'I don't want to speak to your dog'

Wednesday, 4 April 2012

Circa 1998 when I was Managing Editor of the Cape Times, I was sitting in my office one day when a couple of familiar faces darkened my doorway. It was our investigative journalist duo Roger Friedman and Benny Gool. The two had been investigating gang links with organised crime on the Cape Flats and in the course of doing so had turned in a consistent series of front page exposés. They had also managed to trample on a few toes.

"What's up, guys?" I asked.

They were jocular as usual but clearly worried. One of their sources had informed them that one Vito Palazzolo had put out a contract on them with one Cyril Beeka.

"A contract? You mean, to take you out?"

I had never encountered such a situation before. What on earth was I supposed to do – call the police and say we have an anonymous source that we cannot name who has told us that someone has asked someone else to kill someone? Any reasonable person would tell us to go away.

So I picked up the phone.

"Mr Palazzolo, my name is Kanthan Pillay and I am Managing Editor of the Cape Times. Information has been brought to my attention that you have ordered a hit on our investigative reporter team of Roger Friedman and Benny Gool through Cyril Beeka. I want to meet you and talk to you about this."

He was affable. "Mr Pillay, I have no idea what you are talking about. I don't even know anyone by this name Cyril Beeka."

"Nevertheless," I said, " I want to meet with you to discuss these allegations."

We agreed to meet at an Italian restaurant called Mario's on Main Road ,Green Point, mid morning. I arrived a half hour ahead of schedule, took my seat in the restaurant with my back to the wall, and ordered an espresso.

Palazzolo walked in about 15 minutes later accompanied by three heavies wearing jackets with telltale bulges indicating that they were all armed. One of them was Cyril Beeka.

"I thought you said you did not know Cyril Beeka," I said. Palazzolo smiled and shrugged expansively in that indescribable Italian way that can signify anything from "oops" to "shit happens".

"Mr Palazzolo, I'll come straight to the point," I said. "Benny Gool and Roger Friedman work for me. So if you have any issue with the way in which they are conducting their work, I suggest you take it up with me, not them. They are simply following instructions.

"I'm not going to question you as to whether this allegation is true, but I do want to tell you this much – that I have documented for our lawyers the fact that I am meeting you today as well as the substance of what I am putting to you. In the event of anything untoward happening to Roger Friedman or Benny Gool or myself, our lawyers have instructions to release a comprehensive list of names and dates and transcripts of meetings with sources that will turn a spotlight upon you that you will not be able to avoid."

He chuckled disarmingly. "Mr Pillay! I have no idea where you get this from. I'm just a businessman…"

"I'm aware of your type of business based on what the Italian authorities say."

"No, no. That's all settled. Here, let me call my lawyer in Geneva and he can tell you the facts." He picked up his phone, dialled, and spoke a stream of Italian to the person on the other side, then passed the phone to me.

I looked him straight in the eye and told him, "Non voglio parlare con tuo cane".

What he had said to the person on the other end was "I have a reporter here. Give him the usual story." My response was: "I don't want to speak to your dog."

He paused. "You speak Italian," he observed.

I got up. "I've said what I came to say. I trust we understand each other." I put a ten rand note on the table next to the espresso cup. He protested, saying that was not necessary.

"With due respect Signor Palazzolo, I think it would be inappropriate for you to buy me coffee."

And I walked out steadily to my car where I sat for the next half hour shaking in the aftermath of the adrenalin rush, telling myself "f***, that was stupid! What were you thinking?"

Cyril Beeka died in a hail of bullets in what was clearly a hit almost exactly a year ago. Senior ANC members in the province attended his funeral and draped an ANC flag over the coffin.

This past weekend, Vito Palazzolo was arrested in the early hours of Saturday morning at Bangkok airport, after apparently trying to enter that country on a SA passport. Italian authorities are pushing for his extradition to that country where he faces a 9 year jail term. South Africa has asked for him to be extradited back to this country because being associated with the Mafia is not a crime in our country.

Even today, with the benefit of hindsight, I have no idea how I could have confronted the issue other than the way I did.

I'm simply glad that I will not be joining him for coffee in the near future.

• Wikipedia has a substantial page on Palazzolo which is recommended reading.