CHAPTER TWELVE

My phone rang just after Dexter and Amy had woken me up to take them outside for their early morning toiletries. It was Yekani looking for Sam. I woke Sam up, let the dogs out and made us all some strong coffee. I reckoned that we were going to need it soon. I just had that feeling in my gut that this case was going to take another twist.

After a few minutes Sam emerged.

'Guess what,' he grimaced, George is in the UK. He has a British passport from his mother's side of the family. He went through the border at Botswana and caught a flight to London from Gaborone. Scotland Yard refuses to help trace his whereabouts unless we provide due cause. Hard to do that right now.' He looked at me with bleary eyes.

'Not sure where to go from here, Sis. Any ideas? This coffee is great by the way, I'm wide awake. I have passed on the info about Jackson to Kevin. He will put his guys onto it straight away. They don't have him in their little pink book though. We still haven't traced him.'

The pink book was the name for the database that housed all the information on paedophiles or suspected paedophiles.

'Good,' I said, 'I think that we need to relook at our chart this morning.'

I sent Dexter and Amy into Clementine's room to do the necessary. She squealed. There is nothing worse than being woken up by two Yorkies licking you in the face. '

'Okay, okay, I'm getting up,' she grumbled. 'Your mother is a sadist'

I took her the magic coffee. Half an hour later we were sitting around the table looking at our chart and eating muffins I had bought from Woolworths. We started by adding the latest information on Jackson and George.

'Except for Brendan we know how the boys were abducted,' Sam started the ball rolling. 'We also know that Jackson and George are involved in this up to their eyeballs. Jackson snatched both boys, I am certain of that.'

Clementine and I nodded in unison.

'George set up the adoptions, kept quiet about that fact and omitted to record them in his interviews with the parents. If the adoptions were legal why try and hide them from us?'

'They may have been legal from a paper point of view but we do know that the blood father was unhappy with the adoptions. His parents orchestrated it with the help of George probably for a large fee,' I said.

'I'm still trying to work out whether the blood father is part of our dots. We have no way of knowing who he was but there is a possibility that he tracked them down somehow.'

'That thought has also crossed my mind Sis, but why not just come out into the open and claim them. Why have the kids abducted? It just doesn't make sense.'

'We need to do some serious checks on Jackson and George.'

Sam was about to say that he had put those wheels in motion when an SMS came through on his phone. I gathered from his expression that it was good news. You could always tell with Sam. If it was bad news he lifted his left eyebrow. If it was good news he lifted his right eyebrow. He was amazed when I had first commented on it. He said that it was a habit he picked up playing bridge with his wife. If he had a good hand he would raise the right eyebrow. If it was a shocker he raised the left. I found it very amusing. I could never imagine Sam playing bridge but he and his wife had won a number of tournaments so he had to be good at it. I love people they are always so full of surprises.

He jumped up. 'Party over ladies, Bill Van Niekerk is back from Lesotho. Let's go. He's in his office.'

I was shocked when I saw the cocky little man. He had aged ten years since we had seen him a few days ago. The attitude had gone, his shoulders sagged, and his eyes were gaunt and lifeless. We all looked at each other. What the hell was going on?

Sam went for the jugular which is always a good option when your prey is wounded. 'It's obvious, Van Niekerk that you have something to hide. Spit it out or I'm going to take you downtown for a serious interrogation.' I'm not in the mood to play cluedo anymore. I want to find those boys. You know something. I can feel it in my water.'

'I received a tip off that Brendan was in Lesotho,' he said softly. He took a piece of paper out of his pocket. It had been put together from letters from a newspaper, much the same as our doggy search. It read,

Brandon is in Lesotho. Kind regards.

'I put my best men onto this. We could not find a trace anywhere.'

'Did we not warn you to leave this investigation to us asshole? If those boys die because you held this investigation up, I'll make sure that everyone in your family, friends, business acquaintances know what a jerk you are,' Sam yelled.

'You've lost us another two days,' I added. 'That could be critical.'

