A true story of murder and the miscarriage of justice.
“Likewise, every good tree bears good fruit, but a bad tree bears bad fruit. A good tree cannot bear bad fruit, and a bad tree cannot bear good fruit. Thus, by their fruit you will recognise them.”
Fruit of a Poisoned Tree by Antony Altbeker is about one of the most sensational legal cases in South African history, the Inge Lotz murder trial. The book explores the murder of a young Stellenbosch master’s student; the prosecution of her boyfriend and the exposure of police fabrication and investigation.
On March 16, 2005, Inge Lotz was found brutally murdered in her apartment around 22:30 by Christo Pretorius after receiving a call from Lotz’s friend. The discovery he made was gruesome and extremely violent: Lotz had multiple stab wounds in her neck, chest, and ribs. She had been beaten with a hammer on her head. Her forehead was crushed inwards, leaving behind the flesh hanging on her face. According to the investigators, there was no sign of forced entry, and all her valuable items, such as her laptop and cell phone, were left untouched. This means her attacker was known to her.
Her boyfriend, Fred van der Vyver, quickly became the prime suspect. Although he had an alibi, the evidence found on the scene proved otherwise. His fingerprints were found on the DVD she had been watching the afternoon of the attack, a bloody shoeprint matched Fred’s Hi-tech shoes, and lastly, the hammer used to crush her skull was found in his car.
The trial became an exposé in which the defence and the prosecution were trying to discredit each other. Fred was charged with her murder but was later acquitted because it had been discovered that there was dishonesty from the prosecution. So, the case went cold, and Inge did not get justice.
A friend of mine, Mmathapelo Agatha Motlhale, recently passed away. She, too, fell victim to GBV at the hands of her step-uncle. I remember how much she would complain about him constantly terrorising her and her mother. To the point of getting a protection order, which did not last long. He violated the protection order rules one day and tried to attack her mother. While protecting her mother, she slipped and fell. While on the floor, he trampled on her leg with enough force that broke her ankle. When she reported the incident, he was arrested but was not held in custody for long. Upon his return, he kept terrorising them until he got her mother arrested.
The description of the brutality of the murder really shocked my nervous system. I just kept wondering what type of rage and hatred a person would have to have in their heart to commit such an atrocity. To make matters worse, these crimes are usually committed by people we love and trust. Strangers are less likely to kill another stranger in the manner these crimes are committed. It is so unsettling how the danger is almost always in the same house or family as these victims.
Since her murder, femicide and gender-based violence (GBV) rates have increased drastically. Unfortunately, these murders are committed by intimate or family members of the victim. Still, the justice system continues to fail women.
Unfortunately, during the court cases and living in hotels in fear of her step-uncle, she got an infection on the broken ankle, which resulted in her death. The step-uncle may not have killed her directly, but he influenced her cause of death. Had justice prevailed and the step-uncle arrested, her leg would not have been broken in a scuffle, she would have never had an infection and died.
This book reveals a profound miscarriage of justice and serves as a chilling indictment of the professional bankruptcy and systemic rot within the South African criminal justice system. Just like Inge and Mmathapelo, many other women were failed by the justice system. Many of them would have been alive if the system were just and fair.
FEATURE IMAGE: Fruit of a Poisoned Tree by Antony Altbeker Photo: Naledi Maraisane
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