Daddy Long Legs (42 page)

The moment he hit the golden shores of Kwazulu-Natal he was going to phone a girl. A pretty girl in Johannesburg ... called Lindsey.

But for now there was only the open road.

The local radio station was playing
Sweet Home Alabama
by Lynyrd Skynyrd. Kyle pumped the volume. And pulled away with tyres tearing up the tarmac.

Damn! It felt good to be alive.

Detective Wayne Human pulled up to the address. And walked slowly to the front door. He rang the doorbell. And waited. A few seconds later someone came shuffling up to the door. It was opened.

‘Detective Human? What a surprise. Please come in.’

‘Good morning, Inspector van Staden. Thank you.’ Human stepped into the darkened interior of the old man’s house. ‘I heard you’ve taken an early retirement,’ he said, as the ex policeman lead him to the living room.

‘Yes, I have.’ He pointed Human to a seat, and sat down himself. ‘It wasn’t an easy decision. I’ve been a policeman for so long, you know.’

‘Yes, of course, I understand perfectly. I’m considering retirement myself, in fact.’

‘No, really?’ The old man looked genuinely surprised. ‘But you have such a ... such an illustrious career.’

‘Oh well, it’s one of those things.’

‘I see.’ The two men looked at each other for a moment. ‘So what brings you to this part of the world? I thought the case had been wrapped up. Why come back to Hope?’

‘Well, actually, it’s related to my retirement.’

‘Really?’

‘Oh yes, I wanted to wrap up a few ... loose ends, shall we say, before I take the big step.’

‘Nothing too serious, I hope.’

‘Well, of course, that depends on your definition of “serious”.’

‘Yes, I suppose it does.’ Inspector Gerhardt van Staden looked at Human oddly for a moment.

‘I actually just wanted to drop by, and see how you were doing.’

‘Why, thank you, detective. That’s incredibly considerate of you. Especially considering everything that you’ve been through.’ He studied the scar that ran along Human’s neck. ‘How are your injuries? Have you recuperated fully?’

‘Oh yes, I’m in good health. Those Bloemfontein doctors did an amazing job.’

‘Yes, despite everything else that’s going on, this country still continues to produce magnificent doctors.’

‘Absolutely. Without a doubt.’ Human leaned forward. ‘Our policemen aren’t bad either.’

Van Staden chuckled. ‘Yes, yes, of course. Too true.’ His eyes lit up. ‘Oh, by the way, detective, I never had an opportunity to thank you for the amazing work that you did. I am so grateful that you finally caught the man that had taken my precious son from me, all those years ago. Well, in a manner of speaking. He deserved a shallow grave, I tell you. A dreadful man.’

‘Yes, a dreadful man, to be sure.’

Silence.

‘Thank you, once again, detective. You’re a remarkable policeman.’

‘The pleasure is mine, Inspector. All mine.’

Silence.

‘Well, if that’s quite all, detective, I’m going to have to ask you to excuse me. I have so much to take care of this morning.’

‘Yes, of course. I wouldn’t want to keep you.’ Human stood up. The old man looked relieved as he led Human to the door.

‘Thank you for taking the time to come and see me, detective. I really do appreciate it.’

‘Of course, it’s the least I could do.’

At the door, Human stopped dead. And turned around slowly. ‘Oh, there’s just one more thing.’ Van Staden looked vexed. Impatient.

‘Yes? How may I help you, detective?’

Human looked at van Staden intently. ‘I know
how
you killed your son. What I want to know is ... why?’

There was a stunned silence. Moments passed as the two policemen eyed each other in the dappled light of the living room.

‘I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about, detective.’ The old man smiled nervously.

‘Oh, I think you do. You see, I had a careful look at your service record. You were reprimanded more than once for your heavy drinking. In addition, you were known to have, shall we say, a violent temper.’ Van Staden gave Human an icy stare but said nothing. ‘So, what I want to know is, exactly how did it happen? Did you have a bad day? A bad week? Maybe you came home on that fateful day, in a foul mood. A bout of heavy drinking exacerbated your mood. Maybe your wife was late with the dinner. Maybe your son played too loudly. Maybe he didn’t obey an order as quickly as you wanted him to.’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, Detective Human.’ The mood in the enclosed space was hostile. Belligerent.

