CHAPTER 56

When Kubu left home on Monday morning, he was feeling cheerful. He’d enjoyed a good breakfast of eggs, toast, and coffee and had pleased Joy with his relatively enthusiastic eating. And he was looking forward to the interview with Julius. Mabaku had been delighted with the evidence from the Nigerian and immediately ordered the arrest of Julius, whom they left in a cell until Monday morning while Zanele saw what she could do to link him to the revolver. Mabaku’s enthusiasm had even run to lifting Kubu’s suspension, and the two of them had agreed to meet at eight a.m. to plan the interrogation; Mabaku would lead, and Kubu would back him up.

Also, at last Kubu felt he was coming to terms with his father’s murder. He remained convinced that it was Shonhu who had plunged a knife into his father’s chest. However, Shonhu refused to say anything about the murders, so they might never know the true reason why. Whether his silence was due to loyalty to his masters in Beijing or fear of them, they didn’t know. When told of Hong’s betrayal, Shonhu had sneered, “He’s scared to go home. He’ll say anything.” No doubt Davidson would try to exploit that at the trial, but it wouldn’t wash. There was no doubt that Shonhu would be convicted of the Kunene murder. And if they never proved the Wilmon case, well, a man can only be executed once.

However, when Kubu reached Mabaku’s office, he knew at once that something was wrong. Mabaku returned his greeting and invited him to take a seat, then sat for a few moments saying nothing. When he did speak, the tone was somber.

“Kubu, something came up over the weekend. Zanele worked like a dog as usual, and she played a hunch that turned out to be right.”

This sounded like good news, so Kubu nodded and waited for the director to continue.

“She has Julius’s prints on the gun and ammunition, and the jacket he saved from the kgotla is positive for powder residue. He shot his father with that gun in the jacket pocket. No doubt.” He paused. “But she found something else. There was blood on one of his belts. She got the South Africans to do a rush job over the weekend. It was your father’s blood.” Mabaku paused again and waited for that to sink in. “She also found a hooded rain jacket. And Chinese boots, size seven.”

Suddenly, it all seemed so obvious to Kubu. He should’ve known that Julius had murdered his father. Julius had admitted to visiting Wilmon, and they’d quarreled over some sort of land issue, and Julius was, after all, the only connection to the mine.

Kubu took a deep breath. There was still one huge question.

“Why?”

Mabaku shook his head. “I don’t know, and we may never know unless Julius tells us. We can’t make a case on the bloodstain alone.”

Kubu started to protest, but Mabaku held up his hand. “We’ve got him for his father’s murder. He may well come clean. I’ll interview him with Samantha; she can link in the Nigerian.”

Kubu swallowed a wave of resentment. Samantha replacing him! But Mabaku was right. He’d been right from the beginning, and the proof was in the outburst of last Thursday. In his father’s case, he couldn’t rise above his emotional involvement. “Yes, Director, I understand.”

Mabaku nodded. “Good. I know how hard this is for you, Kubu, and I can’t promise success, but I can promise we’ll try our very best.” Uncharacteristically, he rose and stuck out his hand. Kubu shook it and said, “Thank you, Jacob. You’ll let me know as soon as you have something?”

“I can do better than that. We’ll use the new interview room with the one-way glass. I want you to watch. You may be able to pick up something we miss.”

Kubu thought that unlikely; that wasn’t the reason Mabaku was doing this. “Thank you, Jacob,” he said again. Mabaku nodded.

After Kubu had left, Mabaku asked Miriam to have Samantha come and see him so he could brief her. While he was waiting for her, he made a call to Ian MacGregor.

*   *   *

KUBU SAT IN the observation room facing the one-way glass panel looking into the interview room itself. It was like a vacant stage waiting for the play to begin and Kubu was the audience of one. But this play wouldn’t have a happy ending. Maybe it wouldn’t have an ending at all. The tension he thought he’d laid to rest had returned. He wanted to grab Julius and beat the truth out of him.

The door opened, and he looked around to see Ian MacGregor. The Scotsman smiled. “Fancy meeting you here, Kubu. How’re you doing?”

“Ian! What brings you here?”

“You don’t think I’m interested?”

