REPORTING NOTES:

How we are investigating the murders of Cloete and Thomas Murray

Kyle Cowan

At just after 8am on the morning of Sunday, 19 March 2023, the roar of passing cars on the N1 North highway at the New Road offramp was as normal – light weekend traffic for the busiest stretch of tarmac in the country.

The previous afternoon, cars had stood bumper-to-bumper for nearly three kilometres as police collected evidence – at least 13 bullet casings – and photographed the scene.

At 2pm on the previous day, a gunman had opened fire on a white Toyota Prado being driven by Cloete Murray. His son, Thomas, was in the front passenger seat.

Thomas was hit once and died at the scene. Six bullets slammed into Cloete’s body, chest and head. Police collected 13 spent brass bullet casings on the highway, all from a 9mm handgun.

A first responder later recalled that when he arrived at the scene, he had asked Murray Sr some questions: What’s your name? Where is your wallet?

Murray pointed to the centre console but could not speak. He had watched his son die, with the near certainty of his own death drawing ever closer.

He died the next morning in hospital, surrounded by his wife and family.

Within hours of the shooting I was at Netcare Sunninghill Hospital where Murray had been taken. His family, who I had only ever seen from afar or greeted with a nod and a smile during a brief visit to Murray’s offices in Brooklyn, were gathered in a hallway just outside the ICU, crying, speaking feverishly into cell phones, hugging each other.

It is difficult as a journalist to enter the lives of the bereaved at this moment. Empathy must be balanced with the need to verify information quickly to ensure accurate reporting.

Snatches of the conversation overheard in the hallway revealed Murray was on life support. "Judging from the behaviour of the family, it is not looking good," I wrote in the News24 Investigations chat group.

He died in the early hours of Sunday morning; around the same time our investigation began in earnest.

On the Saturday night, I penned a story about the murders – not knowing whether Cloete would survive the night – that was published on Sunday, revealing that high profile ANC figures linked to Bosasa were in his crosshairs, information I had sourced directly from him just two weeks prior when we had spoken for the last time, and provided some context over who he and his son were, and what they did for a living.

After a few hours sleep, I was on the road again, on my way back to the scene.

Blood soaked the road just after the New Road bridge where the Murrays’ Prado had come to a stop, showing the exact spot where Cloete had lain while paramedics worked to stabilise him.

Deep gouges in the concrete showed where the left front wheel of the car, torn apart, had dug into the barrier bringing the car to a halt.

This is a key part of the investigative process – it allowed me to accurately capture the circumstances of the shooting, giving readers a clear picture of the scene. After noting the position of CCTV cameras on both sides of the bridge, I made my way to the Midrand Police Station, expecting the station to have its own evidence storage yard.

I had seen the Prado being towed by a police truck the previous day, having battled through traffic, feverishly phoning as many people as possible to get an understanding of what had happened. I made it to the scene just in time to see the car being taken away, at 6pm.

Midrand police however, told me the vehicle was at the police impound in Aeroton, Johannesburg South. By 10am, I was standing in front of the car – and the first evidence of a lackadaisical approach by SAPS was on full display.

In the rear footwell on the passenger side, a blue folder was left. Keys and other personal items were also still in the car. I notified several people, and later the Murray family lawyer retrieved the items from the car.

But the die was cast. Now I knew for sure what the Murrays were doing on the day they were killed.

This name on the file – I2 Infinite Innovations – enabled us to reveal in detail the movements of the Murrays on that fateful Saturday – from Waterkloof in Pretoria to Melrose Arch in Johannesburg, from where they were followed and shot.

The Murrays were securing properties registered in the name of I2, a company belonging to brother and sister Rushil and Nishani Singh. The Murrays were very familiar with the siblings – the Singhs were also directors of BIG Business Innovations.

The two companies were at the centre of a R200-million fraud charge levelled against the pair by Investec Bank, and first Murray Sr was appointed as joint liquidator of BIG, and later Thomas Murray was appointed as liquidator of I2 – his very first appointment by the Master of the High Court.

They had so far seized luxury vehicles including a McLaren sports car, several Mercedes-Benz’s and were, on that Saturday, securing a nearly R30-million property portfolio owned by I2.

The Singhs have since gone to ground, and have never responded to requests for comment from News24.

Liquidations have been described as the only real-world impact state capture and corruption-accused persons fear in the absence of an able prosecution of their crimes. They stand to lose homes, luxury cars and other assets, if paid for with ill-gotten gains.

As a liquidator, Murray had made numerous enemies over the years. His job, by law, was to secure a return for creditors and workers from companies that had reached the end of the road. He was equally reviled, as he was respected as sharp-tongued and straightforward. If you needed the job done right, Cloete Murray was who you called.

As a result, he worked on some of the highest-profile and complex insolvency estates in the country's history – the Dave King tax case, the estate of Radovan Krejcir, the Czech gangster who threatened to bomb judges. Also, Lolly Jackson, the murdered strip club owner, and Julius Malema's tax matter.

As the adage goes, nothing in life is certain but death and taxes. And when the South African taxman needed to recover or preserve taxes, they called Murray.

Most recently, he had faced the prospect of tackling some of the highest-ranking politicians in the country, including the son of President Cyril Ramaphosa, Andile - and the coun all linked to the Bosasa liquidation.

But these people can now breathe easier, knowing that Murray has been taken out of the picture.

Our investigation continues, closely tracking police efforts. More than a year after the killings, a key person of interest – Ryan Barwell – has not been interviewed, despite CCTV footage at Melrose Arch showing him following the Murrays that day as they arrived and left the upmarket development.

This page is a central access point for all our stories, slowly unravelling a double murder that has sent shockwaves through the legal fraternity and the country.