Whitethorn (82 page)

I must say I was completely taken aback. Here I was thinking that I was the worldly one with all my Pirrou and La Pirouette training, but I simply had no idea. I was also deeply shocked that Pissy seemed to think that the term ‘old times' somehow smoothed over what had happened at the big rock. ‘A silent partner?'

‘
Ja
, put in a bit of money, you'll get it all back pronto, man.'

‘I have to go to England, to university, to take another law degree,' I replied.

‘That's okay, man, it won't happen for another year, that's when my partner retires from his job and we still have to find a place and build the steam rooms.'

‘I'll think about it,' I lied, ‘but I must confess I have a problem.'

‘What problem? I know the business, man, you can't lose.'

‘No, Pissy, it's not that.' I hesitated, then said, ‘How do I know you'll be honest? When you have a partner you have to trust him. You know how you said it would be like old times? Well, that's my problem, I haven't forgotten what happened that day at the big rock, and then to my friend Mattress.'

‘Mattress? You mean the
kaffir
that was murdered?' Pissy looked down at the ground. ‘
Ag
, man, that was such a long time ago when we were just kids, you hear? In that place, you know yourself, it was everyone for himself.' He glanced up at me and shrugged. ‘I was only trying to survive, man. What must I say? I'm sorry?'

‘No, don't get me wrong, I don't want an apology from you. You're right, it was a long time ago and what's done is done. What you and Fonnie du Preez did to me that day at the big rock is finish and
klaar
, we both know it happened to other kids as well, that stuff happens in institutions.'

Pissy looked relieved. ‘So what is it you want?'

‘Information. I want to know the full story. I'm going to tell you what I know, and then you tell me the rest. If you do, then I'll know I can trust you.'

‘Okay, man, ask away.'

I told him about listening to him with Mevrou in the clinic while hiding in the hydrangea bushes outside the window, and how I knew he'd concocted the story of Mattress sexually abusing him. How Mevrou had believed him and her last words, or the last words I'd heard from her, were ‘that
kaffir
is already dead, you hear'. ‘Pissy, what happened when Mevrou took you to Meneer Prinsloo and they called Doctor Van Heerden to examine you?'

My memory is pretty good but Pissy Vermaak's was truly remarkable. In an earlier part I've already told you what he said transpired, right down to the funny bit when Doctor Van Heerden tried to take a snap of Pissy's bruised anus using Meneer Prinsloo's box brownie with Mevrou holding a torch. As Pissy recounted what happened I thought to myself what a brilliant student he would have been if he'd had a Miss Phillips in his life and been given the same opportunities I'd had.

‘Okay, after the doctor had gone, what happened then?' I asked.

Pissy explained how Frikkie Botha was called in. This time I had the notes I'd made from Frikkie's painfully written evidence over more than five years, so I'd know if Pissy was lying. But again he recalled everything just the way Frikkie had written it down.

‘One last question, when you and Fonnie were present was there any discussion, threat, implication or suggestion that Mattress might be dealt with, other than reporting him to Sergeant Van Niekerk?'

‘How do you mean?' Pissy replied, not understanding my question. ‘Meneer Prinsloo gave Frikkie permission to go three rounds with him in the boxing ring?'

‘
Ja
, not that, some other threat. In the clinic Mevrou said “that
kaffir
is already dead, you hear”. Was there anything else like that said in your presence, any further threat made to kill him?'

Pissy shook his head. ‘No, man, just that Frikkie wanted to teach the
kaffir
a lesson before they handed him over to the police.' Recalling the incident, he laughed. ‘Only he ended up himself with a broken jaw. That was one tough
kaffir
, hey?'

