton, in disbelief.
‘What kind of risk would she present when she’s free? You would have what the group wants and be beyond reproach. No one would be able to prove she was abducted.’

‘I told you I would think about it when the time comes,’ said Kallis.
‘Let’s forget about it for the moment. Did you mention my name?’

‘No,’ said Dalton.

‘Good,’ said Kallis. ‘Leave it like that. Keep her in the dark.’

‘What are you going to do now?’ asked Dalton.

‘I’m going into the next phase,’ said Kallis, cryptically. ‘Your work on this job will soon be over. Just make sure the girl has what she needs. I’ll ring you tomorrow.’

Before Dalton could sa
y any more Kallis cut the call.

After Kallis put down his phone he knew that if there was any chance of Kirsty Krige positively naming him as the man behind her abduction and revealing anything that went against him before he had decided what to do with the files, he would have to silence her for good.
He also thought about John Dalton and he was beginning to realize he was also a potential threat. If Dalton wanted the files for himself he could effectively nullify Kallis by threatening to reveal he had been forced by Kallis to abduct the girl, an action not sanctioned by Teichmann, and that Kallis had killed Bosch, also not approved by Teichmann.

But before giving these issues more thought, Kallis had decided
that the next phase, as he’d described it to Dalton, was to pay a visit to Krige’s lawyer David Staples. If, after that visit, he didn’t get the white file he would go for Krige.

Near Pretoria

An hour before Kirsty Krige was abducted by Dalton, James Steiner left the house they were sharing and drove into Pretoria.
He needed to buy some clothes and go to the bank. From what he had seen he liked Pretoria as a city and he was in no hurry to get back to the house. Kirsty was there if Bosch phoned, which was becoming less likely by the minute, and he felt she needed some time alone to help build her confidence. She was clearly dispirited by the slow pace of things and sometimes she told him that they were getting nowhere. He sympathised with her, knowing her broken relationship with Krige only compounded things. He tried to reassure her by saying that preparing a plan of action and patience were the foundations in all successful operations, particularly the one in which they were involved, with its multiple protagonists.

At seven in the early evening Steiner returned to the house.
As he drove down the driveway to the small building he was a little surprised to see there were no lights on when it was already starting to get dark. He parked in his usual place at the rear next to Kirsty’s car and entered the house through the kitchen door, making enough sound for Kirsty to know he was there. But she didn’t show and after taking a quick look in the bathroom and bedrooms he went to the lounge. She wasn’t there either and for the first time he started to become worried. After a closer look around the house he could find no sign of any unusual disturbance. He was now uneasy because her car had not been moved, the house was unlocked, when they always locked it before going out, and the surrounding countryside was not inspiring enough for her to have gone for a walk. These factors implied she had left under force.

He returned to the lounge and sat down, suddenly remembering her cell phone.
He was about to call the number when he noticed the house phone message light flashing. He sprang towards it, pressed the button and at once heard Kisty’s message. It was the only one and he felt a chill go down his spine. He replaced the receiver. She was in real danger. He thought of the name Dalton and soon realized that Kirsty had mentioned his name previously. It came from her conversation with John Kallis when he had said Jan Krige had gone with John Dalton to eliminate the blacks in KwaZulu at the behest of Teichmann in the group.

After going through the main people linked to the missing files, Steiner concluded Dalton was not working alone and he had abducted Kirsty for Krige, Kallis or Teichmann.
He immediately ruled out Krige and doubted Teichmann would get directly involved in abducting her. That left Kallis but Dalton had to be dealt with first because it was highly likely he was guarding Kirsty, until Kallis decided what to do with her. Now that he had received the message, Steiner decided against phoning Kirsty on her cell phone because if she was with Dalton he would immediately remove it, if he had not already done so. Neither did he want Dalton to answer the phone. But to tackle Dalton, he had to know how to find him, and that meant paying Teichmann a visit.

Steiner phoned the group.
A night porter picked up the phone and when he asked for Teichmann he was told he had left. He asked for Teichmann’s home number and it was not available. There was no alternative other than wait until the morning.

Early the next morning Steiner again phoned the group and asked for Teichmann.
He was connected and after a few rings Teichmann answered.

‘Teichmann.
Who is calling?’

‘You don’t know me,’ said Steiner, ‘but I would like to see you urgently.
I have something to say concerning the files that I’m sure would be of great interest to you.’

