Silent Predator (25 page)

‘Not at all. The pleasure is all mine. It is not every day that we get reports of a senior politician being abducted by terrorists.’

He led them around the charge counter down the corridor to another room, which was his office. Tom and Sannie took bare metal chairs in front of a large
antique wooden desk. Capitao Alfredo sat in a leather office chair. ‘Cigarette?’

They declined, but Alfredo lit up a Benson & Hedges anyway. Behind him on the wall was a map of Mozambique and a second one, which Tom couldn’t see clearly but guessed was of the local area. There were coloured pins stuck at intervals on what looked like the main north–south road. On the desk was an open Styrofoam takeaway food container with the bones of a half-chicken in it. Tom smelled chilli and fat. ‘You have heard that one of my officers saw a suspicious vehicle that matches the description of the one you are seeking?’

‘Yes, Captain …’ Sannie said.

‘Please, call me Alfredo.’

Sannie smiled. She was a white Afrikaner and he was a black African, but Tom thought the captain’s eyes were pure Latino when he looked at the attractive blonde. He also thought he saw a trace of a blush on Sannie’s cheeks. ‘Well, Alfredo, yes, we have heard that you are looking for the same Toyota HiLux we are pursuing and that one of your officers may have seen the vehicle in question.’

Tom was impressed at how she was winging it. The truth was that they only now knew they were looking for a Toyota because one of Alfredo’s men had told them that was the vehicle they had been warned to look out for. Tom and Sannie were still behind in the game, but this was their chance to catch up and, hopefully, get ahead.

Alfredo stood and turned to the maps behind him. ‘
Sim
,’ he nodded. ‘In fact, more than one of my people
have seen it. After the bulletin came through, one of my men at Chisanno recalled seeing a HiLux with a tinted rear cab pass by him. He recalled it as unusual because the other windows on the double cab were untinted. He saw the
bakkie
about one o’clock this afternoon. You can talk with him if you wish. I have had him called to the station in case. I thought this may be the vehicle and warned all of my officers to be extra vigilant.’

He gave them a long, thoughtful look, as though giving them time to appreciate how efficient he had been in his policing. Perhaps, Tom thought, he was waiting for praise for having done his job. Just get on with it, he willed the man.

‘And then?’ Sannie prompted.

Tom looked at his watch.

Alfredo turned back to the map and planted a bony finger on a dot. ‘Here. Near Chongoene, about thirteen kilometres north-east of Xai Xai, later in the afternoon a HiLux with a tinted rear cab but untinted front cab ignored a direction by one of my officers to stop.’

‘Why did he flag it down? Did he recognise it as the suspect vehicle?’ Tom asked.

Alfredo turned back to him and shook his head. ‘Regrettably, no. The officers’ radio was unfortunately not working, but the vehicle was speeding. Sixty-five in a sixty zone.’

Tom thought the captain had talked about the crime as though it was one step removed from murder. ‘They didn’t pursue it?’

Alfredo shook his head again. ‘This is a poor
country, Detective Sergeant Furey. Not all of my officers have cars or motorcycles. They had no way of pursuing the Toyota, but the officer used his cell phone to call the next checkpoint, at Chidenguele. The officers there said the description matched that of the suspect vehicle you have
lost
.’

The emphasis did not escape Tom, and he remained silent.

‘And that checkpoint notified you?’ Sannie ventured, looking for a way to defuse the confrontation before it began.

Alfredo smiled at her efforts. ‘Yes, Sannie. I ordered the police in the speed traps to set up roadblocks and check every
bakkie
passing through that area.’

She nodded. It was good policing and a swift reaction.

‘However,’ Alfredo continued, taking his seat again and, as though he had just got back from running after the truck himself, mopping his brow with one of the serviettes that had come with the takeaway chicken, ‘the vehicle never reached Chidenguele.’

‘You’re sure?’ Tom said, almost instantly regretting the words.

‘I am sure, Detective Sergeant.’

‘Hard to miss it with a static roadblock in place,’ Sannie said, as much in reproof of Tom for doubting the Mozambican officer’s word as in support of Alfredo. ‘May I?’ She stood and walked around the enormous desk so she could study the map more closely. Alfredo swivelled in his chair and looked up at her.

‘As you will see,’ he said, ‘there is a side road they could have taken, away from the coast.’

