The Top Prisoner of C-Max by Wessel Ebersohn Page B

everything changed in this country, but not much changed. You’ve heard the expression: the more things change, the more they stay the same.’
    Beloved directed the discussion along a new path. ‘Oliver, how did you come to be in Camp Quatro?’ she asked gently.
    This time it was Hall’s turn to be surprised, but he looked into her eyes with the directness of a man who had nothing to hide. ‘I was sent there. I was an Umkhonto we Sizwe soldier and the movement deployed me there.’
    A male voice spoke from the door. ‘Yudel, I need to speak to you.’ Director Nkabinde was in the doorway.
    Yudel looked from the director to Beloved, and then to Hall. She read the uncertainty in his look and spoke before he could. ‘I’ll be fine. I really will.’
    The warder who had brought Hall in took a step forward. ‘I’ll be right here, Mr Gordon. You don’t need to worry.’
    None of this was working according to Yudel’s intentions. He had still not moved. ‘It’s all right, Yudel,’ Beloved was saying. ‘Really, it is.’
    Only Hall seemed to have no need to advise Yudel. The smallest, mocking smile revealed what he felt.
    ‘We won’t be long,’ the director said.
    Yudel rose uncertainly. ‘You don’t move from here,’ he told the warder.
    ‘I’m right here,’ he said. ‘I’m right here all the time.’
    Yudel paused in the doorway for a last look at Beloved’s serene, untroubled face and Hall’s arrogant one, before following Director Nkabinde to his office. ‘We found how they got in. They cut the perimeter fence behind Central. We think it happened while we were changing officers on the watch towers. They must have had inside information. And Dongwana’s here,’ he said, before they sat down. ‘He came to work.’
    Yudel’s surprise was obvious. ‘Already?’
    ‘What the fuck is going on here, Yudel?’
    ‘I don’t know.’
    ‘Have you seen the wife?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘The bastards fucked her up badly. Not much left of her face.’
    ‘The minister said she’ll pay for surgery.’
    ‘Good. Penny needs it. But why? That’s what I want to know. Has this got anything to do with us?’
    ‘I think so.’
    ‘What then?’
    ‘I think Dongwana knows.’
    Director Nkabinde bit down on his teeth before replying. ‘This Dongwana, you’ve had dealings with him. Is he an honest man?’
    Yudel held a hand parallel to the ground, the fingers spread, then waggled it slightly. ‘Yes, but he’s no fanatic.’
    ‘I’m fucking going to get the truth out of him.’
    The director had already started for the door when Yudel reached out a hand to stop him. ‘Can we follow him first and see where he goes? Maybe we’ll learn more that way.’

ELEVEN
    MEMBER DONGWANA was leaning against an industrial washing machine for support. He had struggled into his uniform as soon as Yudel and Freek had left. The shirt he was wearing had been worn before and was creased as if he had slept in it. His tie knot was too tight and lay at an irregular angle. He had remained in the hospital for only a few minutes and cried at the sight of Penny, still unconscious, her face heavily bandaged.
    The drug had not worn off completely and Dongwana was struggling to focus on the man in front of him. Enslin Kruger was seated on a working surface used for stacking laundry. A few inmates were busy at the far end of the room. ‘You want something from me now, Alfred?’
    ‘I just don’t want Penny to get hurt some more.’ Dongwana was sobbing. He was speaking English. It provided common ground. Kruger could not understand Zulu and Dongwana had only the most basic understanding of Afrikaans, Kruger’s home language.
    Kruger was appalled at the idea that anyone might want to hurt Penny. ‘We want the same thing. I look after my people. Don’ you know that, Alfred?’
    Yes, Dongwana nodded. He knew that.
    ‘When you help me in the past, I look after you. You remember that?’
    Dongwana nodded.
    ‘You make good money helping me.