As predicted, Teichmann was very interested.
‘Who do you work for?’

‘I am working independently,’ said Steiner.
‘That will be clearer when we meet.’

‘What do you have in mind?’ asked Teichmann.
‘I can meet you in thirty minutes. You could come to my house. There’s no one there.’

‘That suits me,’ said Steiner.
‘What’s the address?’

Teichmann gave him the address, glad Steiner didn’t mince words.
‘I’ll see you there.’ He replaced the receiver and minutes later left his office.

Steiner left for Pretoria and Teichmann’s house soon after the call.
As well as the address, Teichmann had given him general directions once he reached the city and had told him the house was very near the university on the west side. With his existing knowledge of Pretoria, he had a good idea where that would be.

Ten minutes after coming to the outskirts of Pretoria, Steiner came to the road he wanted.
He drove slowly up it, noting the numbers, and when he was in front of the house he cut the engine and went through the gate up to the front door. The building was one of the most impressive he had seen and after pressing the bell Teichmann appeared, still dressed in his suit. They greeted one another and Teichmann led him through the entrance hall into a study. He closed the door and when he was seated he looked intently at Steiner.

‘Now what is your name?’ he asked.
‘I can’t talk to someone whose name I don’t know.’

‘James Steiner.
I am sure you haven’t heard of me.’

‘You are right, I haven’t,’ said Teichmann.
‘With that out of the way tell me how you know about the files and your connection with the group? You told me you are working independently. Does that mean you are still working for others or does it mean you are totally alone in what you are doing? I’m sure you appreciate the distinction.’

‘I was directly involved in the Cartwright case and doing the work for a senior operative in the Scorpions,’ said Steiner.
‘I was not employed by them in the strict sense of the word. I know you have people working for you in the same way.’

‘We do,’ said Teichmann, impassively.
‘They do a job and then disappear with no strings attached.’ Teichmann leant forward and stared at Steiner. ‘Are you telling me you are the unknown man in all this?’

‘You could put it like that,’ said Steiner, phlegmatically.
‘I don’t always reveal my presence.’

‘Until you kill someone,’ said Teichmann.

Steiner ignored the comment. ‘I have no connection with the group,’ he said pointedly.

Teichmann sank back into his seat, momentarily thinking about his part in the operations and the justification for his actions, issues he had gone over many times before. ‘You said you are working independently. How does that involve the files and what is your interest in them?’

‘When my work on the Cartwright case was coming to an end at Jan Krige’s farm, I briefly met his wife, Kirsty Krige,’ said Steiner. ‘After I returned to Durban she contacted me and said a black file, File B, had also been stolen from the group offices, allegedly by a man named Rupert Bosch, and that both files, the white file, File A, and the black file, had not been found.’ Steiner deliberately did not say a copy of the white file had been sent to by Krige to the DSO because Teichmann didn’t know Krige had retrieved it from Cartwright’s house. He had to be careful in how he got what he wanted from Teichmann.

‘Who was keeping her informed?’ asked Teichmann. ‘It wouldn’t have been her husband.’

‘John Kallis,’ said Steiner. ‘He went to her hotel.’ Things were getting going. ‘I’m sure you know him.’

‘I do,’ said Teichmann.
‘He is directly involved in finding the stolen files. Now will you tell me your personal interest in the files?’

‘I’m coming to that,’ said Steiner, keeping his eyes on Teichmann.
‘Do you trust Kallis?’

‘What the hell is this?’ said Teichmann.
‘You get me all the way out here without telling me what you want and then ask me if I trust one of my agents.’

‘Trust me,’ said Steiner patiently.
‘You will soon understand the reason for the question.’

‘I’m not sure,’ said Teichmann, candidly.

‘Kirsty Krige has been abducted and I believe Kallis is behind it,’ said Steiner. ‘To be more precise, he instructed John Dalton to do the dirty work. You will remember he is the person you sent to KwaZulu-Natal with Krige to kill four blacks.’

Teichmann paled under his tan.
Steiner had the uncanny ability to squeeze where it caused pain. ‘How do you know?’ he asked, regaining a measure of composure.

‘I found her missing from her house an hour ago.
She left a message saying Dalton had her and asking me to help. For that reason I am here. The files are of no real importance to me.’

