The First Rule Of Survival (32 page)

‘It was, a few minutes ago. You deliberately brought it up.’

‘I mentioned my book. I will not divulge its contents.’

‘But if Dr Dyk was an old family friend . . .’

‘Which, as I stated, he was not . . .’

‘. . . a colleague who predicted, quite incorrectly, that the abducted children were the likely victims of child-trafficking,
exactly as you proposed
. You would not mention him as a fellow expert who gave the same false advice—’

‘The advice was not false.’

‘The advice was wrong; the opposite of correct.’

‘The advice was offered in good faith. I can only speak for myself. Dr Dyk concluded much as I did, based on the information available to us. I am sure that others in our position would have done the same.’

‘Did you discuss the case with Dr Dyk before he advised the SAPS?’

‘No.’

‘Not at the time of the original kidnapping, nor later?’

‘No.’

‘You didn’t try to contact him for your television programme?’

‘No.’

‘Why was that? You asked
me
to appear on your programme.’

‘You refused.’

‘Why did you not approach Dr Dyk? As a friend and close colleague, he might have been more inclined to accept.’

Steinhauer narrows his eyes. ‘You continue to insert words I have not used into your quotations of me. It is a pointless activity for you. I remember very well what I said, and the tapes will back me up. So, I repeat, solely for your benefit: Dr Dyk and I were never professional colleagues, nor would I regard him as a friend. As far as my television programme was concerned, it was my producers who made such decisions on who should appear as a guest.’

‘You never made suggestions?’

Steinhauer bridles. ‘Naturally, I had influence. I certainly suggested subject matter and those who might contribute to it.’

‘Did you suggest inviting me?’

‘No – I don’t recall. Probably not.’

‘Why not?’

‘I don’t have much faith in policemen.’

De Vries smiles. He looks over to Don, smiles at him too.

‘Not much faith . . .’ he muses. ‘I’m sorry to hear that. Is that based on personal experience?’

‘It was you specifically, and the SAPS generally, who failed to uncover the kidnappers of those three boys.’

‘You and Dr Dyk didn’t find them in some Arabian harem, did you?’

‘The actions of three kidnappings in three days is audacious: it is likely that it was planned by a very experienced, highly intelligent mind or group of minds.’

‘You told everyone that you were convinced that the boys were out of the country.’

‘That they were being held must be considered most unlikely. The fact is that you and your people failed.’

‘It was your brother who killed two of them.’

‘That’s enough.’ Hopkins bangs the table ineffectually with his fist. ‘This is not an interview to establish facts. This is a hounding of my client, who is being especially patient and indulgent. But I am not prepared to accept it. Either ask factual questions, or we will conclude proceedings.’

Vaughn sits back; continues to stare at Steinhauer.

‘Your client,’ Don says to Hopkins, ‘has not refused to answer these questions. If he were under caution, you could warn him to stay silent if you were concerned that he might incriminate himself, but this is a voluntary interview.’

Hopkins shakes his head at Don, jabs his thumb at him as he turns to de Vries. ‘Is he talking for you today, de Vries?’

‘Mr Hopkins . . .’

Hopkins turns to Don. ‘No. If you wish to address me, I expect the lead detective to communicate with me.’

De Vries smiles, but does not alter his gaze.

Steinhauer taps Hopkins’ wrist, nods at him.

‘It is fine, Ralph. Colonel de Vries has many years of resentment to work through. Perhaps this is a kind of therapy for him? He believes that I was not helpful to him in 2007, and now, because poor Marc got himself involved in something terrible, he thinks that I must be involved too. It is something of a conspiracy theory, but it really will be easier if we let it run its course.’ He turns back to de Vries, settles himself on the small chair, affects relaxation. ‘Please, ask your questions. I have a lunch appointment.’

‘Dr Steinhauer, for your information, you had no influence over the course of the inquiry. However, Dr Dyk was the consultant psychologist on the case, and he
did
influence our direction. What was your professional opinion of Dr Dyk when you worked near him in the 1990s?’

‘I had no opinion.’

‘We have been told by several witnesses that you had a strong influence over your brother, Marc. How did that manifest itself?’

