Forty-eight hours in the life of Czech fugitive Radovan Krejcir is enough to make scriptwriters incontinent, maybe even awaken the ghost of Ian Fleming and certainly make journalists-turned-authors move in for the kill, so to speak, and nail down that book deal.
But the curious case against Krejcir, and the series of events over the past few days, has left more unanswered questions in this bizarre South African crime story that, much like the man, just won't go away.
Who is the Krejcir victim?
What we do know is what we don't know. We know that Krejcir was arrested for kidnapping and possibly assault with the intention of grievous bodily harm on Friday. What we don't know is who exactly the victim is. It's reported a man from the East Rand claims he was kidnapped and assaulted in June, so badly that he nearly died – allegedly. Police have medical reports to that effect.
We now know, thanks to Monday's ruling by Judge Ramarumo Monama in the high court in Johannesburg, that Krejcir is sick and/or injured enough to be allowed to go to hospital for medical treatment.
Why did police deny Krejcir's lawyers access to their client?
We know that Krejcir was nabbed, cuffed and spirited away to a secret location by the South African Police Service on Friday night. His lawyers were prevented from knowing his whereabouts at the time, until an urgent court application overruled the police. Why the police felt the need to do this if Krejcir is allegedly the aggressor in this case, we don't know. Fair play though; bodies have been piling up at the feet of the Czech businessperson for years now, and clearly the police doesn't have the stomach for another death in custody. Torture though, that's a whole different game of dirty tricks.
Krejcir emerged from police custody on Sunday allegedly a broken man, claiming police placed a plastic bag over his head and electrocuted him. It's not an unusual narrative from awaiting trial prisoners running the gauntlet of the country's criminal justice system, but the litigious Krejcir didn't miss this trick, laying charges of assault and attempted murder against the police.
Medical reports backed up Krejcir's claims that he was unfit to remain in police custody and needed to be moved to a private hospital. Monama agreed.
Why was the court hearing held in camera?
To add to the ever-thickening plot, an apparent bomb threat at the Palm Ridge Magistrate's Court on Monday delayed Krejcir's bail appearance for a while before proceedings got under way in camera. This was postponed to next week Monday for further investigation. National Prosecuting Authority spokesperson Phindi Louw told reporters outside the court that the matter was held in camera for security reasons in terms of section 153 of the Criminal Procedure Act.
Louw said this was for security reasons "but I cannot divulge further". She would not comment on whether a specific threat had been received.
Krejcir's lawyer later revealed that the state's security fears were based on claims that a machine gun was hidden in a TV camera. Easy on the popcorn, people.
The deadly camera trick is not an unlikely scenario, given the James Bond-style attempt on Krejcir's life on July 24.
Who is Krejcir's co-accused?
And then there is Krejcir's mystery co-accused whom we know little about, except that his name is Desai Lupondo. How exactly he fits into this scattered jigsaw puzzle will likely be revealed on Monday next week, when their bail hearing is scheduled to take place.
Why now?
As the Mail & Guardian reported on Friday, some of Krejcir's business services include providing a loan to a top detective on the East Rand.
Colonel Francois Steyn, head of Germiston's organised crime unit, received the loan from a Krejcir-linked company, Groep Twee Beleggings, in January 2010. It's perhaps the first indication as to why authorities have been so paralysed in their attempts to bring Krejcir to book – but why now? Reports that Krejcir planned on skipping the country and joining his family in South America have not been confirmed, but it has a familiar ring to it.
Krejcir has eluded every charge brought against him to date, including robbery, fraud and even attempts to have him extradited after he was found guilty of money-laundering in absentia in the Czech Republic.
Krejcir has a high court order to prevent the government from extraditing him, pending the outcome of his appeal for refugee status. He has applied for political asylum.
He has the resources to fend off the state's half-hearted attempts to nail him, so what's the deal with the kidnapping and assault charge? Are we meant to believe that this is the charge that will stick and unravel the alleged crime underworld buried in the belly of Bedfordview? On the surface, it appears limp-wristed and rushed at best – a kind of holding pattern until some actual police work takes place and more charges are laid.
Either security consultant Paul O'Sullivan is a fortune teller or he knows too much, but he called it. Even as the dust settled at the scene of a deadly bomb blast on November 12, which claimed the lives of two Krejcir associates, O'Sullivan was adamant that the Czech will meet the full might of the law soon-ish.
"Krejcir is in for a surprise before Christmas. A court application is in the pipeline and justice will be done," O'Sullivan told eNCA on November 14.
Fast forward a fortnight and Krejcir is a guest of the police with a plastic bag over his head and a fully charged Taser gun at his nether regions – allegedly of course. Merry Christmas.