Crime Beat

On special assignment for Crime Beat last week, Jassy Mackenzie – she of the recent scare ‘em to death, My Brother’s Keeper – sallied forth into the mean streets of a town called Dullstroom on an investigation that turned out to be anything but dull. Repeatedly threatened and intimidated by the citizens of a town out for no good, she was lucky to escape with her life.

Crime in a Small Town

I’ve just returned from a week in Dullstroom. One of my priorities while I was there, apart from lounging by a blazing log fire and reading every crime novel I could get my hands on, was to do an in-depth investigation for Crime Beat.

What is life really like in a small town? Is it as quiet as it appears to be? Or do long-standing grudges and feuds smoulder uneasily beneath the surface before flaring up in episodes of violence?

The barman at the Dullstroom Inn where we had dinner on our first night was wearing a hairstyle that was definitely a crime against fashion. He flirted with me in a leering manner that I thought rather inappropriate, seeing I was accompanied by my charming partner Dion. Not everybody knows that Dion is a seventh-dan black belt in karate. In fact, Dion himself doesn’t even know it, although I could see he was coming close to finding out.

The wine by the glass came from a box – something that I believe should be punishable by execution in South Africa. Luckily their Pongracz was well priced, so we ordered that instead. However, when we left the inn later that evening, we found my poor Renault’s right wheel arch had been crushed flat by the truck of a departing local, clearly well over the limit after too many glasses of cheap plonk. Another two crimes – drunken driving and a hit-and-run.

The next few days were very quiet in terms of wrongdoing, and I started worrying that my Crime Beat article might end up lacking substance. Everyone was happy, everyone was smiling. The locals, the visitors, the busloads of tourists that we saw enjoying lunches and dinners at the various restaurants.

And then, on our last morning, the charming estate agent in the Pam Golding office told us about a farm for sale. A large piece of land between Dullstroom and Belfast, going for a knockdown price.

“Why so cheap?” I asked.

“The old man who owns it gave up hope after he lost his son five years ago, and now he’s decided to sell.”

“How did the son die?” I leaned forward, all my instincts on high alert.

The estate agent sighed. “It’s a very strange story,” he said. “Nobody quite knows what happened or why. He was shot in the leg one night. He shouldn’t have died, except the bullet pierced an artery and he was too far away from a hospital when it happened. Then the evidence went missing and the case was interfered with… Somebody must have been trying to cover their tracks. The old man has been through 12 private detectives so far, trying to find out the truth”

“And did this happen on the farm?”

“Oh, no.” The estate agent shook his head, smiling at us reassuringly. “It happened at a rental place, right here in town!”

“Thank you,” I said. “You don’t know how helpful you have been.”

And I meant it.

Jassy Mackenzie is the author of My Brother’s Keeper and Random Violence.