‘I disagree. I have already stated: Marc was his own man.’

‘Marc’s own wife felt that you were a strong influence over him.’

Steinhauer snorts. ‘Then that says more about her than me.’

‘You didn’t feel protective towards him?’

‘From whom would he need protecting? No. Marc made his own way.’

‘Even when you were younger?’

‘I was his older brother; the oldest child of four. I hope that I had some influence on, perhaps even respect from, my younger siblings.’

‘But no undue influence?’

‘I do not understand the use of the word “undue”, but no.’

‘You’ve never married yourself?’

‘No.’

‘May I ask your sexual orientation?’

Hopkins takes a breath but Steinhauer says, ‘I have had several relationships with women. I have not found the woman with whom I would wish to share my life. My work has always proved demanding. I imagine I will come to regret such a situation.’

‘With hindsight,’ de Vries continues, ‘is there anyone who you think might have been able to influence your brother in such a powerful way?’

‘You talk of influence. All I know now is that the evidence seems to point to my brother being responsible for the death of two teenage boys who had been previously held captive. As I have always believed, if the motive was kidnapping and abuse, the course of events suggest a single perpetrator and, loath as I am to believe it, my brother appears to be that man.’

De Vries grins sourly at him, speaks very quietly.

‘You were wrong then, and you are wrong now. This was not the work of one man working alone. We already know the identity of others involved in these crimes and, even as we speak, we are working on further identifications. Now that we have found where they were kept, the site is yielding many indicators.’

‘I will be interested to learn about these others—’

‘Just for the record,’ de Vries interrupts, ‘I want to be clear on this. You state that you never visited the former government bunker located at the far north-eastern corner of your brother Marc’s land outside Riebeek-Kasteel?’

‘Never.’

‘So if we were to find forensic evidence linking you to that site, you would be surprised?’

‘No, Colonel, I would be astonished, and indeed afraid. Since I have never visited this place, it is impossible for any evidence of my being there ever to appear. If it were to do so, I would know that something was amiss.’

‘In what way, amiss?’

‘Since I was never there, there could be no forensic evidence to find. Therefore, if it were to be found . . . Even you can draw a conclusion from that.’ Steinhauer then turns to Hopkins and back to de Vries. ‘Am I permitted to make a statement myself?’

‘Go on.’

‘Whatever you think of me, Colonel, let me confirm what I believe you already know. I was not in Cape Town when these three boys were taken. I have never had any knowledge of their whereabouts, and I have certainly never visited the site. I was over ten thousand kilometres from South Africa when you say my brother shot two boys. No matter that I commented on the original case, and it turns out that my brother was, horrifically, involved, I myself have no involvement whatsoever, and you will never find any evidence to the contrary. So, I suggest that we “bury the hatchet” and consider working together.’

De Vries waits to see if Steinhauer has any more to say. Then he places the files in his briefcase and stands up.

‘That’s all, Doctor. I formally request that you inform us if you intend to leave Cape Town.’

Steinhauer stands up and offers his hand to de Vries, who keeps his hands at his sides. Steinhauer shakes his head.

‘I will be in my Cape Town office for a week or so. After which, I should imagine I will return to Johannesburg. Ralph will inform you.’

‘Mr Hopkins,’ de Vries says, ‘I require you to inform me
before
the event. If we wish to question your client further, we will do so here. Are you clear?’

‘On the law. Yes, thank you. I will fulfil my duty as set down therein.’

Don looks to de Vries and then opens the door to the interview room. He leads Steinhauer and Hopkins away, towards the elevators. De Vries leaves the room. As he passes the door to the observation suite, du Toit opens it, says: ‘Vaughn. My office, ten minutes.’

As the door slowly swings shut, de Vries hears du Toit murmur to Norman Classon, ‘Jesus Christ.’

Du Toit swivels his chair to his desk, faces de Vries.

‘I hope you are going to tell me what was gained by that.’

‘You were observing.’

‘I tell you what I observed: a man against whom there is not one jot of evidence to suggest that he had any personal involvement in these matters.’

‘I agree.’

‘You do?’

‘Steinhauer has gone out of his way to ensure that there is no physical evidence to link him to these crimes. Even the dates of his absence from Cape Town: he leaves the morning of the first abduction; he returns one day afterwards.’

