Gun Dealing (The Ryder Quartet Book 2) (19 page)

‘BPA?’

‘Sorry, I forgot. You guys.
Tsk, tsk
. I give you detectives far too
much credit. Blood Pattern Analysis. When you’ve got a moment, ask your nice
KoeksnDips detectives to give you a tutorial on blood spatter patterns. Better
still, ask young Mavis Tshabalala. I think she’s going to be a bit of a star.
But tell them all that I want to be the one to mark any exam paper you might
write on the subject. In brief, Jeremy, this sergeant Dlamini guy was shot at a
distance of at least eight feet. Last time I looked, when I checked the corpse,
his arms were a little shorter than eight feet in length.’

‘
Jeez
.’

‘Yup, and wanna hear more?’

‘Please, Nadine.’

‘Dlamini’s bullet entered his throat,
went through the thyroid cartilage, straight through the bone of the fifth
cervical vertebra, through the chair, and well into the wall behind him.
Determined bullet, don’t you think? Do you know of any 9 mms from a Vektor Z88
that can do that?’

‘Can’t say that I do.’

‘Me neither. So I had already dug the
slug out of the wall on my first visit on Wednesday and the ballistics results
have now just come through, courtesy of my gorgeous assistant.’

Silence.

‘Are you there, Jeremy?’

‘I’m all ears, Nadine.’

‘Shame. I noticed. Did they call you
wingnut at school?’

‘I still love you, Nadine, even if
you’re so horrible to me. Go on. Tell me what you’ve got.’

‘Well, before I tell you the big thing,
let me just add this. The Z88 in Dlamini’s hand was certainly fired, no doubt
about that. One bullet missing from the magazine. One bullet recently fired.
But the reason there was no GSR on Dlamini’s hand or lower arms or neck was
that the single bullet from the Vektor had been fired by a hand other than his.
And fired not into Dlamini but into his mattress in the bedroom. Fired all the
way up from the foot of the mattress toward the head of the mattress, neatly
staying within the mattress with no exit hole. That mattress has now had an
autopsy. The stuffing is all over my lab, along with a lovely little 9mm slug
in very good shape. Now, detectives as sharp as you are obviously know why one
would want to do something strange like shoot into a mattress like that.’

‘You’ve probably got 14 reasons,
Nadine. I can only think of two.’

‘Have a go.’

‘Shoot into the mattress to keep the
sound muffled?’

‘Got one of them, Jeremy.’

‘And at the same time fire off a
round to get rid of it in a nice hiding place so that when you put the gun in
the dead guy’s hand it looks as if the single bullet that has been shot from
the weapon is the one that...’

‘I’m so proud of you Detective Ryder,
and no, I don’t have 14 reasons. Only two. The same two as you.’

‘Where does that leave us, Nadine?’

‘Sergeant Dlamini was shot in the
throat by a person or persons unknown. Said person or persons shot him at a
distance of about eight feet, not with a 9mm bullet from the Vektor Z88 found
in his right hand, but with a .44 round fired from a Magnum. A Desert Eagle.
Marx XIX. Want to hear the best bit?’

‘I have a feeling you’re about to
tell me, Nadine.’

‘The same Desert Eagle that we picked
up from your living room floor on Wednesday night.’

12.15.

Thabethe had dug up his secret stash
again. He took the remaining twelve thousand rands from the tin and then
re-buried it, empty. Need to replenish soon, he thought. He covered the ground,
threw some detritus and leaves over it, and made his way back to the road where
he had parked the car.

 He wondered whether Mkhize had
established contact with Big Red. Maybe it was too soon. It would take him
time. But no harm in trying him to see how he was doing.

Mkhize was nowhere to be seen around
Nomivi’s. Thabethe didn’t bother to ask anyone for him. He just looked around
the place himself. Even went to the back. The room was locked.

He sat behind the wheel and drew out
the cell-phone. Then he paused.

Another call to Spikes? What if the
cops were tracing? He decided against it. Probably too soon, anyway. Let Mkhize
have some time to get to Big Red.

