Endgame. Wilna Adriaanse

Endgame - Wilna Adriaanse


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waiting for a reply.

      “What do you want?”

      “Information. Everything you guys have on the people we’re investigating. In other words, we want what you have. No excuses and no more withholding information. As you know, we’ve had some bad luck recently and one of our more opportunistic operations failed. Partly because of you. We’re in trouble, but we can’t afford to sit on our hands and wait for our internal problems to be sorted out. There are some very dangerous people out there who need to be stopped. We’re all after the same thing. It makes sense to pool our resources.”

      “I’ll have to speak to my superiors. Some of our intel is highly confidential. If it falls into the wrong hands, lives will be at risk.”

      “I’ve already spoken to Monica. She understands the problem. We’ve reached an agreement.”

      Nick wondered why Monica hadn’t said anything and since when she’d been on first-name terms with Zondi.

      He nodded and Zondi looked at Ahmed.

      “We,” Ahmed said, pointing at Zondi and Barnard, “discussed it and decided a joint operation would be best. I’ll give you two people I trust, and from their side you’ll get Barnard and two more men. We simply don’t have any more manpower. But I want to repeat what Brigadier Zondi said. I’m not Father Christmas. I don’t hand out gifts. If I discover you’re screwing us over, I’ll make it my mission to make sure you don’t get as much as a glass of water from us in the future. Let alone help of any kind. I give you my word that I’ll be available at all times, but if you fuck me around, you’re out.” He made a sweeping gesture with his arm. “We set up this house for an operation we were forced to abandon. You’re welcome to use it. By tomorrow morning I want a provisional budget and a plan of action. And paperwork for the file.”

      Nick straightened his legs under the table and nodded. This morning’s headache was back, throbbing at his temples. Before he could reply, there was the sound of the doorbell and Barnard got up to open the door.

      Three men and a woman followed him inside and took seats around the table.

      “Right, if we’re all here, we can begin. I don’t need to tell you that this meeting is top secret, as is all the info you’re about to receive. If I find out a word of what is said here today has been repeated elsewhere, I’ll personally put you behind bars.” Zondi looked at Ahmed. “Would you like to say anything at this point?”

      He shook his head. “Please continue.”

      Zondi pointed at Nick. “This is Colonel Malherbe from Interpol. He’s spent the last couple of years working undercover in the Allegretti family. Last night there was a shooting at Enzio Allegretti’s home and Allegretti has been missing ever since. A man who works for him was shot and was taken to hospital in a critical condition. That’s the first part of a very complicated story.” Zondi looked at Ahmed again.

      “As Brigadier Zondi has said, it’s a complicated business. Allegretti’s fiancée of a few months, Clara Veldman, also appears to have gone missing on Friday night. Clara’s uncle is Nazeem Williams.” He ran his hand over his face. “We have reason to believe that both Williams and Allegretti have dealings with the Russian and the Chinese underworld. And maybe some of the other factions too. Your first priority is to find Allegretti and the girl. The reason you haven’t heard about it is that neither of the disappearances has been reported. Colonel Malherbe will lead the operation, but we’re a team. I require your full cooperation.” Ahmed looked at Nick and got up. “Right, we’ll leave you to get to work.”

      Andile Zondi got up as well and Barnard saw them out. Nick looked at the faces around the table. He waited until Barnard had returned before he asked them to introduce themselves and state the unit they were from.

      “Frans de Bruin, Crime Intelligence.” Frans was a tall, lean man. His shoulders were stooped as if he had spent his life ducking through doorways. He had a long face and big ears.

      “Stacy Hendriks. Organised Crime.” Nick thought Stacy looked like someone you could tell your troubles to – soft and gentle, the corners of her mouth turned up in a perpetual smile. She exuded an easy, calm energy. Her dark eyes were clear, but Nick suspected that her apparent equanimity was misleading.

      “Bonani Gaba. Organised Crime.” Nothing about Gaba was soft. He seemed to be all angles. He was considerably shorter than De Bruin; not fat, but with the shoulders and bulky torso of a front-ranker.

      “Jeremy Jansen. Technical Services.” Nick didn’t know much about fashion, but he thought Jansen could pass for a model. Everything about him was in proportion; his face seemed perfectly symmetrical. He had large, dark eyes that had probably made quite a few ladies abandon their virtuous intentions.

      “I take it most of you know each other and Captain Barnard?”

      Everyone nodded.

      “Firstly, thank you for being prepared to help. I know you all have your own dockets. From my side, I’ll do everything in my power to make sure we solve the case as promptly as possible. Which doesn’t mean we should rush into it, of course. We’ll have only one chance.”

      Nick began to fill them in on the shooting at Allegretti’s house and the kidnapping in Camps Bay on Friday night.

      “We have no evidence that the two incidents are related, but the fact that Allegretti and Clara used to be engaged certainly makes one wonder. Of course we can’t exclude the possibility that Allegretti himself was involved in Clara Veldman’s disappearance. Though motive is certainly important, for the moment we’ll focus on facts alone and get back to motive later.”

      Nick turned to Jansen. “Cellphone records. Last place and time both their cellphones registered. I don’t have to tell you it’s urgent. Call in favours, make threats, anything. I know people always say they’re busy and it’s not their only case, but right now I don’t want to hear any excuses.

      “De Bruin and Hendriks, contact the airlines. See if their names appear on any passenger lists. Some of the buildings near Paranga are equipped with CCTV cameras. I want Friday night’s footage. I also want a list of all staff members who worked that night. Call all your contacts tonight. Inside and outside the department. Find out if anyone has new information that’s not in the files yet.” Nick looked at Clive. “We need someone for admin.” His gaze swept over the others. “Every scrap of information goes into the files. Every piece of evidence. Every report. No one keeps anything to himself. Warn your families that they won’t be seeing much of you for a while. We meet here at four tomorrow afternoon and I want news by then.”

      “By the way,” he added as they were getting to their feet, “my name is not to be mentioned. If there are enquiries or if anyone wants to speak to your boss, contact Captain Barnard.”

      “Yes, Colonel,” they chorused.

      “My name is Nick,” he said, and wrote down two cellphone numbers on a piece of paper, which he handed to Jansen. “These are the numbers we’re looking for.” He put a blank page on the table. “Your names and phone numbers. Make sure you have everyone else’s numbers.” He wrote his own number at the top of the list. “And remember, this is not an official investigation. Neither of these incidents has been reported. We’re not supposed to know about them. Be vague, say just enough for people to be willing to answer, but don’t give any details.”

      When everyone had left, Nick and Clive walked through the rest of the house. A large living room with couches and easy chairs led off the dining room and kitchen. A flatscreen television set was fixed to the wall. Nick wondered what kind of operation the house had originally been meant for.

      To the left of the front door was a study, furnished with a desk and two armchairs. Two of the bedrooms along the passage contained a desk and a single divan positioned against the wall. There was a bathroom off the passage and what appeared to be the main bedroom at the end of the passage. A king-sized bed had been placed in the middle of the room, with night tables on either side. It looked as if the owners had simply walked out.


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