'Listen, I know I've screwed up. I've been a lousy husband and Brendan hates me for the way I treated his mom. I wouldn't listen to her when she told me she had cramp after cramp in her stomach. I told her she was just putting on, that she was a hypochondriac. I refused to pay for her to go to a physician. I've never believed in medical aid and when they told me how much the tests would cost I told them all to get lost. Turned out that she had stomach cancer and by the time they started treatment it was too late.'

Tears started to stream down his face. 'The worst part is that she refused to blame me. She told Brendan that it was God's will and that I had nothing to do with it. He didn't buy that. He has always been very mature for his age. He will never forgive me. He doesn't realise that I don't sleep at night. I hate myself as much as he hates me.'

I had just seen a different side to this man. Sometimes you hide your problems under a veneer of fire and brimstone.

Even Sam softened visibly. He put his hand on Bill's shoulder.

'Maybe we should start again,' he said. 'Who do you think is responsible?'

Bill clasped his hands so tightly that all his knuckles went white. 'That's the problem; I do not have a clue. I am as flummoxed as you are'

I had an idea. 'Sam, can I speak to you in private,' I asked?

He nodded. We went outside.

'Don't you think we could pool resources to some extent here'? He has an excellent web of contacts. I'm not saying we share everything we know with him but maybe we could ask him and his merry men to follow up leads for us. You guys are so stretched and unlike me he won't want a dime from you for services rendered'

Sam looked at me carefully. 'Good thought,' he said. Let me speak to my boss.'

I went inside and we waited over half an hour for him to return. I took the opportunity of giving Bill the number for Jenny and persuaded him to give it a try. I know the Sopranos' give the impression that men go willingly to a shrink but in South Africa that is definitely not the case. It is seen as a huge sign of weakness. Red blooded South African males just do not have emotional problems but social welfare will tell you a very different story.

To my surprise he seemed interested in my offer and asked me to speak to Jenny.

Sam returned and sat facing Bill.

'I have a proposition, approved by our Station Commander. We will share certain information with you and you can use your men to assist with the investigation provided that it is clearly understood I lead that investigation and everything is done by the book. You can be the conduit between us and them. If we find out that you are keeping information away from us or misusing our trust, the deal is off.'

Bill leaned over and shook his hand. In my experience these agreements where no paperwork is involved were seldom broken.

We filled him in on what we knew and asked him to find out what he could about both Jackson and George. By the time we left him he was relaxed and upbeat again. 'I owe you guys. When we find Brendan I will treat you all to a holiday in Mauritius.'

'I can't accept that, unfortunately,' Sam said.

'But we can,' Clementine and I said together. Sam and Bill laughed.

Just before we arrived home, Sam received a call from Bill. Clem and I couldn't hear what was being said but Sam ended the conversation by saying, 'Thanks, I'll check with my boss to see if we can do that.' Very mysterious. He disappeared into my garden for over an hour and then came back in with a huge smile on his face.

'And …and?' I said. Is the boss going to let you go to Mauritius?'

'I have a surprise for you, but you will have to wait until I'm ready to share it with you.'

'Oh no, mister – you don't do that to the female species and get away with it. Clem, time to implement operation SOS.'

'Right,' she said and disappeared. What Sam didn't know was that if Clem sms'ed SOS to Juba he knew that we were in danger. We had seen his car in the driveway, so we knew he was home and wouldn't be too upset if we abused the code.

He came bursting in the door, Glock in hand, scaring the hell out of us. Sam nearly died of a heart attack. Clementine gently calmed him down, apologised for having him on and told him that Sam was being ugly to us. He grinned, turned him upside down and let us tickle him. Sam was seriously ticklish. He only lasted a minute and conceded defeat.

'We're going to London,' he shouted.

We were speechless. Clem and Sam had not even visited Swaziland, let alone London. Juba was well travelled and they loved it when we shared the stories of our overseas trips. It all sounded so magical.

'One of Bill's senior managers is friendly with George and knows where he is staying but was sworn to secrecy. He is worried about George but has known him for a long time and is positive he is not involved with the abductions. He knows something though. Bill has offered to pay for the three of us to go and interview him. We have contacted George through his friend and he has agreed to meet us. Our flights and accommodation are booked. We leave at ten tonight. We need to be at the airport at eight, special visas have been arranged for all three of us through Scotland Yard who at least contributed that to the party. It's not going to be a holiday, so don't look so excited,' Sam said. 'But I will take you on the 'eye' at least,' he added, winking at me.

