Rage (65 page)
Authors: Wilbur Smith
âBut what are you going to do with all that?' Michael insisted. âWhat are you going to spend it on?'
âMoney isn't for spending,' Garry explained. âMoney is for saving â that is, if you want to be rich.'
âAnd you want to be rich?' Michael asked.
âWhat else is there?' Garry was genuinely puzzled by the question.
âWhat about doing an important job the best way you can? Isn't that something to strive for, even better than getting rich?'
âOh, sure!' said Garry with vast relief. âBut then, of course, you won't get rich unless you do just that.'
It was almost two in the morning when Michael at last switched off the bedside lamp and they settled down nose to toes, until Garry asked in the darkness the question he had not been able to ask until then.
âMickey, have you heard from Mater at all?'
Michael was silent for so long that he went on impetuously. âI have tried to speak to Dad about her, but he just clams up and won't say a word. Same with Nana, except she went a little further. She said, “Don't mention that
woman's name in Welteveden again. She was responsible for Blaine's murder.” I thought you might know where she is.'
woman's name in Welteveden again. She was responsible for Blaine's murder.” I thought you might know where she is.'
âShe's in London,' Michael said softly. âShe writes to me every week.'
âWhen is she coming back, Mickey?'
âNever,' Michael said. âShe and Pater are getting a divorce.'
âWhy, Mickey, what happened that she had to leave like that, without even saying goodbye?'
âI don't know. She won't say. I wrote and asked her, but she wouldn't tell me.'
Garry thought he had gone to sleep, but after a long silence Michael said so softly that he barely caught the words, âI miss her, Garry. Oh, God, how much I miss her.'
âMe too,' said Garry dutifully, but each week that passed was so filled with excitement and new experience that for Garry her memory had already faded and blurred.
The next morning Leon Herbstein called Mickey into his office.
âOK, Mickey,' he said. âWe are going to run the “Rage” article as you wrote it.' Only then did Michael realize how important that decision had been to him. For the rest of that day his jubilation was tempered by that reflection. Why was his feeling of relief so powerful? Was it the personal achievement, the thought of seeing his name in print again? It was part of that, he was honest with himself, but there was something else even deeper and more substantial. The truth. He had written the truth and the truth had prevailed. He had been exonerated.
Michael went down early the next morning and brought a copy of the
Mail
up to the bed-sitter. He woke Garry up and read the âRage' feature to him. Garry had only come in a few hours before dawn. He had spent most of the night in the computer room at the new Courtney Mining building in Diagonal Street. David Abrahams, on Shasa's discreet
suggestion, had arranged for him to have a free hand with the equipment when it was not being used on company business. This morning Garry was red-eyed with exhaustion and his jowls were covered with a dense dark pelt of new beard. However, he sat up in his pyjamas and listened with attention while Michael read to him, and when he had finished Garry put on his spectacles and sat solemnly reading it through for himself while Michael brewed coffee on the gas-ring in the corner.
up to the bed-sitter. He woke Garry up and read the âRage' feature to him. Garry had only come in a few hours before dawn. He had spent most of the night in the computer room at the new Courtney Mining building in Diagonal Street. David Abrahams, on Shasa's discreet
suggestion, had arranged for him to have a free hand with the equipment when it was not being used on company business. This morning Garry was red-eyed with exhaustion and his jowls were covered with a dense dark pelt of new beard. However, he sat up in his pyjamas and listened with attention while Michael read to him, and when he had finished Garry put on his spectacles and sat solemnly reading it through for himself while Michael brewed coffee on the gas-ring in the corner.
âIt's funny, isn't it,' Garry said at last. âHow we just take them for granted. They are there, working the shifts at the Silver River or harvesting the grapes at Weltevreden, or waiting on table. But you never think of them as actually having feelings and desires and thoughts the same as we do â not until you read something like this.'
âThank you, Garry,' Michael said softly.
âWhat for?'
âThat's the greatest compliment anybody has ever paid me,' Michael said.
He saw very little more of Garry that weekend. Garry spent the Saturday morning at the deeds registry until that office closed at noon and then went on up to the Courtney building to take over the computer as soon as the company programmers went off for their weekend.