“You have nothing to do today? No bodies?”

“They’ll wait. They’re not going anywhere.” Ian paused. “The director thought you might appreciate someone to keep you company.”

Kubu nodded. “Thanks, Ian. Bring any Scotch?”

Ian laughed. “For Julius’s wake? Maybe a bit premature.”

“Yes, maybe.”

At that moment, the door of the interview room opened, and a handcuffed Julius was pushed in. There was another man with him whom Kubu didn’t recognize, a lawyer presumably. Julius said something, but Kubu couldn’t hear what. The room was soundproof too. They’d have to wait until the recording started for the sound to be piped in.

Shortly afterward, Mabaku and Samantha came in, and the sound was switched on. Kubu and Ian concentrated on the proceedings, staring through the one-way glass.

“Rra Koma,” Mabaku began, “this interview is being recorded. You have been charged with the murder of Rra Rankoromane Koma, chief in Shoshong. You have been apprised of your rights. Do you have anything to say?”

“I certainly do! This is all a setup. You’re trying to frame me for this so that the mine expansion is blocked. It’s outrageous!”

Mabaku didn’t react. “Let’s go back a bit. Do you know a Lamado Emefiele?”

Julius shook his head, but Mabaku insisted on a formal answer. “No. I do not.”

“He’s a Nigerian. Maybe you didn’t know his name. His address is…” Mabaku consulted his notes and read it out. Julius shook his head again.

“That’s strange,” Samantha put in. “He certainly recognized you. Picked you out from a selection of photographs with no trouble.”

Julius shrugged.

“Do you own a gun?” Mabaku asked.

Julius hesitated and whispered to his lawyer. Kubu leaned forward, but of course that didn’t help to hear. “Yes,” he said at last.

“So,” Mabaku commented. “I asked you that question once before, and you lied to me.”

“I don’t have a permit for it. I wanted it in a hurry. There were threats made on my life, so I bought it illegally.”

“You are admitting obtaining and keeping an illegal firearm?”

“Yes. I was scared. People had threatened to kill me!”

“And who were these people?”

“I’m sure it was the people opposed to the mine expansion. They knew I wanted what was best for Shoshong, but they had their own interests to serve.”

“Did you report this to the police?”

“No. They wouldn’t have done anything.”

“So you took matters into your own hands. Did you ever fire this gun? At a shooting range, for example?”

“No.”

“Did you carry it with you?”

“No.”

“So you didn’t feel that threatened.”

“I thought they would come for me at home!”

“The mysterious ‘they.’ Where did you obtain this firearm?”

“I bought it from that man—Emfeely, whatever his name is.”

“So you lied about that too.”

“I didn’t remember his name. I’m being honest with you here.”

“Honest?” Mabaku said. “Hardly.”

Kubu frowned with frustration. “He should be much more aggressive. He’s letting him squirm out of it.”

Ian shook his head. “Mabaku knows what he’s doing, Kubu. Give him time. He’s building a trap.”

Yes, Kubu thought. He’s already caught him in a lie. But I want it done. Over with. He just nodded in response to Ian’s comment and shut up. He realized he’d missed Mabaku’s next question.

“No!” Julius said. “I did not pay him to cause trouble at the kgotla. That’s a lie! I paid him for the gun and nothing else.”

“Don’t you think it’s odd that the two men Emefiele approached—and paid a thousand pula each—both identified him? Why would they lie about it?” Samantha chipped in.

“Maybe someone else paid him to do that. The mine people for example. You’ve arrested Hong and Shonhu for what they did to Kunene. Why not bribe someone to cause trouble also? Why don’t you ask them?”

“He’s clever,” Kubu said. “He admits the things he knows they can prove and denies everything else.” Ian nodded but didn’t comment.

Mabaku changed tack. “How much did the mine people pay you for your consulting? For convincing your father?”

“They paid me for advice! I didn’t bribe anyone. My father didn’t listen to me anyway.”

“Let’s get back to the gun. Did you have it at the kgotla? In case you were attacked?”

“No.”

“You’re lying again. You used it to shoot and kill your father!”

“No! That’s not true!”

“What about your jacket?”

“It got torn.”

“How?”