Teichmann was not sure he believed what Steiner said about the files.
They were important to anyone who knew about them. ‘What do want from me?’ he said. He felt he had to show he was concerned for the woman before finding out anything more Steiner could tell him. There had to be more.

‘Does Dalton work for the group?’ said Steiner.
‘If he does, is he there now?’

‘He works for us,’ said Teichmann.
‘I didn’t see him before I left this morning. I know he took yesterday off.’

‘I’m not surprised,’ said Steiner.
‘He must find abducting women quite demanding. I would like you to give me the address and phone numbers of his home and any other place where he might be staying. That also goes for Kallis. Do you have the details here?’

‘I’ll get them,’ said Teichmann, getting up.
He walked over to a desk, consulted a thin folder and wrote briefly on a sheet of paper. He returned to his seat and handed it over to Steiner. ‘You’ll find the information on that including this number and that of my cell phone.’

‘Thank you,’ said Steiner, running his eyes down the sheet before folding it and putting it into an inside pocket in his blazer.
He looked at Teichmann. ‘So Dalton has only one address and he is single. Do you know the colour and make of car he drives and can you give me a brief description of him?’

‘He drives a three-year-old light blue Ford sedan and he is about five-eleven, well built, not particularly good looking, and with
dark hair worn in a crew cut.’

‘Just my type,’ said Steiner.
‘Finally, I don’t want you to tell anyone about this visit. That includes my name and what we spoke about. I will deal with Dalton and Kallis.’

‘Before you go I have something to tell you,’ said Teichmann.
‘Yesterday afternoon Jan Krige’s lawyer, David Staples, was shot dead at his home. The killer hasn’t been caught but a dark green Land Rover that needed a wash was seen parked near the house at about the time Staples died. It wasn’t there for long and it is unusual to see any vehicle that is not a limousine in that neighbourhood.’

‘Krige,’ said Steiner.

‘I came to the same conclusion,’ said Teichmann. ‘Also, it appeared Staples had been working on Krige’s divorce papers. It’s not much but I doubt it was a coincidence and to me that means Krige must have been there.’

Steiner had been hoping to get something about group progress in locating the files and what he had just heard was totally unexpected.
‘Have you got anything else?’ he said, half-joking.

‘Yes,’ said Teichmann.
‘When you hear it you won’t forget this meeting.’

‘Go on,’ said Steiner, listening intently.

‘This morning, half-an-hour before you phoned I had a call from someone telling me that Rupert Bosch was found dead in his car. It was not a case of drink driving. He was slumped over the wheel in the car park of a bar on the coast road, five kilometres from the city. He had been shot twice in the head.’

Steiner stared at nothing in particular.
Then he faced Teichmann. ‘Do you know who killed him?’

‘I have an idea,’ said Teichmann.
‘But I wouldn’t be surprised if you told me.’

‘I think it was John Kallis,’ said Steiner.

‘Why him?’ asked Teichmann.

‘I am reasonably sure Rupert Bosch stole the file to give to Kallis because he had some sort of hold on him,’ said Steiner.

‘What was that?’

‘I seem to be doing all the talking,’ said Steiner.
‘I am not really interested and I must find Kirsty Krige before Dalton does something to her.’

‘You are interested,’ said Teichmann.
‘Obviously you are pretty sure she won’t be harmed otherwise you would have bolted out of here when I gave you Dalton’s address.’ He rubbed his cheek and studied Steiner closely. ‘You still haven’t answered my earlier question which I will repeat. Why are you interested in the files?’

‘I have a reason for that,’ said Steiner.
‘And, it is not financial.’

‘Evasive as ever,’ said Teichmann smiling.
‘Now I’ll tell you where I’m coming from. I am convinced Krige, who I also asked to go after the files, and Kallis want the files for financial gratification. They have no intention of ever returning them to the group.’

‘They are nearly there,’ said Steiner.
‘Kallis has the black file and Krige lied when he said he had failed to retrieve the white file from Cartwright’s house. The blame you and your friends in the group pinned on the outsider was clearly wrong because if I had it I wouldn’t be standing here now. Krige has the white file in his possession. He gave it to Staples when he returned from Durban but Staples didn’t have it when he died. Krige wouldn’t have killed him unless he had access to where Staples kept it, unlikely, or that he already had it.’