Cornelius shook his head. ‘We are both fokkol. She suspected something was going on with Beatrice, didn’t she?’
Benton nodded.
‘I didn’t sleep with her, you know.’
Benton didn’t reply.
Cornelius looked around the dining room in exasperation, as if there were someone, somewhere, who could undo everything, who could absolve him of what he had done. ‘I can’t bear to think that she died hating me,’ he said.
‘She loved you,’ Benton said quietly. ‘She always loved you. That’s why she was so angry with you. In a twisted way, that’s why she went with me. I guess I knew that.’
Cornelius took a deep breath. ‘You were there at the time. When she died?’
Benton nodded.
‘What happened?’
Benton closed his eyes. He owed it to Cornelius to tell him. For nearly twenty years he had been carrying the guilt of his affair with Martha. Perhaps this was his chance to atone for what he had done. To hell with Moolman.
‘We were at Kupugani, in an isolated cottage a few hundred feet from the main camp. They wanted to keep us away from the other tourists; in those days a white woman and a black man together could cause all sorts of problems, even way out in the bush. It was the morning, we were just getting up. I was in the bathroom shaving. She was lying on her bed, writing in her diary. The bathroom door was open.’
He opened his eyes. A film of sweat had appeared on his forehead. He looked down at his hands. ‘There was a shot, and the window shattered. Martha screamed. I turned and looked. There was another shot.’ Benton swallowed. ‘She stopped screaming. She stopped screaming.’ He blinked at Cornelius. ‘She died instantly. I started to move toward her and then I dived for the ground as a third shot rang out. There was a lot of blood. The diary had fallen on to the rug at the foot of the bed. I grabbed it and slid along the floor back to the bathroom. I slammed the door shut, broke the window at the back of the cottage, climbed out and ran.’
‘Did you see who fired the shots?’ Calder asked.
‘No,’ said Benton. ‘I ran down the path and then ducked into a maintenance shed. I hid behind some metal roofing material. I heard someone run past, and then a few seconds later I heard him run back. He checked the shed, but didn’t look behind the metal. I waited for about ten minutes and then crept back to the main camp.
‘I never saw her again. I mean her body. The police came and arrested me. They beat me up, tried to get me to confess. Then some big shot showed up and let me go. He said he’d have me killed if I told anyone I had been there.’ He glanced at Cornelius. ‘He meant it.’
Cornelius grunted.
‘Martha’s mother came to see me as soon as I got back to New York,’ Benton continued. ‘I wanted to tell her everything, but, well, I was scared. Scared of the South African police, and scared of you.’
‘I can understand that,’ muttered Cornelius.
‘Surely when you were back in New York you were safe from the South Africans?’ Calder said.
Benton shook his head. ‘The policeman’s name was Colonel Moolman. I will always remember him. He was very convincing. He said that they would get me wherever I was in the world, and I believed him. Especially when Todd was nearly killed after he started asking questions. So when Alex wanted to know about Martha’s letter to her mother and the diary, I wasn’t about to say anything.’
‘Can you tell us about the Laagerbond?’ Calder asked. ‘About Operation Drommedaris?’
‘A bit, but I guess I don’t know much more than you, Cornelius. Martha told me how she had read some papers about the group in a briefcase left in a car by two members who came to see you at Hondehoek. She copied down some details. She thought the Laagerbond were going to fund your bid for the Herald. That fitted with what you had told us at Bloomfield Weiss: that you were considering a new source of funds.’
Cornelius nodded.
‘Martha was very angry. She said she had wanted to do something about it, but she was too scared. I’m not sure why. I assumed it was you she was afraid of.’ Benton glanced at Cornelius, who was listening impassively. ‘I think she wanted to talk to me some more that weekend, but she never got the chance.’
‘Did the Laagerbond fund Zyl News?’ Calder asked. He wanted to make sure.
‘No,’ said Benton. ‘Bloomfield Weiss arranged all the funding from the banks and the high-yield bond market. It was tough, but we did it. As far as I’m aware, the Laagerbond never did finance Zyl News. Although it did cross my mind that that might be why you called me down here.’
‘When I turned them down, they went to Evelyn Gill,’ Cornelius muttered.
‘No!’ Benton’s eyes widened. ‘So that’s where he gets his funding?’
‘We don’t know for sure,’ said Calder. ‘But it fits.’
‘I guess it does,’ said Benton.
‘What about the diary?’ said Calder.
‘It was very important to her. She said it was like her confidante, her friend.’ Benton smiled. ‘In fact, as I was shaving, she said it was the first time she had written in it in the presence of someone else. She said it felt good to be able to trust someone enough not to be secretive about it.’ The smile disappeared as Benton glanced at Cornelius. ‘Sorry.’
‘I knew nothing about any diary until Martha’s mother mentioned it,’ Cornelius said. ‘But I guess that was the point.’
‘Did you read it?’ Calder asked Benton.
‘No, no I never did. I know there was some important stuff in it about the Laagerbond and Operation, what was it, Dromedary?’
‘Drommedaris,’ said Calder.
‘Whatever. And I guess there was a lot about me and about you, Cornelius, and the rest of your family. Besides, I was never going to read it while she was alive.’
‘But after she died?’ Calder asked.
‘I couldn’t.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because I didn’t have it.’
‘I’m sorry. I thought you said you picked it up off the floor and took it with you?’
‘Yes, I did. It was an instinct, I guess. I knew it was important and something told me that the shooting had just made it more important. But I didn’t want to take it with me back to the main camp, and so I hid it. And then, after Moolman’s warnings, I decided to leave it.’
‘Why didn’t you just stuff it in your pocket?’
‘I wasn’t wearing pants. In fact, I wasn’t wearing anything. I think I gave the camp owner quite a fright.’
‘Ah.’ Calder could feel the tension around the table. Benton’s nakedness was a reminder of why he and Martha were at Kupugani in the first place.
‘Where did you hide it?’ growled Cornelius.
‘In the maintenance shed. On a beam under a brick.’
‘Could it still be there?’ Calder asked.
‘I have no idea.’ Benton thought it over. ‘It might be. The shed was full of junk. I had to stand on something to reach the beams, and you can see how tall I am. It’s not the kind of place that got an annual spring clean, and even if it did I doubt anyone would go up into the beams. My guess is, as long as the shed hasn’t been torn down or converted into something else, the diary could still be there.’
Calder and Cornelius exchanged glances.
‘In that case, Benton,’ Cornelius said. ‘You’re coming with us to Kupugani to show us where it is.’
Benton was opening his mouth in protest when a mobile phone rang. Calder knew he had his switched off. It was Cornelius’s.
‘Yes, Edwin... Yes... Yes, I’ve got Benton here with me now... how much?... Nine twenty?... We’ll get back to you.’
He put his phone down, a scowl on his face.
‘Bad news?’ Benton said.
‘Evelyn Gill has just come up with a new offer. Nine hundred and twenty million. Laxton are going to make the announcement at seven tomorrow morning.’