He hoped it wouldn’t take too long.
he needed to turn his twelve grand into something much bigger. Short of a
lucrative robbery, he couldn’t think of a better way of doing this than buying
and selling
whoonga
.

He drove off. Aimlessly, not knowing
what his next step should be. But obsessed by the thought of Ryder. The thought
of that cop was bothering him. Big time.

12.35.

Nadine was seated in one of the two
guest chairs in Nyawula’s office. Pillay sat in the other. Nyawula and Ryder
were standing in front of the desk, leaning back against it. All four of them
had a mug of coffee.

‘It’s good of you to come over here
in this damn traffic, Nadine. I’m only sorry Mavis isn’t here. She’s in a
workshop this afternoon, and then she’s involved in funeral preparations after
that. She thoroughly enjoyed the lesson with you this morning. Thanks very much
for that.’

‘It was an absolute pleasure. She’s
gonna go far.’

‘We think so, too. Anyway, Nadine,
shoot. We’re in your hands.’

‘OK, Captain. Having updated Jeremy
barely an hour ago on the Desert Eagle connection between the attempted hit on
his home and the Dlamini murder, no sooner had I put the phone down to him than
new evidence came up from the work we’ve been doing in the lab. So after
checking it out I thought it best to give you this new stuff face to face. And
anyway your coffee is so much better than ours, Captain.’

‘We know that, Nadine. We’re very
proud of it. It’s the only thing that keeps Detective Ryder with us.’

‘So I hear. Anyway, Captain, remember
me saying to you on the phone yesterday morning that my interest had been
aroused by the Desert Eagle used at the Ryder home?’

‘You told me you were interested
because of those Umlazi cases a couple of years back.’

‘That’s right.
 
We’ve kept an open file on those Umlazi
homicides ever since. When we removed the slugs from those bodies at the time
we hoped that the weapon might reappear one day. Since then, whenever we pick
up a Desert Eagle we routinely run the ballistics against
 
the records of those slugs. So when we
linked this particular weapon not only to the Dlamini murder but to those old
homicide cases, we
realised
that the guy who
foolishly took on Detective Ryder in his own home might have had some really
interesting connections. But we were still unable to place him at the KwaDukuza
crime scene on Sunday evening.’

‘Did you say
were
, Nadine?’ said Ryder.

‘Uh-huh. We can now do that.’

‘Brilliant!’ said Pillay.

‘I’m all ears,’ said Nyawula. Which
prompted an exchange of looks between Nadine and Ryder, and a very slight smile
from Ryder as she continued.

‘We’re focusing on this guy Themba.
The DNA we picked up from him didn’t give us anything to place him at
KwaDukuza, and although we’ve ascertained without any question that it was his
two buddies who violated Cst. Xana, we still had nothing to place him there as
the third perpetrator. Until now. I’ve been doing some work on the guy’s shoes.
He wore interesting shoes to the Ryder dinner party. Maybe he had heard of the
high dress standards required in that household.’

‘So I’ve been told,’ said Nyawula.

‘No question,’ said Pillay. ‘
Mrs
Ryder sets high standards in fashion.’

Ryder didn’t offer a riposte.

‘Anyway, captain, this guy Themba’s
shoes were quite snazzy, with distinctive treads. So I ran the information on
his shoes against the footprints at the KwaDukuza scene. I’m happy to say we
can now place him there along with his two nasty buddies.’

There was glee all around, Pillay and
Ryder exchanging low fives, and a few exchanges among them about tightening the
case against the three perps. Nadine continued.

‘There’s something else, Captain.’

‘What’s that, Nadine? I’m beginning
to think you’re quite good at making my day.’

‘Those same lovely shoes worn by the
charming Themba fellow also left prints all the way from Dlamini’s back door,
around the side of his house, and into Isithupha Close. In addition, although
he was careful enough to wipe his prints off the service pistol he placed into
Dlamini’s hand, he failed to wipe his prints from the outside of the back door
where he picked the yale lock.’

