Daddy Long Legs (2 page)

‘Nah, it’s fine. I’ll take it here.’ He took the receiver from a radiant smiling Luz and looked up at the towering foyer ceiling while he put it to his ear. ‘Yeah? Kyle speaking.’ There was silence. Kyle forced the receiver against his ear. ‘Hello.’ He listened carefully but there was nothing. Thinking the call had been dropped, he was just about to hand the receiver back to Luz. When he heard a rustle of movement. Somebody
was
at the other end. ‘Hello.’ Nothing. And yet. Once again he heard a sound. The unmistakable scrape of a stubbled chin against the phone on the other end. ‘Listen, can you hear me?’ He waited. But no-one responded. And yet. There it was again. Somebody was there. And they were messing with him. ‘Listen, I don’t have time for –’ And then he heard it. Something that made him bite his sentence in two. If he hadn’t had the receiver right up against his ear he probably wouldn’t have heard it at all. But he did. And for some reason it sent a cold chill down his spine.

Kyle.

Somebody had whispered his name. Hoarse and malicious.

Kyle threw down the receiver and walked towards the bar area. Badly shaken. There was something deeply disturbing about the voice on the other end.

If only Kyle knew.

On the seventh of May, 1985, Barry Coetzee vanished without a trace.

Barry, aged ten, had been on his way home from tennis practice when he disappeared. Hope was a small town and it was less than two kilometres from the premises of Hope Primary School to Barry’s house in the lower-middle class suburb of Mooigenoeg. Barry would normally walk this distance, his tattered green school satchel on his back and dusty tog bag in his hand.

Barry was a gentle and trusting boy, small for his age. He liked nothing more than practising piano etudes and scales in the safety of his house. Yvette Coetzee, Barry’s mom, loved him dearly. And maybe because he was her only child, she was over-protective and preferred a sheltered life for her son. It was Barry’s dad, Roedolf Coetzee, who suggested he take up a sport. Since he was way too small for rugby and intimidated by the hardness of a cricket ball, he reluctantly took up tennis. It was after another unsatisfying practice session that Barry now walked home.

He took the same route home every day and had become a regular sight along his journey. And yet, witnesses were scarce on that fateful day.

Dusk was already settling over the small Northern Cape town when Barry stopped to purchase a packet of Super C’s at the Aurora corner shop (witnesses said). After that he walked a short distance along Main Road and took a right at Church Street (witnesses said). Outside the Moerdyk Auto Repair Shop, Barry cordially greeted Jan Moerdyk – who subsequently became the last person to see Barry alive. Somewhere between this point and the end of Church Street – less than half a kilometre away – Barry was swallowed up in a shadowy abyss. And became the second victim of Daddy Long Legs.

Regrettably, no-one saw anything. Details were few ... and vague. A white/beige/yellow late/early model Toyota/Ford/Nissan had been spotted in that part of town (witnesses said). The one moment he had been in plain sight and the next ... well, it was as if the earth had swallowed him up whole.

Of course Barry was only reported missing later that night. After his hysterical mom had phoned up half of Hope (and knocked on the doors of the other half) in an effort to locate her missing son. By early the next morning, the worst suspicions of the small town’s residents had been confirmed: the disappearance (and subsequent discovery) of Paul Walters a few months earlier was not an isolated case. Somebody was abducting and brutally murdering the little boys of Hope.

Bizarrely, no-one had at this stage linked the twisted poem – that had featured a few months before in the
Gazette
– to the disappearance of Paul Walters. That was all to change when the following entry appeared in the classifieds the next day:

Little Miss Muffet

Sat on a Tuffet

But little boy Barry is

Locked in a closet

Poor Little boy Barry

Can kick and scream

But nothing will carry

And none will hear him howl

Now that he is mine

To relish, devour and foul

The disappearance of Paul Walters and the discovery of his bruised and battered little body had shocked and horrified the people of Hope. The publication of the poems, and its link to the abduction of the two boys, now raised the revulsion levels of the residents to fever pitch. It was not a situation helped by the realisation that some sick mind was toying with the good people of Hope with disturbed little compositions. For the first time people realised there was a serial killer in their midst – stalking and preying on their children. Overnight the town of Hope became a very different place.

The story made headlines across the nation and featured prominently in the radio and television news of the South African Broadcasting Corporation – back then, the country’s sole electronic news medium. Newspaper reporters from cities across South Africa descended on the little Northern Cape enclave.

Crimes like these were unknown – this was before the revelation of the perversions of the infamous Gert van Rooyen – and, as in the case of the first disappearance, the local police found themselves completely out of their depth. However, this time they immediately called in the help of two murder and robbery detectives from Kimberley. Detectives James Burke and Klaas Haasbroek hurried to the scene of the crime – and promptly became media celebrities. It was but one of many reasons why the investigation was doomed to failure right from the start.

Initially many of the residents of Hope suspected that some black or Coloured man from the local township was behind the crimes. It was a measure of consolation (believe it or not) for some to hypothesise that a white man couldn’t possibly be behind the egregious misdeeds ... and that logically a black man
must
be to blame. Some even conjectured (bizarrely) that the crimes were a part of the terror campaign of the outlawed African National Congress – in their efforts to demoralise the minority white population and thus destabilise the government. Although the ANC theory was never really taken seriously, these fears and suspicions did lead to sporadic attacks on black members within the community as well as other hate crimes. Thoko Motaung, an exiled ANC member living in London, reacted to the situation by saying that if it
were
an African committing the terrible crimes, the white community deserved it for their centuries-long oppression of the black population. Although it was a callous and cruel thing to say, Motaung received wide-spread support in the UK and US media.