He let himself back into the flat at three the next morning and climbed into the bottom end of Michael's bed. When they both awoke late on the Sunday morning, Michael suggested, âLet's go out to Zoo Lake. It's a hot day and the girls will be out in their sundresses.' He offered the bait deliberately for he was desperate for Garry's company, lonely and suffering from a sense of anti-climax after all the worry and uncertainty previous to the printing of the âRage' article and the subsequent apparent lack of any reaction to it.
âHey, Mickey, I'd love to come with you â but I want to do something on the computer. It's Sunday, I'll have it to
myself all day.' Garry looked mysterious and self-satisfied. âYou see, I'm on to something, Mickey. Something incredible, and I can't stop now.'
myself all day.' Garry looked mysterious and self-satisfied. âYou see, I'm on to something, Mickey. Something incredible, and I can't stop now.'
Alone Michael caught the bus out to Zoo Lake. He spent the day sitting on the lawns reading and watching the girls. It only made him feel even more lonely and insignificant. When he got back to his dreary little flatlet, Garry's bag was gone and there was a message written with soap on his shaving mirror: âGoing back to Silver River. Might see you next weekend. G.'
When Michael walked into the
Mail
's offices on the Monday morning he found that those members of the newspaper's staff who had arrived ahead of him were gathered in a silent nervous cluster in the middle of the newsroom while half a dozen strangers were going through the filing cabinets and rifling the papers and books on the desks. They had already assembled a dozen large cardboard cartons of various papers, and these were stacked in the aisle between the desks.
's offices on the Monday morning he found that those members of the newspaper's staff who had arrived ahead of him were gathered in a silent nervous cluster in the middle of the newsroom while half a dozen strangers were going through the filing cabinets and rifling the papers and books on the desks. They had already assembled a dozen large cardboard cartons of various papers, and these were stacked in the aisle between the desks.
âWhat is happening?' Michael asked innocently, and his sub gave him a warning glance as he explained.
âThese are police officers of the security branch.'
âWho are you?' The plain-clothes officer who was in charge of the detail came across to Michael, and when he gave his name the officer checked his list.
âAh, yes â you are the one we want. Come with me.' He led Michael down to Leon Herbstein's office and went in without knocking.
There was another stranger with Herbstein. âYes, what is it?' he snapped, and the security policeman answered diffidently.
âThis is the one, Captain.'
The stranger frowned at Michael, but before he could speak Leon Herbstein interrupted quickly.
âIt's all right, Michael. The police have come to serve a banning order on the Saturday edition with the âRage'
article in it, and they have a warrant to search the offices. They also want to talk to you, but it's nothing to worry about.'
article in it, and they have a warrant to search the offices. They also want to talk to you, but it's nothing to worry about.'
âDon't be too sure of that,' said the police captain heavily. âAre you the one who wrote that piece of Commie propaganda?'
âI wrote the “Rage” article,' Michael said clearly, but Leon Herbstein cut in.
âHowever, as the editor of the
Golden City Mail
it was my decision to print it, and I accept full responsibility for the article.'
Golden City Mail
it was my decision to print it, and I accept full responsibility for the article.'
The captain ignored him and studied Michael for a moment before going on. âMan, you are just a kid. What do you know, anyway?'
âI object to that, Captain,' Herbstein told him angrily. âMr Courtney is an accredited journalistâ'
âJa,' the captain nodded, âI expect that he is.' But he went on addressing Michael, âWhat about you? Do you object to coming down to Marshall Square police headquarters to help us with our investigations?'
Michael glanced at Herbstein and he said immediately, âYou don't have to go, Michael. They don't have a warrant for your arrest.'
âWhat do you want from me, Captain?' Michael hedged.
âWe want to know who told you all that treasonable stuff you wrote about.'
âI can't disclose my sources,' Michael said quietly.
âI can always get a warrant if you refuse to cooperate,' the captain warned him ominously.
âI'll come with you,' Michael agreed. âBut I won't disclose my sources. That's not ethical.'
âI'll be down there with a lawyer right away, Michael,' Herbstein promised. âYou don't have to worry, the
Mail
will back you all the way.'
will back you all the way.'
âAll right. Let's go,' said the police captain.
Leon Herbstein accompanied Michael down the
newsroom and as they passed the cartons of impounded literature the captain observed gloatingly, âMan, you've got a pile of banned stuff there, Karl Marx and Trotsky even â that's really poisonous rubbish.'
newsroom and as they passed the cartons of impounded literature the captain observed gloatingly, âMan, you've got a pile of banned stuff there, Karl Marx and Trotsky even â that's really poisonous rubbish.'
