Free Kruger's Alp by Christopher Hope

‘Brandy. Stop that flood or you’ll water the booze.’
    â€˜I’m leaving,’ said Blanchaille.
    â€˜Not a moment too soon,’ said Lynch. ‘You’ve heard about Ferreira? Well, now they want you.’ He took from his pocket a note typed on a sheet of cheap paper. He read out: ‘Tell B. to get going. They’re gunning for him.’
    â€˜Who sent that?’
    â€˜Van Vuuren.’
    â€˜Why should Van Vuuren care? He works for the Regime.’
    â€˜Don’t see him that way. He’s kept faith.’
    Lynch wore a black coat and an old black beret. Blanchaille recognised the beret. He’d worn it when he’d taken his altar boys on a tour of the Air Force base near the school. The reasons for this odd Gallic touch had soon become clear.
    On the windy airstrip, all those years before, he had made a speech: ‘Every lad should get a view of his country’s armaments. My beret is applicable since what we’re going to look at is the new French jet. The French have supported our Government for manyyears. The Air Force is very proud of their new plane. It’s a form of confidence building, they say. Between ourselves I suspect this display of weapons is similar to the impulse that makes some men expose themselves to little girls in public parks.’ They trailed round behind him inspecting the sleek fighter. ‘It is called a Mirage. Wonderfully appropriate,’ Lynch said. ‘It replaces the Sabre, which is obsolete. Not swords into ploughshares, you understand? But Sabres into Mirages . . .’
    Blanchaille tried to remember how long it was since he’d last seen Lynch. Ten years? The black hair beneath the beret was peppered with grey and the face thinner, the chin more pointed, but for the rest he was the same, the beautifully flared nostrils, the prominent jug ears, the hard bright green eyes. ‘I live alone now, since Brother Zacharias died of the cheap wine,’ he said. ‘The university encroaches, it swallows up more and more ground each day and you know that Blashford has sold my entire parish to the university? He says the money will be used to establish a new seminary somewhere in the country for black priests. He was advised by his banker to sell my church. Our old church. Has it ever occurred to you, Theodore, that the banks are at the forefront of innovation here? Remember how the banks introduced the new scheme for appointing black managers in their township branches? There was a lot of opposition to it from the white managers but head office decreed and head office was looking further ahead than the people here. Well you know how a little later the Church discovered its mission to the townships, the Church reaffirmed its historic role in Africa, acting, once again, on instructions from head office. In this case, Rome. It is interesting to see from where the power flows. It would be fascinating to talk more of this, but we can’t. Ferreira is dead and you are suspected of being a connection in the case.’
    â€˜Why me?’
    â€˜He telephoned you. That’s enough.’
    â€˜He was raving. He talked of the City of God.’
    Lynch laughed and poured himself more brandy. ‘Not God. It was a bad line, Blanchie. You had a lot of interference. What he said was not God but gold !’
    â€˜You’re well informed.’
    â€˜I’ve heard the tapes, a friend of mine obliged.’
    â€˜Who killed him?’
    Lynch shook his head. ‘There are two possibilities which the police are following up. There was something painted in the room where he was found, scrawled low down on the wall. Three letters:ASK followed by what might have been part of a B , or perhaps the number 3. The obvious organisations spring to mind. The Azanian Strike Kommando No. 3, the hit squad, I believe connected with the Azanian Liberation Front. The choice of the word Kommando being a deliberate gibe, a taking in