Amid the expressions of approval and
congratulations, Nyawula’s voice was most prominent.

‘You’re definitely going on to my
Christmas card list, Nadine. Give her some more coffee, someone.’

‘No thanks, I’m still fine with this
one. Anyway, just to offer a suggestion for the way forward,’ continued Nadine,
‘I like to look into the relationships between different guns used in different
hits. I’m still looking for the third SIG Sauer from KwaDukuza, and now that we
know that our Desert Eagle Themba guy was the third perpetrator at that event,
and that he was therefore using the third SIG at the time, with all the stuff
we have on him it should be quite interesting to question him on how he came to
exchange his SIG for the Desert Eagle he used at both the Dlamini house and the
Ryder house.’

‘So in Sunday evening’s hit at
KwaDukuza he was using a SIG, and in Tuesday evening’s hit at Lucky Dlamini’s
he was using a Deagle. During that forty-eight hour period he exchanged his SIG
for the Deagle.’

‘Exactly, Jeremy,’ said Nadine, ‘and
he then came on to your house twenty-four hours later with the same weapon.’

‘Time for some interrogation down at
the hospital, Captain?’

‘Definitely, Jeremy. But you won’t
use the Trewhella method, will you? No rough stuff. You’ve already broken two
of his limbs and some other bones.’

‘I’ll be gentle, Captain. Promise.
I’ll take Navi with me.’

‘That’s being gentle? Detective
Pillay?’

‘I’ll ignore that, Captain,’ said
Pillay.

‘
Oooo
,’ said Nadine, ‘I love
visiting your station, Captain Nyawula. Everyone is so butch here.’

‘OK, everyone. Back to work. Nadine,
you’re a star. Thank you.’

‘My pleasure, Captain.’

They began to disperse in a buzz of
comments and witticisms.

15.05.

Thabethe’s blood ran cold.

He had been trying for hours to get
information on what might have happened to the three gangsters and Ryder. He
didn’t want to risk another call to the phones of either Macks or Mavuso. He
had gone into an internet cafe and searched for any incidents that might have
taken place in the last couple of days in Westville.

He looked at the Durban
Organised
Crime Unit Facebook site where there were regular
updates on incidents, especially hits and attempted hits on cops. Nothing.

He searched other sites, looking in
the Durban area for Assault with GBH, Murder, Attempted Murder, Robbery
Aggravated, Robbery Residential. Nothing. Had the three guys gone for the hit
on Ryder? Had they decided against it?

Then he heard the radio newsflash. No
names. But an attack on the Westville home of
a senior police officer
. Attackers overpowered. All three suspects
apprehended. All three being held under police guard in hospital after
sustaining injuries in the attack. He noticed that the normal phrase
minor injuries
was not used.

Thabethe stormed out into the street
in a panic. What if they talk? What if Ryder starts tracking back and finds
some connection?

What to do?

He had to find somewhere to think
through the implications.

15.10.

Ryder and Pillay left the hospital
feeling elated. The interrogation of Themba had proceeded far better than they
might have anticipated. In the presence of his State-assigned lawyer, once they
had confronted him with some of the evidence that had already been secured, and
dropped deliberate
tantalisers
about how any
co-operation from him might determine whether or not he died in jail as an old
man, he began to sprout. When his lawyer tried to intervene he told her to shut
up and let him do it his way,
ntombazana!
She seemed thereafter to have very little inclination to warn him any further
of his rights, and simply took notes.

He gave the detectives the full story
about how he’d lost the third SIG and his cell-phone in the bush near the
beach, how they’d gone back in a panic and searched the place, and how after
three hours neither pistol nor phone was to be found.

The two detectives believed him on
that score. There seemed no logical reason to disbelieve him when, to the
consternation of his lawyer, he was busy spilling his guts on everything else.
The pistol and phone were indeed probably found by parties unknown, they
concluded. They came to this conclusion because the patient seemed drained of
any will to resist further and because he gave them, quite freely, the details
of the weapon and the number of the lost cell-phone. He seemed to have thrown
in the towel.