It seemed now almost certain that Mevrou had acted on her own. To an Afrikaner woman the sexual assault by an African of a child of her own kind would be the vilest crime she could possibly imagine. In her mind, death, violent and slow, was the only possible penalty and she'd have had little trouble persuading her six brothers to murder Mattress. She'd simply reacted the way her people had dealt with such problems for the last 300 years. I also had Frikkie's evidence that the Van Schalkwyk brothers had admitted murdering the
kaffir
when they'd been together in the
Stormjaers
, the seven-man Nazi-inspired sabotage cell when, during the war, they'd attempted unsuccessfully to blow up the railway culvert to derail a troop train. Frikkie, you will remember, sustained his terrible injuries and the six Van Schalkwyk brothers had run away and left him to die. By telling me they'd admitted to him that they'd murdered Mattress, Frikkie was hoping to exact revenge for what they'd done to him. With good behaviour the life sentences given to the six Van Schalkwyk brothers could be reduced to fifteen years, which meant they could be out in three years. If this happened I wanted to be ready for them. It was a promise I'd made to myself, at first as a small child half-consciously; it was also one I'd made to Frikkie Botha. It was also my major motivation to study law.

‘There's something else I haven't told you,
Voetsek
,' Pissy said.

‘What's that?'

‘The bruises the doctor looked at and took the snap, they weren't only from Fonnie du Preez.'

‘What do you mean? That's why he went to the reformatory in Pretoria. He also pissed on you and you performed fellatio on him.'

‘
Ja
, the last two, but he wasn't the only one who fucked my arse or I sucked off.'

‘Who else? It wasn't Mattress?'

He looked at me slyly. ‘Can't you guess, hey?'

‘Not Frikkie Botha?' I asked, looking surprised.

‘No, man, I already told you he was straight.'

‘Who then?' I said, relieved.

Pissy seemed to be enjoying himself. ‘Meneer Prinsloo!'

‘
What
? Meneer Prinsloo was sexually assaulting you? You were ten years old, for fuck's sake!'

‘
Ja
, I know, it hurt a lot. It happened one Sunday when I'd had a fit the day before and I was in the sick room on my own because Mevrou was visiting her farm. Meneer Prinsloo came in to see me, and then it happened. After that it was every Sunday in the sick room after we came back from church and everyone had to work in the vegetable gardens and the orchards and there wasn't anybody around the hostel. Remember, I was always too sickly to go with you guys.'

The cruel, sanctimonious, sycophantic, Bible-bashing, hypocritical heap of excrement was also a paedophile. ‘You poor little bastard, you never had a chance, did you?' I cried.

Pissy shrugged. ‘
Ag
,
Voetsek
, it's easy to feel sorry for yourself in life.' He looked directly at me. ‘You know what it's like, man. You were there. You an orphan. You haven't got any parents, a mother and a father, nobody loves you, you just a piece of shit. Then somebody powerful who can give you things and make life easier comes along.' He paused and looked down at his feet. ‘If you a piece of shit anyway, what have you got to lose?' He looked up again. ‘It was only on a Sunday.'

‘Pissy, you were just a little kid, that fat bastard was committing a crime. Look, if Fonnie du Preez was buggering you, that's pretty bad, but it's two kids maybe experimenting, that kind of thing happens in institutions all the time. But Prinsloo
knew
he was sexually assaulting a minor,
knew
he was committing a crime.
Knew
he was destroying your life. Look, I'm a lawyer, you can still lay charges against him whenever you like, I'll help you mount the case.'

Pissy looked horrified. ‘No way, man!'

‘What do you mean? He's a fucking paedophile! He ought to go to prison!'

‘Bullshit!' Pissy cried suddenly. ‘Whoa!
Voetsek
, not so fast, man. He was kind to me, he said he loved me like his own son that he didn't have because “the Lord hadn't blessed him with issue”. He brought me sweets, even sometimes a whole Nestlé chocolate. You yourself know what such a thing meant. It was Christmas every Sunday. Nobody was kind to me before.' He stopped suddenly and took a breath. ‘Even then when I was only ten, I knew I was different. Later on I understood that I was a homosexual in my blood, from birth maybe. He said I could call him
Oom
Piet, and he'd be like a father to me.'

‘A father doesn't fuck his ten-year-old son!' I shouted angrily. ‘Thank God you got sent to Pietersburg and out of the bastard's clutches.'

