Gallows Hill Read Free

that there are a number of bodies,’ said Engel.
    ‘The people are upset,’ said the photographer. ‘There’s talk already of a cover-up. No public hearings about this development. No consultation. Nothing. We looked already, Doc. Whole fucking thing’s under lockdown.’
    ‘What are you talking about?’
    ‘You want me to doyour homework for you, Doc, now that you’re so in with the cops?’ said Engel. ‘My source at the Council won’t tell me anything, says they were warned if they valued their jobs then nothing should leak.’
    ‘Who told them this?’ asked Clare.
    ‘That she wouldn’t say either,’ said Engel. ‘I know she knows, fuck it, but she’s not saying. She’s scared of losing her job. Gives carte blanche forbig business and government to naai everybody.’
    The metro cop at the gate barred their way.
    ‘Dr Hart,’ he said. ‘Captain Faizal’s waiting for you.’
    ‘You and Captain Faizal?’ The journalist’s eyes gleamed.
    The knot of men standing on the other side of the site was untangling, with Riedwaan walking towards her. The uniformed cop let Clare through, but wasn’t quick enough to blockEngel: wiry as a mongoose, and as inquisitive.
    ‘Engel.’ Riedwaan had him by the arm. ‘You stay on your side of the fence.’
    ‘You assaulting me, Captain?’ He called his colleague. ‘Hey, you better photograph this.’
    ‘If I was assaulting you, Engel,’ said Riedwaan, shoving him back onto the pavement, ‘you’d know about it. I’m helping you obey the law.’
    Riedwaan closed the gate. ‘Don’tlet anybody else past, Constable. There’s enough rubbish here as it is.’
    ‘You certainly have a way with the press,’ said Clare. ‘Do you know who owns this land?’
    ‘No idea yet,’ said Riedwaan. ‘Give me a break. I’ve only been here an hour.’
    Riedwaan led her across the site towards the trench. Nearby was a pile of salvaged metal and wood next to a standing wall that did at least offersome shade.
    ‘Tell me what’s going on,’ said Clare.
    ‘Looks like your slavery film just woke up,’ said Riedwaan. ‘Look at this.’
    Clare crouched down alongside the pit.
    Small white domes protruded where the earth had been turned. Skulls. Through her viewfinder, they would look like pansy shells, fragile skeletons of sea urchins.
    Clare reached for her camera and turned it on, thefamiliar whirr a comfort. Long bones protruded where the earth had been turned. Naked, exposed, they resembled fossilised driftwood more than femurs.
    ‘These have been buried a while,’ she said. ‘Slave remains, you think?’
    ‘Some of them, for sure,’ said Riedwaan. ‘Executed prisoners. The gallows were near here. And this sand would have been as easy to dig then, just like now.’
    ‘GallowsHill,’ said Clare. ‘Of course. And the Traffic Department’s built on it too.’
    ‘There’s quite a few people who’d claim these are people who died waiting for their car licences,’ said Riedwaan. ‘Luckily, Solly Friedman’s on his way with Raheema Patel to prove otherwise.’
    ‘The forensic anthropologist?’ asked Clare. ‘Wasn’t she with the Missing Persons Task Force?’
    ‘Yes,’ said Riedwaan.‘But pretty much all the political cases from before Mandela are done now. She’s been seconded to historical excavations.’
    Clare did a slow pan of the site. It was filled with building equipment.
    ‘This is a serious operation,’ she said. ‘D’you know the developers? I haven’t seen any signs anywhere.’
    ‘Me neither,’ said Riedwaan. ‘I spoke to the watchman. Says he was hired as security.Jo’burg company.’
    ‘D’you know who?’
    ‘I’ve got some good Jo’burg connections,’ said Riedwaan. ‘I’m forming a theory.’
    ‘You going to tell me?’ Clare switched off her camera.
    ‘As soon as I have something,’ said Riedwaan. ‘I must get Rita Mkhize onto it.’
    ‘Why do you want me here, Riedwaan?’
    ‘You don’t want it?’
    ‘Of course