‘But you’ve confirmed he was there?’

‘We’ve spoken to the doctor he says he was with, and he confirms that Steinhauer was there. He won’t provide any details.’

‘So, he was there. What he said was true?’

‘It’s too perfect, because he has it all worked out. Every question I asked him confirmed that.’

‘So, we move on?’

‘No, sir. We don’t move on.’ De Vries is impatient. ‘You have to be alert to the undercurrents; the movement beneath the surface. Every question I asked him about evidentiary links he answered fluently: that is because he had prepared those answers. Every question relating to connections he finds less . . . shall we say, stable . . . like what Dr Johannes Dyk may or may not have told us, his reaction is quite different. He does not reply; he parries. He answers questions with questions. He does this for a reason: he knows that it is not safe to answer.’

‘I think that is open to interpretation.’

‘When I ask him about his brother, he tells us that he knows Marc bought the land. Do you see the significance of that?’

‘No.’

‘If Marc Steinhauer is “his own man” as Nicholas claims, why would Marc mention this fact to him? Why would Nicholas Steinhauer go out of his way to emphasize it?’

Du Toit shrugs.

‘I’ll tell you why: because it is a significant area of questioning. It contradicts what we know about Marc Steinhauer – that this was an exceptional action by him, that he was more happy following instructions than issuing them. Nicholas Steinhauer knows this, and he is trying to control the scope of questioning. Suspects do that subconsciously, although in this case, I think he knows exactly what he is doing.’

‘It’s an interesting theory,Vaughn. It sounds like something from a handbook, but I don’t see what it proves.’

‘Did you observe his concern when I told him that I was noting inconsistencies between his statements and others received. It was palpable. This is because he can control events and his involvement in them, but he can’t control what other people may say. He’s afraid of that.’

‘I think we all appreciate your instincts, but this proves nothing.’

De Vries stands up, shouts in a hushed voice, ‘For fuck’s sake, Henrik, when will you understand? This man is too clever to leave physical evidence. He is not a physical man; he is a mind man. He knows we will find nothing – that’s why he is so confident. Probably he never set foot on that farm, but there are microphones in that cell area. For what? For who?
For him
. He is controlling this nightmare, but he is detached. It is unattributable. But there are uncontrollable elements – human elements. That is what frightens him, and those are what will, eventually, capture him.’

‘Sit down, Colonel.’

‘Don’t do that,’Vaughn tells him, pacing around the chair but not sitting in it. ‘You have my respect. But we have both been at this too long to piss about. I appreciate the pressure you have to bear from above. I understand that your position is at stake here, and the longer you back me, the more you risk. But I am telling you:
I know that Nicholas Steinhauer is behind this
. You may not be able to see it, but I can. I know. And I will catch him in the lie.’

Du Toit looks uncomprehending. Sighs. Says, ‘What do I tell the press?’

‘Nothing. Confirm that we interviewed Nicholas Steinhauer, and tell them nothing.’

‘That is not a commodity in which they deal.’

De Vries snorts. ‘That’s exactly what they deal in. They just take it and blow it up. Give them nothing and let them print whatever they want. Better they do. Let Steinhauer think he’s got the better of us.’

‘Did he not?’

De Vries looks away and shakes his head despairingly.

‘Just because lots of people can’t see something doesn’t mean it isn’t there.’

‘By lots you mean me?’

‘I mean anyone who sees one and one and won’t make two.’

‘Vaughn. Enough. It doesn’t matter one jot that you can see it. You have to prove it to the court – and that requires evidence or a confession. So, just concentrate on that.’

‘I will do that, sir.’

‘And you wish the press told what?’

‘I’ve told you, tell them anything. Tell them that he is assisting us with our enquiries or whatever you usually say when we are knee-deep in shit.’

‘That won’t play well.’

‘For God’s sake! Who cares what plays well? I want these men caught, and whatever it takes – within the law – I will do it. You’re a policeman, Henrik, remember that. Sometimes you can’t play it straight. You have to come at your suspect from an angle they are not expecting. And that requires confidence. The press can wait.’