‘Or they could be somewhere here.’ Sannie circled the stretch between Chongoene and Chidenguele. ‘About forty-five kilometres of coastline.’

‘Didn’t you say this is one of the busiest parts of Mozambique?’ Tom observed. ‘We were thinking they might prefer somewhere more remote, perhaps further north.’

Alfredo started to speak, but Sannie beat him to it. ‘The established coastal resorts, such as Xai Xai and Bilene, further south, are busy, but this part of the coast is still very empty, if I’m not mistaken, Capitao?’

Alfredo nodded. ‘
Sim
, Sannie. There are only a few resorts, but they are mostly quite inaccessible. One needs a four-wheel drive to get into them because of the coastal sand dunes in this area.’

Sannie looked back at Tom. ‘Remote, inaccessible to most vehicles, on the coast …’

‘Perfect,’ Tom agreed. ‘And still only a couple of hours’ drive from Maputo if they need to fly anywhere or disappear into a city.’

‘Some of the beaches – mostly those near the resorts – are protected by natural reefs, so you could bring a small boat in or out as well,’ she said.

‘Captain,’ Tom said, trying his best to sound humble and beseeching, ‘what assets do you have at your disposal to search this part of the coastline?’

‘Naturally, I will devote what resources I can to this task,’ Alfredo said. ‘It is, of course, of great importance to the British government and I would hope that they would be grateful for the assistance of our poor police force.’ He spread his hands wide, over the desk, palms upwards.

Tom half wondered if he was expected to pay a bribe at this point. He forced the uncharitable thought from his mind. ‘Vehicles?’ he said.

‘I have four cars and two motorcycles, though only one four-wheel drive – my own Land Cruiser – which we will, of course, use to investigate any leads that my officers turn up.’

This hardly filled Tom with confidence. ‘Boats?’

‘Alas,’ Alfredo said, shrugging his shoulders, ‘there are some inflatable boats, donated to the police by the government of Portugal, at the
praia
, but they all have punctures.’

‘The
praia
? What’s that, the beach?’

Sannie nodded. ‘The
Praia do Xai Xai
, the town’s beach, is about ten kilometres from here.’

‘I will have my officers contact all of the accessible villages and resorts on this stretch of the coast first thing tomorrow morning,’ Alfredo said, standing as if to signal their meeting was over. ‘If we receive word of the stolen vehicle I will be ready to depart, at a moment’s notice, in my Land Cruiser. I will keep four men here with me, armed with AK 47s, to act as the reaction force.’

‘Thank you, Capitao. We are very grateful to you for staying back to meet us, and for your kind offer of assistance in the morning. We will be here first thing to monitor the search.’ Sannie stood and nodded to Tom to do the same. Her look told him to keep his mouth shut.

Tom turned on her as they walked outside into the sticky, salty night air. ‘What the fuck is all this mañana bullshit? We’re wasting time.’

‘Easy, easy.’ She placed a hand on his arm, as she had done at the border. ‘Look at the realities of policing in Africa, Tom. This guy’s got no boats, no helicopter, one four-by-four and a few bicycles. You saw the station – it’s empty except for him and the woman on duty. All of his officers will be off in their villages by now. The police here spend most of the time standing by the side of the roads with speed cameras, or on roadblocks hassling tourists. You’re not going to get a SWAT team rappelling out of the sky, no matter how much you want it.’

‘I’ve got to get on a phone and tell the people back in the UK. They might even have people on the ground by now, in South Africa or here. At least we’ve got the vehicle confined to a limited geographic area.’

‘Exactly.’ She removed her hand from his arm. ‘I’ll do the same with my people and until we can get some back-up over here, I’m afraid there’s not very much more we can do until Alfredo gets his people on the job tomorrow morning.’

Tom walked away from her towards the Volkswagen, his fists clenching and unclenching as he went. He felt like hitting something, running somewhere, getting in the car and charging up and down the coast road in pursuit of a vehicle they had only a vague description of. It was all so maddeningly frustrating. All the long day he’d been just a step behind the abductors. They were close, but close wasn’t good enough in this game. He turned and saw Sannie standing there, giving him space to vent. ‘It’s not about me, Sannie. I want you to know –’

‘I know, Tom,’ she said sympathetically.