‘You struck out. Maybe you hit him. Your vile mood, fuelled by the alcohol, meant that the blow was lethal. Whatever the case, on that December evening, in 1986, you took the life of your only son.’

‘Do I need a lawyer, detective?’

‘You need a lot more than that, Inspector. You see, what happened that night was a tragedy,’ Human continued. ‘A terrible tragedy. But what followed, what you did next, was nothing short of an abomination. A vicious and heartless series of crimes.’

‘Detective, I invoke my right to remain silent. You have absolutely no proof.’ His eyes narrowed as he glared at Human. ‘I think it’s time for you to leave.’ Van Staden moved forward forcefully. But Human didn’t budge.

‘Really? No proof? We have fingerprints,’ Human said, lying. ‘And we have DNA,’ he said, lying once more. ‘It’s amazing the strides that have been taken in forensic science since the mid 80’s, Inspector.’ For the first time there was a visible chink in van Staden’ armour. Human pushed harder.  ‘You see, instead of facing up to your crime – an unfortunate accident, after all – you instead engaged in a series of cowardly acts. Deeds that not only served to conceal your crime, but also managed to bedevil the entire investigation for more than twenty years. Right up to the present.’ Van Staden’s bottom lip began to quiver. And tears began to moisten his eyes. ‘Firstly, in a mercenary and heartless fashion, you prepared your son’s corpse, violating and injuring his young body, so as to make it appear as if the so-called Daddy Long Legs killer had abducted, tortured and killed him.’

Thick tears flowed down van Staden’s cheeks. ‘I ... I ...’

Human pushed forward, relentless. ‘Then you broke into the forensics room at the Hope police station, and you stole various items relating to at least a third of the victims. And then, if that wasn’t enough, when the killer appeared to resurface a few months back, you continued sabotaging the investigation. Completely disregarding the danger that this posed to the lives of all the children of Hope. How many more lives may have been lost due to your callous and selfish acts, Inspector?’

Van Staden fell to his knees, now sobbing like a little boy. ‘Oh my God, I’m sorry. I’m sorry ...’

‘And then, in a grand finale, when I announced that I was looking at old case files, you torched the offices of the Hope Detective Division, hoping to destroy any remaining evidence that would point a finger at you.’

Van Staden crawled forward on his knees. And hugged Human’s legs. ‘Oh please, oh dear God, please ... I am so sorry ...’

‘But you see, Inspector, your son was unfortunately not your final victim. Because I do believe that, at some stage, your wife became aware of your crime. And for whatever reason, she chose not to betray you. But the knowledge of what you had done was destroying her. It was eating her alive. Together with the knowledge of her own complicity in the matter, I’m sure. But whatever the case, when the killer supposedly resurfaced, she took her life. It had all, finally, become too much. Not what the killer had done. But what you had done.’

Van Staden’s body was racked by sobs as he tightly hugged Human’s legs. ‘Please forgive me, I beg of you, please forgive me ...’

‘It is not up to me to forgive you, Inspector.’ Human had to play his cards perfectly now. All they had were the suspicions. Nothing else. ‘You first have to forgive yourself, Inspector van Staden. You will never be free until you forgive yourself. And to achieve absolution, you have to confess, Inspector. You have to confess. Before me. Before God. You have to confess. Tell me what you did, Inspector. Tell me everything.’

‘Oh my God, I’m so sorry, so sorry,’ the old man bawled, ‘I did it. I did it. I did it. I took the life of my only son. My beautiful, beautiful baby boy. I took his life. I reached out and I punched him. And I broke him. I broke his neck. And I killed him. And then –’ Van Staden cried hysterically.

‘What then, Inspector? What then?’

