Silke Kaiser - Gotcha: A polygraphist lifts the lid on crime in South Africa

GOTCHA

SILKE KAISER

Copyright 2017 Silke Kaiser

First Edition

ISBN-13: 978- 62077416

ISBN-10: 978620 77417

All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

First published in South Africa by Silke Kaiser

To contact the author please email:

Cover designed by Southern Stiles Design

This book is dedicated to all the victims of crime in South Africa, of whom there are far too many.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

CHAPTER 1 : How it Bega n

CHAPTER 2 : Stepping Through the Door

CHAPTER 3 : Polygrap h

CHAPTER 4 : Marketin g

CHAPTER 5 : Look at Their Hand s

CHAPTER 6 : A 17 Year Old Daughte r

CHAPTER 7 : The Corps e

CHAPTER 8 : I Am Given a Remarkable Ke y

CHAPTER 9 : The Brushcutter and the Pigs Foo t

CHAPTER 10 : A Monkeys Skul l

CHAPTER 11 : By God I Just Kne w

CHAPTER 12 : The Ceiling Safe That Was Not in the Ceilin g

CHAPTER 13 : Silent Beauty. Blood Pours. Flesh Burn s

CHAPTER 14 : The Lady Who Did Not Mis s

CHAPTER 15 : The Hole In The Sou l

CHAPTER 16 : Of Blue BMWs & the Lady Who Did Not Fain t

CHAPTER 17 : Let Me Show You the Door to Hel l

CHAPTER 18 : Rehabilitation Also Known as Reha b

CHAPTER 19 : Prisons in South Afric a

CHAPTER 20 : She Made A Phone Call

CHAPTER 21 : Home Invasion s

CHAPTER 22 : Cash in Transit Heist s

CHAPTER 23 : The Neighbours Camer a

CHAPTER 24 : I Go to Sun Cit y

CHAPTER 25 : Theft of Car s

CHAPTER 26 : The Key in the Veld

CHAPTER 27 : Rap e

CHAPTER 28 : Window Washer s

CHAPTER 29 : She Slipped on the Mat in Front of M e

CONCLUSION

GOTCHA

What makes a criminal, a criminal?

A belief that they wont get caught?

That they can beat the system?

This book is a true account of a woman polygraphist, where she speaks about some of the most heinous, gruesome crimes committed in South Africa. And her search for the truth.

A book that is a first of its kind revealing the true nature of the crime wave sweeping the nation.

CHAPTER 1

HOW IT BEGAN

I t was the morning of one of those glorious summer African days, when the swimming pools beckon, and an air conditioning unit or at the very least, a fan, was mandatory. The cheerful blue sky above me did not reflect my mood.

I had, quite frankly, at the age of thirty-nine, lost my way in life. I had worked at a roofing company for sixteen years, and left that safe and secure, yet utterly unfulfilling employment for a brighter future about three months previously. I remained unemployed, frozen by indecision as to what I should be doing with my life. I had been helping my friend, Nicky, in her stationery shop. She and I met at the entrance to her store at eight every morning. The shop opened at nine, and the shelves had to be packed with boxes of pens, brown and white self-stick A4 envelopes, and the most in demand item at this time of year, diaries. Customers would flock to the shop to buy diaries from November each year, which she had privately printed. Each page had a life motto typed at the bottom, words guaranteed to motivate change and to bring everlasting happiness.

I sat on a small plastic chair to pack the diaries on a low shelf, and randomly opened to a page. With the new day comes new strengths and new thoughts, I read. A knock at the door stopped me from reading a second quote. It was Gladys, the shops only employee. It was her third year in her job. I yelled to Nicky that I was going to let her in, and opened the door for her. I greeted her and complimented her on her attire.

Gladys wore traditional African clothing, with a matching head dress. I went to the shop, not only to help my friend, but to also alleviate my boredom and the anxiety I felt about my future, plus I really enjoyed seeing what Gladys wore each day. What I did not know on this day was that a chain of events was about to unfold that would change the path of my life forever.

After this day I would finally find my lifes passion. Looking back, I know that my angels were all around me to help make it happen. I would need those angels many times in the years to come as I faced real danger and hardened criminals, as I soared high in what was about to become my new profession.

Since it was only 8.30 am, I locked the door behind Gladys, and decided to make us all coffee. In my never ending quest to control my weight, I often stashed sweeteners in my handbag. After taking them out, I placed my handbag next to Nickys on the shelf behind the desk in the office. I spent about five minutes in the kitchen making the coffee and carried the steaming mugs out on a tray for all three of us. As I placed the tray on Nickys table, I called to Gladys and Nicky that the coffee was ready.

Gladys came into the office and said that it was too hot a day for coffee this was most unusual because Gladys always had a cup when she started her work day. Nicky came over and joined me and sat in her Directors Chair (the name I jokingly called her office chair) and I sat myself down in the visitors chair opposite her.

I commented to her how unusual it was that Gladys was not having any coffee and mentioned that I found it almost rude. Nicky shrugged her shoulders, and I didnt push the issue, as I was mindful of the fact that that this was the pre-Christmas rush for Nicky and she had a lot of orders to get out.

After our brief coffee break, I took the cups and tray back to the kitchen, poured Gladys coffee down the sink, and washed the cups. I left them to air dry, and went back to help Nicky. We packed the shelves in readiness for walk-in customers, and packed the stationery orders we had received as well.

Nickys husband, Adrian, arrived at about 11 am, and loaded the orders into the company truck, ignoring Nickys playful comments about him putting his back into it, before he drove off to do the deliveries.

Having nothing left to do, I left the shop at about 11.30 am, picking up my handbag as I left and stopped off at an Engen garage to buy a packet of Nik Naks and a lottery ticket. As I took my purse out, something was immediately amiss. My purse was open. This was strange as it was my habit to close the press stud of my purse. I always anticipated that satisfactory click when I did so. I also knew that I had put R150 in notes inside my purse on the previous night, and now, they were no longer there. Since lottery tickets can only be paid in cash, I went back to my car and scratched around for coins, luckily, I found enough.

I paid for my purchases and then sat in my car, trying to figure it all out. Looking back on it now, I clearly remember the way in which my brow furrowed as I backtracked my movements in my mind, trying to see when and how I could have spent that R150.

My boyfriend had given me the money on the night before because he had borrowed it from me. I was so convinced that my memory was correct, that I called him and asked him if I had put the money into my purse. He was adamant that I had done so. I explained to him that the money was now missing, and he and I mentally walked through my movements from when he had handed me the money. We both remembered clearly that we had been standing in the kitchen, as I was cooking his favourite dish, Chicken Vindaloo. He had taken out his wallet and had handed me the R150. Since I was busy stirring the food, I asked him to hand me my purse that was in my handbag which was on the couch.