Free Trackers by Deon Meyer Page A

will be on them. Give them credit. Walvis Bay is a clever
move. Low security, cheaper bribes, good transport links via the Trans Kalahari
corridor to Gauteng. And if some error slips in, there is little evidence of
their involvement.'
    Mentz considered that viewpoint and nodded. 'Could be. What
do we do?'
    'Osman's flight is via Windhoek, where he must change planes.
We have only one operative there. He is already on his way to Walvis by road,
and he ought to be there an hour before Osman.'
    'What time is Osman arriving there?'
    'One o'clock this afternoon.'
    'How good is our man in Namibia?'
    'His name is Reinhard Rohn. Thirty years' experience. An old
fox. His reports are always thorough. Prompt.'
    'Where do we find these people?' But then Mentz frowned. 'If
only we had someone inside, Tau, we could have had three of our best teams
waiting there for Osman.'
    Masilo merely nodded, having little stomach for this
argument. Then he changed the subject. 'We know who is supposed to buy Johnson
Chitepo's shipment of diamonds.'
    It took Mentz a moment to make the leap. 'Oh?'
    'The role allocations in this drama keep getting more
interesting. Inkunzi Shabangu called the Committee this weekend with the news.
    The latest supporting player is apparently one Mr Willem
"Tweetybird" de la Cruz, gang leader on the Cape Flats.'
    'You're not serious.'
     
    'Come on, Mac, we have work to do,' Mrs Killian said just
after ten, and rolled her chair up to Milla's desk. She waited for MacFarland
to ride his chair closer before she sat down and put the fat files down on the
desktop.
    'Milla, this is your first big one, and we must have
something ready by tomorrow morning,' she said. 'But don't worry, Mac will be
your safety net...'
    Mrs Killian handed the first file to Milla.
    'Criminal gangs in the Cape Flats. There is a lot of material
here, the challenge is to reduce it to three or four pages. One on the background,
but focus on the last decade, the rest is really irrelevant. And one on the
current state of affairs, again just broad strokes, a brief overview. Remember,
we want the top management to be informed, but we don't want to waste their
time. And then one page on a particular syndicate: the Restless Ravens. Not
more than a paragraph or two on their history, keep the focus on how they look
now, what they are involved in. Which brings me to you, Mac. You will be
looking at a Mr Willem de la Cruz, also known as "Tweetybird" or
"Willy" ...'
    'My, my ...'
    'Not now, Mac. De la Cruz is the leader of the Restless
Ravens, he's the one who most concerns us ...'
    'As he should. You know what they say, a tweetybird in the
hand is worth ...'
    'Mac!'
    'Come on, mother. Tweetybird. The Ravens. And Willy ...
Freudian, to say the least?'
     
    At twenty-five past twelve, Quinn put his head into Masilo's
office. 'Reinhard Rohn, our man in Namibia, just called. He is in the arrivals
hall of Walvis Bay airport and waiting for Osman.'
    'He knows he must be very discreet?'
    'He knows.'
    'How will he identify Osman?'
    'I sent three photos to his cellphone.'
    Masilo was content. 'Keep me up to speed.'
    'I will...' Quinn hesitated. 'Advocate, this thing with
Tweetybird de la Cruz ...'
    'Yes?'
    'If the Supreme Committee ... This whole thing can spark a
war on the Cape Flats. If Suleiman Dolly starts whispering to their fellow Muslims
at PAGAD. The People against Drugs and Gangsterism might get very excited ...'
    'I don't think Dolly will be that stupid. He wants the
diamonds, and if he foments trouble, the smugglers may look for another buyer.'
    Quinn shook his head. 'I hope you're right.'
     
    Fourteen kilometres east of Walvis Bay - and only two
kilometres from the border of the Namib Naukluft National Park - lay the Walvis
Bay airport, a tiny oasis in the flat and endless stretches of the Namib
Desert.
    The modern airport building, with its grey steel roof and
salmon- coloured walls, stood among palm trees and small patches of green lawn.
For Reinhard Rohn,