Pissy threw back his head and laughed. ‘No, man, even there he'd visit me. Twice a month. He'd take me in his big Plymouth to a hotel to eat something nice, then we'd do it after. Then later, after his wife died, he was transferred to be the superintendent at the Pietersburg orphanage. He's still there, he retires next year.'

‘So how long did it go on?'

‘The whole time, until I was sixteen and left the orphanage and came to Pretoria.'

‘To work at the health club, which was more of the same?'

‘
Ja
, but by then, like I jus' told you, I knew what I was. Look, man, you have to make the best out of life with what you've got. I worked hard at that place and learned everything there is to know about running a place like that: the steam room, laundry, front of house, kitchens, bar. I know all that stuff like the back of my hand.' He shrugged. ‘You going to be the big-time lawyer and I'm telling you, man, I'm going to make a lot of money with a Turkish bath for Afrikaner homosexuals. Just another six months in the mines and I'll have my share of the money. Now why would I want you to make a big court case? It would fuck up my chances to start such a business. You think I'm mad or stupid or something?'

‘Jesus, Pissy, what can I say? I'm just bloody sorry life happened to you like that.'

Pissy gave a short, sharp laugh, more like a bark. ‘Life sucks, but then I'm an expert at sucking, man!' he said sardonically. ‘Look, I know I was responsible for that
kaffir
, Mattress, being murdered and I'm sorry. When you become a big-time lawyer you'll re-open the murder enquiry, because I think that's why you asking me all these questions, isn't it? Okay, you got me out of the army, so I owe you big-time, man. But if you make me a witness in the case I won't cooperate and
Oom
Piet, Meneer Prinsloo, won't also, you hear? No way!' He paused and took a deep breath. ‘Who do you think is going to be my partner in the club?'

‘Oh, Jesus, no!'

‘When he retires. It's not so stupid as it sounds, you hear? Meneer Prinsloo knows how to run a place. He's had lots of experience running an orphanage for boys, and these men he understands, you hear? He's also very respectable-looking, a fat old man with a gold watch chain, a
regte Boer
, who laughs a lot. He can give the Afrikaner customers a drink, talk to them, make them feel at home, run the kitchen and the dining room, he can tell them his funny chicken stories. The people who come to use the back part won't be nervous with him when they first come to the club. They'll know their secret is safe with
Oom
Piet. What happens out the back in the private steam room is my business.' He laughed and added gratuitously, ‘He's a harmless old man. He can't even get it up anymore. For him the hanky-panky, it's finish and
klaar
!'

It was becoming obvious to me that there were two Pissy Vermaaks: the hapless, sobbing misfit that we'd seen in the barracks and a homosexual who knew his way around his own world and was a shrewd and cynical manipulator. Perhaps not even cynical, simply someone who lacked the normal moral standards most people accept as social behaviour. Knowing his background, this was hardly surprising and I wondered whether I might have assumed a similar philosophy if I hadn't received the breaks I'd been given in life. I confess, I hadn't realistically expected that he or Meneer Prinsloo would volunteer to be a witness. I'd have to subpoena them and hope for the best. But I was heartened by the fact that I now had something to hold over their heads. The case, if I could get it up, would almost certainly make the national papers. There had never been one quite like it before and the threat of revealing the details of a club for Afrikaner homosexuals might be sufficient to get them to cooperate in the witness stand.

I make no excuses for myself, in my own way I was being just as hard and cynical as Pissy. I knew I couldn't rest until I felt I'd done all I could to bring Mattress's murderers to justice. I also knew that my chances of doing so were not high, that to most South Africans the whole endeavour would seem a pointless exercise in jurisprudence. Some people in the law, even the judge, might think I was grandstanding, a young advocate looking for publicity. I knew that re-opening a murder enquiry that concerned an illiterate black man who looked after cows and pigs and six Afrikaner brothers and a sister, a family who many thought of as folk heroes and who'd already served twelve years in prison, was utterly pointless. Perhaps even cruel and vindictive, and it wasn't going to do my fledgling career in law any good, the legal Don Quixote tilting at windmills.