‘I’m probably finished as a protection officer no matter how this pans out. I cocked up royally and I deserve all I’ll get, but there are two men’s lives at stake here. I can’t just sit on a beach and do nothing.’

‘It’s why I’m here as well. God knows, I’ve probably screwed my career up too.’ She tried to force a laugh, but it was hollow and they both knew it – her words were too close to the truth. ‘But we’ll do more harm than good charging around blindly, and you know it. Say we did find the vehicle by ourselves and went in there, guns blazing …’

‘They outnumber and outgun us,’ he conceded.

‘If we make a mess of it, the first thing they’ll do is kill the hostages. You know that, Tom. This is the time for others – the military, whoever – to make a plan to rescue them. But we can still look for them. Tomorrow. Carefully.’

He sighed and slumped against the car. ‘Christ, I’m hungry – and thirsty. But I keep thinking how bad things must be for Bernard and Greeves.’

‘They know you’re on their trail, Tom. You nearly caught them in Kruger. That will keep your men alive. That will give them hope.’

‘So where to next? A hotel?’

Sannie shook her head. ‘African towns aren’t generally renowned for the choice of accommodation. I don’t like the look of anywhere I’ve seen so far. Hotels in small towns often double as brothels.’

‘So where, then?’

‘The beach is about ten kilometres from here. There’s a municipal camping ground that has some
small chalets. We stayed there a few years ago. It’s not luxury, but it should be okay.’

Tom shrugged. He was, as he had been from the moment he touched down in Africa, out of his depth and totally reliant on her. It wasn’t a bad feeling – not nearly as bad as the frustration he felt now that it appeared they would be spinning their wheels for twelve hours until morning. ‘Lead on.’

Sannie drove, and after the main road took them up a hill, out of the centre of town, she turned right at a sign with a beach umbrella on it that said
Praia do Xai Xai
. There were no streetlights, and only pinpricks of illumination showed in the dark from lanterns in villagers’ homes. The Volkswagen careened up and down a roller-coaster of hills which were under cultivation with bananas, and other crops that Tom couldn’t make out. Unlike the townships he’d passed through on the way into Kruger, the villagers here seemed to have left plenty of mature trees growing amid their homes, either for shade or to help stabilise the sandy hills they lived on.

The road to the beach ended in a roundabout on top of a cliff and Sannie swung left onto a side road that deteriorated rapidly from potholed tar to dirt as they wound down towards the Indian Ocean. The wind was up and Tom could see white horses pinpricking the dark sea through the gloom. He smelled salt air through the open window and, despite the breeze, it was still warm outside. As they drove down the hill he saw holiday homes that looked like they had come out of a 1970s timeshare brochure. There were curving verandahs, angular geometric designs, and lots of
whitewash. Some of the villas still looked run-down, though many, he noticed, had been spruced up with a coat of pastel paint and had well-tended gardens. One particularly nice place, re-done in an ochre coloured render, had its own security guard out front in a blue beret and military-style uniform.

Sannie momentarily seemed to have lost her bearings at the bottom of the hill. ‘Sorry, should have turned left, not right,’ she said, executing a three-point turn. In front of them was a multistorey white concrete hotel, but no lights were shining in its rooms. Tom looked back as Sannie changed directions and caught a glimpse of the hotel’s facade. It was completely gutted. The rooms were empty – all the glass panes and, presumably, all the contents, were gone. In its way, the hotel reminded Tom of Egyptian temples in the Valley of the Kings, or the ruined city of Petra, in Jordan, which he’d visited while protecting a former foreign secretary. The hotel was yet another relic of a disappeared people. He wondered if someone would reopen the hotel one day, though from what Sannie had said, the tourism boom had bypassed sleepy, rundown Xai Xai in favour of nicer beachfront real estate further north.

At the gates of
Campismo do Xai Xai
, an elderly African security guard greeted and led them through the camping ground, which was set back from the beach below a line of low dunes topped with trees and hedges. Tom noted a security fence amid the shrubbery, but also saw it had been trampled in places. There were neon lights in several trees around the small camping area, though about one in two seemed to be broken.
There were only two parties of campers – a couple in a caravan towed by a Mazda pick-up which looked like it had seen better days, and an old Toyota Cressida parked next to a two-man tent. It hardly looked like a playground of the rich and famous.