The Store House

Chapter 22 - Warning Bells

Det. West sat behind her laptop set up in the briefing room, a tight frown etched into her face as her eyes darted across the information displayed on the screen in front of her. Behind her, Sheriff Sam paced the small, confined space fitfully, lost in thoughts of headless bodies and weapons smugglers. Despite the mad rush that had ensued from the shoot out to finding Anya Cook, interviewing her and Jonas Marais, and the depressing realization that they were at another dead end, he had a fitful, restless night and the exhaustion and tension was starting to seep through into his movements. He yawned, then rubbed his face in frustration, all the while pacing back and forth like a caged animal.

It had been well over forty-eight hours since the discovery of Anya in the cavern and they still had no viable leads to follow in terms of finding Jeremiah Omondi. The crime scene unit was still busy investigating the quarry offices, the van, the weapons cache, and the cavern, though no preliminary evidence had been found to lead them to an easy suspect. Yet again, it seemed that there was just no concrete evidence. Sheriff Sam could feel the tension coiling through his body like a spring wound too tightly. He was acutely aware that with every minute that ticked by the possibility of finding Jeremiah alive diminished exponentially, like a kerosene lantern about to run out of fuel. In all likelihood, Jeremiah Omondi was probably dead already.

"Sam, I think I have something," Det. West stated as she leaned back in her chair and stretched the kinks out of her neck and back. She sat forward again and stared at the screen for a minute longer before turning her full attention on the sheriff.

"So, I have been trying to figure out who exactly Jeremiah is or was. I figure, based on what Anya said about him once being a client of her father's and the likelihood that the weapons we discovered are from Russia, maybe this all ties into his past, and if we can figure out exactly who he was, then maybe we can work out how exactly he and Anya tie into the current situation.

"Firstly, I would just like to point out that Africa is a mess. Like a steaming, hotter-than-a-Carolina-Reaper type mess. Nearly all of the fifty-four countries that make up the African continent have had some form of violent and bloody revolution or protest in the past fifty years or so. Trying to find one monster in-between a continent of rebel factions and totalitarian regimes is a nightmare. You can't search for African dictator's without coming back with more hits than a pro baseball player batting against a minor league pitcher." Det. West shook her head in disbelief as she continued, "There's just so much bloodshed and violence on one continent. It's completely insane."

Sheriff Sam was blissfully unaware of Africa's violent history. He recalled watching a movie about some genocide that happened in Rwanda, where one tribe wiped out another opposing tribe almost overnight. He paused in thought as he tried to recall the name. Hotel Rwanda. That was it. And there was the one about blood diamonds mined during Sierra Leone's civil conflict, he mused. But other than that, he had always assumed Africa was more savannah and wild animals. Sheriff Sam had to admit that he paid far more attention to the nature documentaries than international news. His favorite thing to watch were the giraffes, with their long necks and thin legs. He loved how they looked like they were moving in slow motion when they ran, their necks stretching back and forth slowly as their spindly legs waded through the air.

"After searching for virtually everything I could think of related to violence, dictators, and civil unrest, and wading through a plethora of documented violence, I found an article that refers to a political leader nicknamed 'Ngwenya', which translates to the 'Crocodile'. He was a political leader known for disposing of those who opposed his government by brutally killing them, dismembering them, and feeding them to the crocodiles. Sound familiar?" Det. West stood and paced the small briefing room as she spoke. 

"The Crocodile's real name is Thukuthela Nxongo, and he was the right-hand man to the previous president of Zambia. The ex-president was sentenced by the Hague for his crimes and this man, this 'Crocodile' disappeared at about the same time. He fits the info I received on Jeremiah. And get this... In the article it mentions that Jeremiah, or this Crocodile guy, wasn't even born in Zambia. The article is a puff piece on how the violence in the country was orchestrated by an outsider that won favor with the ex-president and manipulated him into committing the acts that he was ultimately charged for. I think it's more propaganda designed to deflect the blame and try save face, but either way, it's provided a name and a direction that I think is worth investigating. And... This Thukuthela, or Jeremiah, or 'Crocodile', or whatever you want to call him, was born in a town called Schweizer-Reneke in South Africa."

Det. West turned to Sheriff Sam triumphantly. There was no doubt in her mind that she had found the missing link, albeit that a lot of information would still be required to tie the crimes to each other. The man that was currently missing who she was certain was somehow tied to the whole debacle that her and Sheriff Sam were currently unraveling was from a town with the very same name as the financier of the Van Gelyk Foundation that was somehow involved in the illegal weapons smuggling and abductions. But no matter how certain she was that they all tied together, the question of how exactly, and how to prove it still remained.

Sheriff Sam let out a low whistle and rubbed his face with his hands. He tried not to place too much weight on coincidence, but these coincidences were getting a little too close together and a fair amount more purposive than he liked. But it wasn't proof of anything. At this point it was all conjecture. Pure speculation, and nothing more. He needed something solid to go on.

"Have you got anything on Schweizer-Reneke? Any information there that can help us?" He enquired as he pondered this new information about Jeremiah Omondi, the man most likely known as the Crocodile.

"Yes, it's a small, rural town in the North West province of South Africa that dabbles in maize and sunflower, as well as cattle and sheep farming. Interestingly enough, it is rich in diamond deposits which has led to some pretty major private diamond mining. Maybe that's where the money is coming from."

Sheriff Sam frowned. That was interesting to know, and was definitely food for thought, but was not exactly what he had been asking. He peered at Det. West and cleared his throat before he elaborated on his request. "I suppose that's a possibility, and one we need to consider further, but I was referring to Schweizer-Reneke Industries. Do we have anything on them?"

Det. West sat back down behind her laptop and flipped through the open documents on her screen. "All their paperwork is in order, and they seem legit. Uh, our friendly Jonas Marais is listed as one of the board members. He wasn't forthcoming with that little bit of information when we spoke. I got the impression that he had nothing to do with them beyond his role in the Van Gelyk Foundation. Also, one of the founding members is a Francois Marais. Could be a common surname or they could be related. I'll have my team verify their connection -"

Det. West trailed off in thought as she frowned at her screen. She flipped back and forth between the open documents, her fingers tapping the mouse mechanically.

"Uh, Sam... This is interesting... Schweizer-Reneke Industries has their fingers in a lot of pies. Mostly commercial developments and joint ventures and such, but..." she paused dramatically before continuing. "About a year ago the Institute bought over the quarry. The same quarry that the 'stolen' van fled to after trying to kill us, with the same secret tunnel that led us to the cache of illegal weapons, and one badly beaten Anya Cook."

Sheriff Sam whistled again as his mind raced. He recalled that the owner had decided to sell about a year ago, but he had just assumed it was because he wanted to retire and relax. "West, is there any way you can check something for me. If I recall, the quarry was closed for a couple of months after it was sold. If I remember correctly, the staff were sent home with full pay during that time because the new owner wanted to conduct some environmental impact studies or something. Can you check if it coincides with the takeover and if it does... Do you think they could have constructed that tunnel while the quarry was closed? Do you think they could have bought over the quarry with the intention of using it as a distribution hub for their illegal weapons smuggling?"

Det. West sat back in her chair in stunned silence. She shook her head in disbelief. If Schweizer-Reneke had constructed the tunnel and had done so on the sly, and if they could provide enough justification for that logic, then, combined with the weapons found, it would go a fair way to demonstrating intent to distribute illegal weapons and possible involvement in the abduction and beating of Anya Cook and Jeremiah Omondi, which may allow them to get a search warrant for the premises of Schweizer-Reneke Industries. And that may just be the break they needed to catch a criminal.