The two Kimberley detectives soon put the whole matter to rest by pointing out that it couldn’t possibly have been a black man. The detectives surmised – correctly – that the abductor had to be known to the boys – else he wouldn’t have been able to commit his crimes, in broad daylight, with such apparent ease. A black man wouldn’t have been able to gain the required proximity to the abducted boys – especially in Apartheid South Africa. Furthermore, they indicated that the killer mentioned both boys by name in the – now famous –
Gazette
poems. As much as most people hated to admit it, it was one of their own who was behind the repulsive crimes. Of course, in the racially charged South Africa of the 80’s, there were many who refused to abandon their suspicions that it was a ‘non-white’ who was behind the crimes. For many years, a substantial sector of the white community continued to believe that a black man was behind the murders.

Whatever their suspicions, the crimes had disastrous consequences for the social structures within the ‘whites-only’ town limits. Paranoia and mistrust flared up. Neighbours eyed each other with suspicion. Social events all over the arid Northern Cape town were cancelled and even the annual Agricultural show was postponed. Kind gestures between citizens – formerly seen as polite social acts – were now frowned upon and viewed with deep enmity. Already having a reputation as a hard-drinking town, alcohol abuse sky rocketed. At the same time, church attendance was at an all time high. The children of Hope, for generations raised to be unreservedly respectful and deferential to their elders, were now taught to view grown-ups with suspicion. In this way, an entire generation of Hope children were inculcated with a warped view of their own society. Hope had finally joined the twentieth century. In a congruent act, some aspirant wit vandalised the Hope signboard on the N12. It now read HOPE(LESS). Things were not looking good for the little town on the edge of the arid Karoo.

As for the official police investigation, things were not going much better. Like so much in South Africa – then and now – everything became politicised. In addition, the investigation was dogged by small-town politics right from the start.

Frik Moerdyk, brother to the man who was the last person to see Barry Coetzee alive, was at that time mayor of Hope. A man with limited education and ability, it was only due to a burning ambition – and wholesale bullying – that he attained the position of mayor in the first place. It was this same ambition that made him believe he could attain even loftier political positions – maybe even parliament!
Bliksem
! Imagine that. So it was with this misguided sense of self-worth that Frik insinuated himself into the investigation, right from day one. As can be guessed, his meddling had a seriously detrimental effect on the efforts of the detectives. Fashioning himself as the ‘champion of the people’ he insisted on total transparency in the investigation (Translation: he wanted his ‘important contribution’ to be clearly observable by his voters). As a result, he forced valuable evidence – which should have remained confidential in a case of this nature – to be leaked to the public. But Moerdyk’s meddling didn’t stop there. He insisted on daily meetings with the detectives to gauge the progress of the case and proffered a series of bizarre suspect lists – influenced more by his political dealings than anything else. In this and other ways, Mayor Moerdyk became the single biggest impediment to solving the case. Damage control was only – thankfully – applied late one night on an isolated stretch of Wide Road when Moerdyk was caught enjoying the services of a black prostitute known locally as
Maria the Mouth
. The Mayor’s unsolicited meddling – and career – both ended suddenly that Friday night. But the damage had been done. And the initiative had been lost. A possible effective strategy for apprehending the killer had been rendered ineffective. The killer simply adapted his modus operandi and thus evaded capture.

A few days after the Moerdyk incident, one of the detectives resigned to pursue interests in the private sector. He was immediately replaced by a political appointee – nephew to one of the National Party parliamentarians. Meanwhile a sadistic serial killer that exalted in the torture and violation of young boys walked unhindered amongst the community.

Just over a week after Mayor Moerdyk was unceremoniously stripped of his ambitions, the badly decomposed body of Barry Coetzee was found in the flatlands to the West of Hope. Yvette Coetzee committed suicide the following day.

On New Year’s Day of the following year, Jason Reed – aged eleven – was seen playing outside his house when he vanished into thin air.

EXTRACTS FROM A REPORT DELIVERED TO THE COMMISSIONER OF POLICE

April 1986

FOR ATT
: Colonel Paul Siebert, Commissioner of Police

RE
: Hope Homicides

DATE
: 17 April, 1986

PLACE
: Pretoria House, Roeland Street, Pretoria

PRIORITY
: High (CONFIDENTIAL)

CODE
: EX – 23 – 1L

... /page 3

PROCESS REPORT – Detective Klaas Haasbroek

(extracts)

...

Following discovery of body of homicide victim (REED, JASON) by CS WITNESS #1 (SIAPE, THOKO) on 16 January, 1986, confirmation of THIRD (3
RD
) victim of Hope serial killer. Corpse discovered in early stages of decomposition, approx TWO (2) weeks after disappearance. Body was clothed, in similar manner to previous TWO (2) victims (SEE ATTACH #1101 AND ATTACH #1102).

...

Victim’s navy blue shorts were back to front, suggesting body was clothed POST-MORTEM. Investigators conclude victim was possibly naked during time of death, and possibly for duration of incarceration.

...

Dump site was different location than previous sites (SEE ATTACH #1101 AND #1212) and further outside boundaries of Hope. Possible reason for delayed discovery of body. Investigators conclude leak to press forced killer to change MO and choose different dump site.

...

Body posed with hands folded across pubic area. Various bruises visible despite advanced decomposition. Body extremely emaciated, suggesting victim fed little or nothing during incarceration.

...

Investigators conclude perpetrator to be established part of community with fixed residence (most likely with own property) and income. White male, aged between 26 and 36. Highly likely that subject known to victims. Subject regarded as intelligent and educated and of English descent.

...

Calls to Hope Gazette traced to local public phone. Fingerprint inconclusive. Witnesses interviewed but no results yielded. Following lack of evidence at crime scene and general MO, subject regarded as highly organised killer. (SEE PSYCH REPORT).

... /page 8

(PATHOLOGY REPORT FOLLOWS)