Deon Meyer - Dead at Daybreak

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This is a taut, provocative mystery and a telling psychological portrait of a man and a nation haunted by the past.- This book provides another tightly woven, brilliantly written thriller with an African backdrop--appealing to readers of "The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency.- Deon Meyer has already been published to great success and acclaim in the UK, France, Italy, Germany and many other countries beyond his native South Africa. His previous book, "Heart of the Hunter (7/04), was his first US release and this new book will build on the exciting feedback generated by "Heart's publication.- The movie rights to "Heart of the Hunter have been sold to Jungle Media. Tiny, the central character in that book, has a recurring role in this book as well.
An antiques dealer is burned with a blow torch, before being executed with a single M16 bullet in the back of the head. The contents of the safe are missing and the only clues are a scrap of paper and the murder weapon. Ex-cop Zatopek “Zed” van Heerden has 14 days in which to fill the blanks.

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“We ate and showered and went to the bungalow, but no one could sleep. Red Verster said we would have to tell someone, suddenly, as if he’d decided. Speckle said no. Clinton said we must talk to someone, Rupert de Jager said what good would it do, they were dead, it wouldn’t bring them back, and Koos van Rensburg said no, we wouldn’t be able to live with it, and the guys began yelling at one another, Rupert and me at Clinton and Gerry and Red and Koos, until Speckle beat on a tin trunk and we all looked at him and he said we were tired, we were all tired and shocked, and it would only cause trouble if we fought about it now. We must wait. Until we came back from Orion. Then we would vote. And then we would do what the majority wanted.

“Bushy Schlebusch just lay there staring at the ceiling. And Speckle Venter was in control. And then we all lay down and I think we slept a little toward morning and then Bester arrived at eleven o’clock and said there was breakfast and were we okay, and he was all over us, trying to be one of the boys and we all ignored him because of the Parabats and because all intelligence officers were like that, shit-scared men who sat at the base and then tried to sound like old hands who had seen contact. But he was too much, kept saying, ‘Orion is big, guys, Orion is really big. You must be on your toes. One day you can tell your children you did a great thing.’

“And that evening he handed out live ammunition and hand grenades and we drove in a Bedford to the airfield and there the Dak stood and we got in, and before takeoff Brits said he wanted to brief us. He said it was top secret but we would see what was going on in any case, we weren’t idiots, and he knew he could trust us. We were going to a mine in Cuango to fetch stones, diamonds, and then we were crossing a border or two, flying over without permission, and we would exchange the diamonds for something Unita wanted very badly because they were struggling against the rest of Angola and the Cubans, but as far as we were concerned we had seen nothing. And then we would leave on our fourteen-day pass with a little extra in the pay packet, a little extra to make the fourteen days rich and enjoyable, and he tried to make his voice sound like some fancy radio announcer selling coffee creamer. He was a real joker, he so badly wanted to be one of the boys.

“Generally we slept on anything that flew, but not that night. We sat there with our hands on our rifles and our eyes on one another and I think we all wondered who would be the first to crack, the first to talk. Rupert de Jager and Speckle Venter and I, who thought we should keep quiet; Red and Clinton and Gerry and Koos, who wanted us to talk; and Bushy Schlebusch with nothing in his eyes. I didn’t know where he stood. Tension, hell, there was so much tension between us you could have cut it with a panga, but Brits had no clue, he was too busy with his maps and papers and his little flashlight, and every few minutes he would check whether we were staring at him.

“We landed at a godforsaken stretch somewhere in northern Angola. They’d lit fires to mark the runway. We climbed out and positioned ourselves on one knee, rifles facing outward as Brits had briefed us, while he spoke to two guys. And then first they brought petrol for the Dak in a tank on a small van and then a whole lorryload of Unitas arrived and Bester told us to relax, that it was part of the plan, as if he was our squad leader. They brought a wooden box that it took four men to carry and loaded it into the plane and Brits said we must get in and we took off, and I tried to keep my bearings, but in the air at night it’s impossible. I thought we were flying south or east, and we sat there again with our red eyes and memories of the Parabats in our heads, and Speckle got up and went to sit next to Bushy and spoke to him for a long time, right in his ear, and then he sat in his own seat again.

“After two hours in the air we descended again and Brits said now we had to be alert, that this was the sensitive part of Operation Orion, and we went in and landed, somewhere – it was an endless stretch of bushveld and grass and stones. This time there were flares next to the landing strip, and Brits was the first to get out and we followed again in V formation, and then two men came driving up in a Land Rover. They got out and Brits went over to them and chitchatted. Then he looked in the back of the Landy and came back and told Bushy we must take out the wooden box and bring it. Bushy pointed to Speckle and me and we climbed back in and brought it – it was heavy – and put it down. The two strangers came across and Brits opened it and there were uncut diamonds everywhere, wrapped in plastic bags. One guy whistled and said, ‘Will ya look at that,’ in a thick American accent.

“ ‘Shall we make the exchange?’ Brits asked, and the other Yank said, ‘You betcha,’ and Brits closed the box and told us to put it in the back of the Landy and load the stuff in the Landy onto the plane. Speckle and I took the box and carried it to the back of the Landy, the Americans and Brits with us. In the back of the Land Rover there were cartons, a whole load of them, with the names of tinned food on them, closed with masking tape, and I thought it was odd, diamonds for tinned food, until I picked one up and it wasn’t tinned food. I didn’t know what it was. We each carried one to the Dak, and when no one could see us in the aircraft, Speckle slit it open with his bayonet and made a long ‘Shhhh ’ sound. It was packed with dollars, dollars, and more dollars, and then he said to me, ‘Do you really think Red and the others are going to keep quiet, Porra?’ That was my nickname; Vergottini is Italian, but because my father had a fish-and-chip shop in Bellville…

“I said no. And he said if I wanted to get out of the thing, I had to keep my head because things were going to happen, and then we went out to fetch more cartons and I saw him giving Bushy a sign, covertly, with one hand, and when we reached the Landy he shot one American, and when he fell, he shot the other.”

“Mr. Vergottini – ”

“Peter. Or Miller. Just give me a chance. If I could get something to drink?”

“Of course. I’ll send for coffee.”

“Coffee would be good.”

“Sugar? Milk?”

“Two sugars and milk, please.”

“Just a moment.”

“Would you like to get up? Stretch your legs?”

“I’m fine, thank you.”

“Coffee is coming.”

“Thank you.”

“Wouldn’t you like to take a break?”

“I want to finish.”

“We understand.”

“I wonder.”

“I’ll remember Brits’s face in that moment until the day I die. The disbelief. The fright. The surprise. It was all there. I think they were the first dead bodies, the first people he had seen with bullet wounds. There was nausea as well, which we all get the first time. But the disbelief was the greatest. He looked at Speckle, at the Americans, at Speckle again, his mouth open, his eyes big and round, his hands trying to stop something, but Speckle had already turned to the others.

“ ‘Now I want to know who’s going to talk,’ he said. ‘Bushy and I know where we stand. And I think I know where Porra and Rupert stand.’ And Bushy turned and aimed his rifle at Gerry and Clinton and Red and Koos. ‘The others must think very clearly,’ Speckle said, and then he walked to the plane and climbed in and we heard another shot. It was the pilot – he shot the pilot.

“Some day someone must explain to me how the psychology of the thing worked. I know we were tired. We had barely slept in four days, we were finished. I doubt whether any of us could think any longer; we were simply a bundle of raw nerves. The Parabats haunted us – not only what had happened, but what lay ahead. For me it was pitch-dark, I knew it wasn’t something you simply erased from your life, from your head, but hell…

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