âIt's research material,' said Leon Herbstein.
âJa, try telling that to the magistrate,' the captain chortled.
As soon as the doors of the elevator closed on the captain and Michael, Herbstein trotted heavily back to his office and snatched up the telephone.
âI want an urgent call to Mr Shasa Courtney in Cape Town. Try his home at Weltevreden, his office in Centaine House and his ministerial office at the Houses of Parliament.'
He got through to Shasa in his parliamentary suite and Shasa listened in silence while Herbstein explained to him what had happened.
âAll right,' Shasa said crisply at the end of it. âYou get the Associated Newspapers lawyers down to Marshall Square immediately, then ring David Abrahams at Courtney Mining and tell him what has happened. Tell him I want a massive reaction, everything we have got. Tell him also that I will be flying up immediately in the company jet. I want a limousine at the airport to meet me, and I will go to see the Minister of Police at the Union Buildings in Pretoria the minute I arrive.'
Even Leon Herbstein, who had seen it all before, was impressed by the mobilization of the vast resources of the Courtney empire.
At ten o'clock that evening Michael Courtney was released from interrogation on the direct orders of the Minister of Police and when he walked out of the front entrance of Marshall Square headquarters he was flanked by half a dozen lawyers of formidable reputation who had been retained by Courtney Mining and Associated Newspapers.
At the pavement Shasa Courtney was waiting in the
back seat of the black Cadillac limousine. As Michael climbed in beside him, he said grimly, âIt is possible, Mickey, to be a bit too bloody clever for your own good. Just what the hell are you trying to do? Burn down everything we have worked for all our lives?'
back seat of the black Cadillac limousine. As Michael climbed in beside him, he said grimly, âIt is possible, Mickey, to be a bit too bloody clever for your own good. Just what the hell are you trying to do? Burn down everything we have worked for all our lives?'
âWhat I wrote was the truth. I thought you, of all people, would understand, Pater.'
âWhat you wrote, my boy, is incitement. Taken by the wrong people and used on simple ignorant black folk, your words could help to open a Pandora's box of horrors. I want no more of that sort of thing from you, do you hear me, Michael?'
âI hear you, Pater,' Michael said softly. âBut I can't promise to obey you. I'm sorry, but I have to live with my own conscience.'
âYou are as bad as your bloody mother,' said Shasa. He had sworn twice in as many minutes, the first time in his life that Michael had ever heard his father use coarse language. That and the mention of his mother, also the first time Shasa had done so since she left, silenced Michael completely. They drove without speaking to the Carlton Hotel. Shasa only spoke again when they were in his permanent suite.
âAll right, Mickey,' he said with resignation. âI take that back. I can't demand that you live your life on my terms. Follow your conscience, if you must, but don't expect me to come rushing in to save you from the consequences of your actions every time.'
âI have never expected that, sir,' Michael said carefully. âAnd I won't in future either.' He paused and swallowed hard. âBut all the same, sir, I want to thank you for what you did. You have always been so good to me.'
âOh, Mickey, Mickey!' Shasa cried, shaking his head sorrowfully. âIf only I could give you the experience I earned with so much pain. If only you didn't have to make exactly the same mistakes I made at your age.'
âI am always grateful for your advice, Pater,' Michael tried to placate him.
âAll right, then, here's a piece for nothing,' Shasa told him. âWhen you meet an invincible enemy you don't rush headlong at him, swinging with both fists. That way you merely get your head broken. What you do is you sneak around behind him and kick him in the backside, then run like hell.'
âI'll remember that, sir,' Michael grinned, and Shasa put his arm around his shoulders. âI know you smoke like a bush fire, but can I offer you a drink, my boy?'
âI'll have a beer, sir.'
The next day Michael drove out to visit Solomon Nduli at Drake's Farm. He wanted to have his views on the âRage' article, and tell him of the consequences he had suffered at Marshall Square.
That was not necessary. Solomon Nduli somehow knew every detail of his detention and interrogation and Michael found he was a celebrity in the offices of Assegai magazine. Nearly every one of the black journalists and magazine staff wanted to shake his hand and congratulate him on the article.
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