‘I burnt his corpse, his beautiful exquisite corpse ... with ... with ... cigarettes and I bruised him ... and I ... I ... I sodomised him ... with an axe handle ...’ Van Staden lay at Human’s feet, curled up in a tight ball, sobbing ceaselessly. ‘And I did everything to make it look ... oh dear God ... I did it all. Oh God help me.’

‘And what about the theft of the forensics items, Inspector. Tell me!’ Human shouted down at the prostrate man.

‘Yes, oh God, I did it. I did it all.’

‘And the fire? What about the fire?’

‘Yes, yes, yes. I did it that too. Oh God ...’

And then finally, despite the nature of his crimes, Human felt pity for the shell of a man at his feet. And he relented. He spoke into the lapel of his jacket. ‘You got that?’ Inside his ear, emitted from a concealed earpiece, Human received confirmation. They got the whole confession on tape. ‘Come get him.’

A few seconds later, the front door flew open and a group of detectives charged inside. Human nodded and they disentangled the hysterical ex-policeman from his legs. ‘Good work, sir,’ detective Botha said, giving a curt nod to Human.

‘Thanks,’ he said as they led van Staden to the waiting police van.

Standing alone in the small foyer for a moment, Human took a deep breath. And walked outside. It was a beautiful winter’s day. The sun was shining. And the vast world was full of awesome possibility.

Walking slowly down the steps of the van Staden
stoep
, Human hoped that he would never see this town again as long as he lived.

Yes.

It was over. It was all over.

Finally.

The End

Finally

                                                                                                  Bloemfontein, South Africa

                                                                                                                February 1
st
, 2013

Vernon William Baumann was born in Ermelo, South Africa in the distant mists of time known as the early 70’s. He spent eight years working as a copywriter in the South African advertising industry. He won a Pendoring Advertising award in 1999.

Feeling a deep yearning to write and watching his waning youth, he made a huge sacrifice and abandoned his advertising career. He returned to the town of his youth to begin the arduous task of beginning a writing career.

Vernon William Baumann currently resides in Bloemfontein, South Africa, with his wife, cats and two dogs. He lectures at the University of the Free State.

Vernon writes under two names:

Vernon William Baumann – Science fiction, conspiracy and esoteric fiction.

Vernon W. Baumann – crime / espionage thrillers and true crime.

Check out my other titles:

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The only thing we have to fear ... is the end of the world.”

Franklin D. Roosevelt

(Propaganda Minister for the National Socialist government of Germany)

What does a ritualistic murder in 1940’s South Africa have to do with the end of the world? What is the Third Chamber? And why would the Guardians of the Chamber die – and kill – to protect its terrifying secrets?

Detective Chief Inspector Logan must confront enigmatic suspects, secret societies as well as bizarre anachronisms and historical oddities as he battles to discover the enigma behind the Third Chamber. It’s a race against time as the world around him slowly descends into chaos ... and Apocalypse.

Part Science-fiction, part murder mystery, this strange tale is a bizarre journey into a world where nothing makes sense. Yet where everything has a secret meaning.

Hurtling towards a startling and horrific conclusion, the Third Chamber holds the riddle to mankind’s extinction ... and genesis.

Dare you enter the Third Chamber?

Jesus Killer: The Jimmy Maketta Story

Out of the darkness he came. And into the darkness he disappeared.
In his wake, he left a string of bloodied corpses. And forever imprinted his dark signature upon a helpless community.
This is the haunting true story of Jimmy Maketta – the serial killer that terrorised a Western Cape farming community for nine dreadful months during 2005.
Striking with impunity – and blinding hatred – he took fourteen lives; helpless victims strangled, bludgeoned or hacked to death. And each time he would vanish again, disappearing into the shadowy dunes that bordered the township of Philippi. Leaving behind yet another corpse – and the troubling crude graffiti messages, warning intended victims that he was coming for them.
Take a journey into the dark mind of a psychopath. And discover the twisted world of a killer with the disturbing moniker. The Jesus Killer.
WARNING: GRAPHIC CRIME-SCENE IMAGES

The Disappeared

The Mysterious Death of RJS

Please feel free to contact me at:

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