A large Range Rover pull in front of the hospital, stirring up great clouds of dust. A man in uniform jumped nimbly down from the driver seat and called out a sharp command. Immediately, a young woman appeared at the mission entrance. Her eyes never met his as she answered him in Afrikaans and gestured to the east wing of the building.
The man had all the bearings of one confident in his own authority. Tall and broad-shouldered, he wore his uniform as an emblem of dominance. His face was strong-boned, nearly leonine, with a closely cropped moustache and his hair combed severely from his face. His expression did not attempt to hide his disdain for his surroundings.
“The less you all say, the better,” Dr. Fitzsimmons advised the team as they watched him advance up the front steps. Her spine had stiffened more than before as if she were arming for battle. “He is not our friend.”
Clipped footsteps echoed in the hall, coming to a halt at the large glass-paned doors. “Dr. Fitzsimmons! I am so very sorry to have missed your guests when they were in Alice. They must think me so very rude.” The smooth words seemed incongruous with the harsh timbre of his voice, and a chill came over the room.
“Sergeant Du Plessis, how kind of you to come all the way to our Mission to greet our guests. We’re honored.” Dr. Fitzsimmons’ voice was cool.
The police officer cocked his head slightly. “I am glad to hear it, Doctor. I wouldn’t want to think they were avoiding me. They haven’t even met me yet!” A laugh forced itself out. “Let us make up for the…omission… and make a new start.”
He turned towards the group. “If I may introduce myself, gentleman and ladies, “I am Sergeant Willem Du Plessis. I serve as Commandant of the Alice Branch of the South African Police. As such, you can understand why I am most concerned that I was unable to greet you upon your arrival in my jurisdiction.” His eyes swept over the occupants of the room, measuring up each person. He let his eyes rest on Trixie for a moment longer than necessary before he turned to Patrick and extended his hand.
“I’m glad to see another man here to take charge,” he greeted.
Patrick’s eyes were flat as he grasped the hand before him. He had encountered enough misogynistic bullies in his day to know that it was better to manipulate them than antagonize them.
“Dr. Patrick Turner, London. It’s a pleasure to be here, Sergeant. I’m certain we’ll be very grateful for any assistance you can give us during our stay.”
“And exactly how long is your stay, Doctor? I like to keep informed of these things, you understand.”
Dr. Fitzsimmons interrupted. “Dr. Turner and his team will be here only long enough to help us set up a new clinic and then they must return to England, I’m afraid. You’ve caught us just as we were about to move the furniture about, Sergeant.”
The sergeant slowly turned his face back to her. “You’ve asked them to come all the way from England to move furniture?” A threat lingered in the air. “I am aware that your guests came with more than a few trunks of linen suits, Myra.”
She stiffened at the use of her first name. “Some bandages and cotton wool, that’s all, I’m afraid. Times are hard for missionaries, I’m afraid, Sergeant. We’re fortunate to simply have warm bodies to help.”
The policeman bristled. “I have not come all this way to be hoodwinked, Dr. Fitzsimmons. Surely you do not expect me to believe that the Mission Society has gone to such expense to send a few nurses to coddle your…patients. I fully expect you to share the bounty of your visitors with the people who truly have need in our community.”
Sister Julienne stepped forward. “Sergeant Du Plessis, please allow me to extend our most heartfelt thanks for your assistance in our mission. The Reverend Hereward is occupied at the Mission Church, and will be so very disappointed to have missed you this morning. I am Sister Julienne, and this is Sister Winifred. You can be assured that we will remember you in our prayers.”
Unable to ignore the nun, Sergeant Du Plessis gave her his full attention. “Of course, I am honored, Sister. And I would consider it most helpful if you were to turn your efforts to influencing the Mission staff to be as cooperative.”
During this exchange, Shelagh slipped behind Fred, his size shielding her from the police officer’s view. “Fred, don’t move,” she whispered. “Just follow my lead.”
The Sergeant continued, his voice now more controlled. “The Mission is quite fortunate to have such support from the English. Of course, I would not begrudge you any assistance, Dr. Fitzsimmons. We are fortunate to have all the medical personnel we require for our goals in Alice. As you can imagine, however, we can always use medical supplies.” His eyes fell on the clipboard clasped in Shelagh’s arms and held out his hand. “Surely there is something here you could share with us?”
Reluctantly, Shelagh passed the paperwork to him. Long moments went by as they all watched the man scan the sheets of inventory. He looked up and handed the clipboard back to Shelagh. “There, you see? Plenty of medical supplies here for us all. You certainly wouldn’t mind sharing some of your bounty, would you, Nurse–?” His eyes passed over Shelagh insolently.
“Nurse Turner, and of course, we’ll be happy to share, Sergeant. Fred, will you please help Sergeant Du Plessis with one or two of those boxes?”
Doctor Fitzsimmons stiffened with shock. Du Plessis smirked triumphantly, and his voice oozed into pleasantness. “That won’t be necessary, Nurse Turner. There are plenty of kaf–”
“I’ll call Jacob to help, Sergeant,” Myra Fitzsimmons’ voice broke in.
He turned quickly back to face her, their eyes locked in a challenge. After a moment, Du Plessis’s eyes blinked slowly and an unpleasant smile crossed his face. “Of course, Myra. Jacob will do just as well. Doctor Turner, I look forward to working with you again.” He gave a sharp salute and left the building. Without being called, Jacob Arens and two young women slipped into the room and carried the boxes out to the vehicle.
The truck roared as is left the yard. “Well,” Trixie breathed, “That was rather an unfriendly welcome committee.”
“I’m afraid it won’t be the last time you see him, especially if we’re giving away precious supplies. We’ll never get antibiotics from the government, and now Du Plessis knows the Mission is sending them, he’ll be on every shipment.” Doctor Fitzsimmons face was tight with anger.
“I offered no medications to the Sergeant, Dr. Fitzsimmons. We’ve sent him off with a few crates of bandages, that’s all.” Shelagh crossed the room and held out the clipboard. Accepting it, the mission doctor rifled through the pages, then gave it back in distaste. “I rather thought you were bringing more than a few plasters and cotton wool, Patrick.”
“I’m a bit confused,” Phyllis Crane wondered aloud. “Why was he content to leave the antibiotics behind?”
Fred sauntered up to the front of the group. “Perhaps because he didn’t know they were there?” He drew a sheaf of papers from his back pocket and put them back on the clipboard.
“Fred? How on earth–” Patrick asked.
He grinned at Shelagh. “Mrs. Turner’s quick thinkin’, Doc. While his nibs was yammerin’ on, yer wife slipped the papers in me back pocket.”
“Shelagh! What if you’d been caught? Du Plessis is a dangerous man. If he finds out you kept antibiotics from him, there’ll be hell to pay. You promised there’d be no danger, and our first day, you walk right into it.” His eyes glittered with concern.
“No one here will say anything, Doctor Turner,” Phyllis’s brisk voice blanketed the room in calm. “I rather think we all know what we’re up against now.”
Historical note:
*The South African Police served as more than the police force of South Africa in the years 1913-1994. “Beyond the conventional police functions of upholding order and solving crime, the SAP employed counter-insurgency and intimidation tactics against anti-apartheid activists and critics of the white minority government.” https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/South_African_Police
Please see the following websites for more information:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/South_African_Police
http://www.cnn.com/2013/12/06/world/africa/mandela-life-under-apartheid/
Sergeant Du Plessis is based on this tweet from location filming in South Africa:
My Little Yellowbird 