“Maybe my father grabbed it when he fell. Or perhaps it was when the mob reached us. It all happened so quickly!”

“So what was torn?”

“The pocket was ripped off. I had to get it repaired.”

“Oh, the pocket. That’s what was torn off.”

Julius was silent, perhaps realizing that he’d said too much.

“They’ve got him, Ian!” Kubu said. “He shot him through the jacket, then replaced the pocket. He’s practically admitted it!”

“Has he, indeed?” asked Ian dryly.

The lawyer came to life. “Rra Mabaku, where is this going? My client has admitted to owning an illegal firearm. He was in fear of his life. Now you are making a fuss about a jacket pocket. Do you have a point?”

“Indeed I do, rra. You see your client fired his gun through that pocket. Our forensics people found gun residue on the inside of the pocket. So it’s hardly surprising that he had to have it replaced afterward, is it?”

“That’s not true!” Julius burst out.

“So how did the residue get onto the jacket?”

“Well, it must’ve been when my father was shot. Maybe the shooter was right behind me! I heard a bang, but I thought it was the police. Maybe he used a silencer.”

“We shouldn’t have given him the weekend to get his story straight,” Kubu muttered.

Mabaku leaned back. “And crouched to get to just the right angle next to your pocket? Which was later conveniently ripped off? You seem to have an answer to everything, rra. What would your answer be if I told you that our pathologist found fibers from your jacket in the bullet wound?”

“Ian!” Kubu exclaimed. “Brilliant! How did you manage that? I wouldn’t have thought it was possible.”

“Probably isn’t, Kubu. The bullet would burn a hole in the material, and, anyway, it would never carry fibers to the victim.”

“But Mabaku said…” Then Kubu realized the director hadn’t really said that, and Julius was floundering with the hypothetical question.

“Maybe the bullet went through my jacket,” Julius said at last.

“And you didn’t notice? Come on!”

Julius was silent, and Kubu was concerned that the lawyer would interrupt, but he didn’t. Push your advantage, Jacob, Kubu silently encouraged.

“Look, Koma, we’re wasting time. This is cut and dried. One, you obtained an illegal gun. Two, your father was shot with that caliber gun. Three, no one else had the opportunity. Forget about the mysterious assassin with the silenced gun. We have the photographs, remember? There wasn’t anyone else close enough to fire a shot from that angle, let alone take out your pocket in the process. So we know you bought the gun from Emefiele. We know you fired the shot that killed your father through your pocket. Actually, two shots. You even left the spent cartridges in the revolver cylinder. We even know why you did it.”

For a long moment Julius said nothing. At last he repeated, “Why I did it?”

“Your father was going to throw you off the council of elders, wasn’t he? You knew he’d turn down the mine’s offer. But that wasn’t the real reason, was it? You were going to lose all that money from the mine. And even that wasn’t the main reason.”

“It wasn’t?” Julius was transfixed now, as though watching a snake.

“No, the real reason was for the people of Shoshong. To preserve the town you loved and its young people. To make a future for them. That’s why you did it.”

Slowly Julius nodded. “Yes,” he said as though recognizing a revelation. “That is why I did it.”

The lawyer started to say something, but Julius brushed him aside. “There was no other way. I respected my father, but we had to move forward. There was no other way, was there?”

Kubu leaned forward, almost touching the glass. His mouth was slightly open.

Mabaku shook his head. “No other way. He wouldn’t listen to you, would he? He wouldn’t accept that Shoshong would die without the mine expansion. Perhaps I would’ve done the same in your place.” Mabaku nodded slowly.

“He’s overdoing it,” Kubu muttered. “Julius is too smart. He’ll wake up.”

But he didn’t. Over the next half hour, he told a rambling story. How his father had always despised him, always blocked his ideas, always lived in the past. How Julius had seen a way forward with the mine. It was a story he wanted to tell. His lawyer was flabbergasted and tried to shut him up, but Julius ignored him, and so the whole story came out.

“That was brilliant,” Kubu said at the end, breathless. “How did the director know?”

Ian thought for a moment. “Julius needed a justification for his hatred of his father, Kubu. Mabaku gave it to him, and he couldn’t resist it.”