INTO THIN AIR

A white 1966 Chrysler Valiant VIP gleaming in the sun on a used car lot in Cape Town caught the attention of Christopher Swain, a young fellow keen to trade in his old, rusty rattle trap for a more reliable vehicle. A navy vinyl top, white walled tyres and a set of Lucas fog lights made it an attractive set of wheels. In short order a deal was clinched, financing arranged and the dealer given the go-ahead to prepare it for delivery in a day or two. In good nick, it could not be faulted by the City’s Gallows Hill Vehicle Testing Centre. The requisite roadworthy certificate issued, Christopher collected his replacement ride on Friday morning, 3 February 1967. It was a sheer joy to drive the mighty six cylinder, smooth changing automatic shift car to his home in Vredekloof and park it in his garage with pride.

The next morning he was awakened early by the incessant ringing of his telephone. It was the previous owner requesting permission to remove the fog lights, as he had neglected to retrieve them before handing the car over to the dealer. The caller, Nick Oberholzer, seemed anxious and a trifle frantic to get the set. Christopher explained to him that he had missed the boat on that score, and there was no way that he would part with what had been one of the “selling points” of the vehicle. His explanation was liberally spiced with the finest abrasive lexicon that emphasised the point adequately. For the moment, he believed, Nick would be off his back.

Several months later, Christopher read a seemingly unrelated report in the Cape Times newspaper about the mysterious disappearance of a church minister in the city. It was an intriguing story that caught his interest because of the bizarre circumstances in which the minister had simply dropped from sight. It was customary for Christopher to pay particular attention to the first three pages of the newspaper, then flip to the sports page at the back before checking the classified section, legal and death notices. As a young attorney he had to keep abreast of the news and legal notifications particularly, and this was his daily routine. That morning, whilst sipping his early black coffee, another notice caught his eye. Somehow newspapers give the impression that people die in alphabetical order, so he would scan through the list of names and feel a whole lot better if his own name didn’t show up in the list of deceased. The name that popped up, however, was that of Nick Oberholzer who appeared to have died tragically. “Tragically” could mean anything from a motor accident to murder or a heart attack. The name rang a bell though, from his early morning conversation a few months prior to this. Nevertheless, he went about his day with a tinge of guilt at having been so acerbic in that telephonic interaction.

It was some weeks later that two burly police officers in civilian clothes pitched up at his office one day. They were detectives from the Murder and Robbery Squad and explained to him that they were following up on a few leads in connection with the untimely death of the Nick who had previously owned the Valiant. They asked Christopher to accompany them to his vehicle which was parked in the bay reserved for attorneys in his law firm. They paid particular interest to the set of fog lights which they duly unscrewed and opened. There, tucked away in small crumpled paper envelopes behind the yellow glass, were the items they wished to find – a handful of uncut diamonds.

Since 1882 it has been illegal to possess uncut diamonds in South Africa. The Diamond Trade Act (No.48 of 1882) was passed by the Cape Parliament to set parameters for the diamond industry and hence preserve the value of these stones. Essentially, the De Beers Company had sole rights to uncut diamonds. This did not prevent illicit diamond buying, and syndicates operated clandestinely in a very lucrative nefarious activity along the lines of the “Cosa Nostra.” In the 1960s this Mafia-like IDB trade was conducted on a gigantic scale to surreptitiously fund the many civil wars on the African continent. Starting in 1960 in the Congo, the trade in “blood diamonds” spread like wild fire to facilitate the purchase of weapons of war and pay handsome sums to mercenaries engaged in these battles. 

Joining the dots in this world of subterfuge kept the South African Police Investigators busy. Involved in this criminal enterprise were acts of kidnapping, murder, fraud and theft on a grand scale.

The two detectives didn’t share the details of their inquiry with Christopher, except to confirm that Nick had wound up dead in his small flat in Tamboerskloof. At first it had appeared to be a robbery gone wrong, but leads were popping up that pointed to more sinister motives. Not shared with Christopher was a twist in the story that was unfolding, but broadened the scope of the investigation.

The seemingly innocuous story in the Cape Times some months ago about a missing church minister, had a perplexing link with the death notice for Nick. It transpired that Nick had met the minister on a few occasions and had sought counselling to deal with his descent into criminal deeds. He had been sinking ever deeper into a hole of illicit activity, although his initial intention had been to merely turn a quick buck. Becoming embroiled in crime is rarely something from which one can extricate oneself easily. The sad reality is that innocent parties often become collateral damage when the criminal enterprise begins to disintegrate. 

Nick’s murderer was never brought to book. The minister who had left home with a cheerful greeting to his wife before his disappearance, was never found. He had told his wife that he had an appointment to meet some chaps in Cape Town CBD. Although his vehicle was traced to a parking bay in the city, he never materialised. The wife answered a mysterious phone call a few days later in which she was advised to stop searching for her husband, as he had been made to vanish with no hope of discovery. Rumours popped up that he may have run off with another woman, but this would have been out of character for him. Salacious stories abound when mystery surrounds good folk who have no ill intent. Human nature veers towards the unsavoury. A tale with a sting in the tail seems to provide welcome spice to idle conversation.

The discovery of uncut diamonds in the Valiant added to the mystery and neither the source nor the destination were ever ascertained. Africa at that time was rife with political turmoil and intrigue. There were enough civil conflicts and mercenaries plying their trade on the continent, to give credence to theories regarding the events described having links to organised crime and internecine strife in the political quagmire.

Christopher went on to sell the Valiant in the mid 70s to an aspirant taxi driver in Soweto. This was the heyday of large American vehicles in the fledgling taxi trade. It was a lucrative business that later saw Valiants and other large vehicles making way for the advent of minibuses. This business, too, had a seedy and violent side. Taxi wars and strife between operators over routes they desired to control, erupted and illegal handguns and assault rifles became their stock in trade. Many a dead body was left in their wake.

The minister vanishing into thin air and the conjecture regarding the strange circumstances surrounding his disappearance, cropped up at many a dinner table discussion. The event was discussed and written about for a long time, but no light was ever shed on the actual turn of events. It remained purely conjecture.

©Paul M Haupt

Uncut diamonds