Clem was overawed and I tried to answer her thousands of questions as best I could, knowing full well that nothing beats the real thing. It took me awhile on the plane to show Clem how all the gadgets worked but by the time we took off she had the hang of it and shortly after takeoff settled down to one of the movies on offer. We flew Emirates on an Airbus A380 and although a lot cheaper than the other airlines, the food and service was excellent. It is not the fourth largest airline in the world for nothing. I loved the uniforms that the flight attendants wore. The men had chocolate brown suits with pinstripes, cream shirts and a caramel honey and red tie. The colour of their skin was chocolate brown as well so they looked awesome. Clem's tongue drooled every time she saw one of them. There was a four hour stopover in Dubai which was a pest because we had to stay on the plane but we managed to land in Terminal Two at Heathrow on time.

It took forever to clear customs and collect our luggage. South Africans never required visas to enter the UK until fairly recently and still do not require one for Ireland but a few years back that was changed. The reason given was that too many South Africans who arrived in the UK for a visit overstayed their welcome. Ironically visitors from the UK do not require a visa to visit South Africa which is the way it should be, considering that we all still belong to the commonwealth. We have the same situation with the Aussies. Their neighbours, New Zealand, do not require a visa for South African visitors. It's amusing how western countries pride themselves on democracy but have no problem restricting immigration to their shores. That is true democracy.

I have never envied anyone anyway who swaps the incredible South African weather for the suicide-inducing climate of the UK. I doubt there are many South Africans left who are desperate enough to want to make the move.

Bill's friend, Tom Dawson, was waiting at the terminal to collect us. Tom was a Scotsman who had relocated many years ago to work for Dulux, part of the ICI group, at their head office in Slough. He was a large man with heavy arms, blue eyes and light ginger hair and was blessed with a mischievous sense of humour. He had been to South Africa many times and had a good idea of the transition we were about to make.

'We tried to lay on the sun for you, but you Africans are so bloody stubborn you wouldn't lend it to us. We learnt our lesson after the Zulu and Boer wars. We don't get pushy with you any more except on the rugby field and even there you normally push back harder. My mates in the Dog and Whistle can't wait to meet you.' He looked at Sam who was in the front passenger seat. 'Sam, I'm proud to tell you that Slough has ticked all the transformation boxes. We had the first black female mayor in the UK way back in 1984 – less than half our population is white, forty percent Asian and the rest black. He winked at me in the mirror.

Sam laughed and shot back. 'Impressive and the white man even picks up the black guys from the airport.' Tom loved that. I knew he would tell his mates in the 'Dog' about that one.

Although their weather is terrible, the people have a great sense of humour and like us South Africans they know how to laugh at themselves. Their history is amazing as Clem and Sam would find out if we found some time to explore London.

Tom dropped us off at the Holiday Inn in Maidenhead and promised to pick us up late afternoon for a meal at the 'Dog.' We would meet with George in London tomorrow afternoon which gave us time to ride the 'Eye.' The rooms were holiday 'innish' but personally I enjoy them. Comfortable enough, certainly not elegant and I love showers, so always a pain to have a shower in the bath. It doesn't matter how hard I try, I always get water all over the floor and then spend ten minutes cleaning up due to guilt over my stupidity.

We met in the foyer and went to the 'Dog.' Although we have good pubs back home, somehow they pale into insignificance compared to the British pubs. They manage to exude an atmosphere that is simply unique. It wasn't long before some of the patrons noticed Clementine and tried to hit on her. She has this marvellous smile that thanks you for the compliment while she politely turns you down. You could see that whoever approached her went away feeling like a million dollars although he had just lucked out. Even Sam was impressed. 'Clem, you are the only girl I know who calmly cuts a guy's balls off and yet makes them think they have just won Lotto.' We all laughed but it was so true.

I ordered a steak and kidney pie. You can't go into an English pub and not have a steak and kidney pie. Both Sam and Clem joined me and Tom had fish and chips. When the meal arrived Clem and Sam couldn't believe their eyes, the pies were huge. While we were eating they had a music quiz on the go. A team of guys was sitting to our right and the first song that was played had them flummoxed.

'In the summertime,' I whispered, 'Mungo Jerry' to the one nearest to me. The next thing we knew we were part of the team. They were all younger than us so the partnership was perfect. They knew the new bands but in a quiz like this, they are not going to play much of that music – they play a new hit every now and again to keep people in the game but the goal is to stump you. Sam was a dead loss – Kwaito was definitely not on the menu and Clem was more the age group of those around, so I quickly became the star of the show. There was only one team that could match us song for song so it became an enthralling contest. The final song was 'Lost in the supermarket' by The Clash, which I correctly identified to win us the night. To our surprise the prize was five hundred pounds which we were given half and decided to use that to buy tequila for everyone in the bar. We all drank it in unison singing 'God save the Queen' which was awesome. After that, the party was on. There is nothing but nothing to beat singing songs in an English pub. The leaving of Liverpool, Galway bay, Maggie May, We are the champions – it just went on and on and the drinks flowed. My final recollection was Sam scrumming on the bar with some mad Irishman who whipped his ass. On the way home I couldn't help feeling sad that we were probably never going to see these people with whom we had just shared the night of a lifetime with again. Tom dropped us off – he had not touched a drink. One thing you don't want to be caught doing in England, is drunken driving. I collapsed on my bed and for the first time understood how the term 'crashed' had come about. I crashed and surfaced the next morning wondering if my forefathers had felt like this after their farewell party before they sailed from Liverpool to Cape Town. At least they had three weeks to get over it. I had an hour.

Clem looked like a million dollars at breakfast. I could have hit her. I had never come across anyone who could hold her liquor like she did. 'I hate you,' I said. 'You are not normal. Thank goodness I wear dark glasses. If you saw my eyes you would think that I was a vampire. They are as red as the colour on a Marxist flag.'

She laughed. 'If you think you look bad, look at what's crawling towards our table right now.' Sam looked as if he needed to be in ICU, not having breakfast. He muttered something totally unintelligible.

I grunted back. Two bears with bad heads snarling at each other. Clem came back from the breakfast display with the whole trip – sausages, eggs, mushrooms, bacon, baked beans – all drowned in oil. Sam and I moved to another table and had black coffee and dried toast. Not a word passed, we just respected each other's pain and left it at that. Every now and then Sam would somehow find the strength to show Clem a middle finger as she laughed and waved a piece of oily bacon at us. I had my back to her, mentally preparing her severance package.

Tom picked us up at nine. We had to meet George Arendse at a pub in Earls Court in London. Tom was in the pink of health so we pushed Clem into the passenger seat and Sam and I collapsed in the back seat and used the hour long drive to recover as best we could. Tom used the opportunity to tell Clem all about London.

Tom drove us to Earls Court where we found a parking bay near the pub where we were to meet George. We caught the tube to Westminster near the 'Eye', one of the highlights of any trip to London. Tom was an excellent guide and showed us the landmarks as we worked our way around the wheel. As time was limited we caught a 'hop on, hop off' bus, and sat on the top deck. The weather was kind to us – it was a fabulous day. You could sit and absorb yourself in the tour from your headphones and let your thoughts, imagination and emotions swim with the words of the tour guide. Buckingham Palace, Westminster Abbey, Trafalgar Square, Piccadilly Circus, St. Pauls, Tower Of London – it went on and on. We ended back at the 'Eye' buying a pizza and a coke at a fast food kiosk to quell the hunger that had set in. We walked a short distance down to a pier on the Thames and took a tour to Greenwich and back. We were like kids in a candy store. We just could not get enough of the history of this majestic city. Their transport system was to die for, although Tom told us that everyone complained about it. They should spend a few days in Johannesburg – they will quickly change their minds.

We made our way back from Westminster by tube to Earls Court for our meeting. George was sitting at a table waiting for us looking very apprehensive. I crossed my fingers; maybe some of the mysteries surrounding the abductions would finally be solved.

*****