Chapter 23

Craig had a busy day at work. He was frustrated with all the new terminologies and knowledge he had to acquire in a short space of time. He had been in his office most of the day, going through the files on his desk. He had sent out several e-mails in an attempt to get further clarity on certain processes of the company policies and standards. He had helped himself to a number of coffees in the boardroom and probably visited the toilet a dozen times for satisfying piss sessions. His manager Rodger had been in his office for a few hours which was followed by a meeting with his subordinates, Ferris and Clint. Craig hardly realised it was time to go home. In fact, he had to be home some time ago already.

Craig decided to call it the day. He rubbed his eyes and got up locking his office door. The hall was empty and dark. He did not even notice his colleagues leave for the weekend. As Craig went down the elevator, he felt relieved that it was Friday. He had the whole weekend to relax a little and plan a maintenance strategy to implement at work. He knew that some issues posed a risk to the company's profit margin and provided unsafe work environments to employees.

When Craig drove out of the parking lot, it was almost deserted. On his way home, he knew he needed some time alone to clear his mind from all the activities that took place during the day. Time spent alone usually did wonders for the human mind. His family did not deserve to have all the work issues dumped onto them. After about twenty minutes of driving, Craig noticed a dirt road to the left cutting through a large piece of land. He thought it would be a perfect detour to gather his thoughts and cool off his busy brain. Not only will he have time for himself, but he would also get to know Saldanha better. Curiosity got the better of him. He turned left and followed the road. Fences were running down either side of the road. Craig realised that he was driving between two farms or maybe even one farm separated by a single road. He was surprised by the tranquil feel the place had. No traffic at all, something he was not used to living in large cities most of his life. He drove past a sign on his left that read Saldanha sewerage farm. In the distance, he noticed a shiny object beneath a grove of trees and shrubs. As Craig drove closer, he knew it was a car almost hidden from the late afternoon sun. The car was facing him. Craig noticed a man sitting behind the steering wheel. His face was pale which made Craig wonder if the man suffered some sort of medical condition or maybe he just did not like the sun. Craig slowed down a little on instinct. Just before Craig passed the car, he noticed the stranger's mind seemed far away staring out to nowhere. Craig waved in a friendly gesture, but the man did not move. Craig wondered if the man even took notice because his eyes did not even flinch. Something about the lone stranger in the middle of nowhere struck Craig as a little suspect. The man could be dead for all Craig knew, dead with eyes still open. Craig was certain he saw the man's finger move slightly where they were clutching the steering wheel of his car. Anyway, Craig had some trouble of his own. Boobs and pussy were only part of them, which made him realize that he did not see Pamela at work the entire day. Maybe she was on leave or had some personal business to take care of. Anyway, the stranger behind the steering wheel seemed to have far bigger problems than Craig could ever imagine.

Craig proceeded unalarmed. He noticed the open land. It gave him a sense of freedom. Already he felt better and decided that it might be a good idea to come here often to clear his mind before going home. He also noticed healthy-looking cattle scattered across the land minding their own business. There must have been at least a hundred of them. That was when he heard something that sent a chill up his spine. It was a sound that did not suit the natural environment. Even the cattle seemed distressed. Craig stopped to the faint dull sound he heard from far behind. At first, he thought he had a burst in one of his back tires, but even that would have been louder. He got out and circled the kombi just in case. There was no damage on any of his tires or even body works. He thought about the stranger he passed earlier. Craig was almost certain he saw a faint flash reflected in the rearview mirror.

Craig got back into the kombi and turned it around. He had an awful anxious feeling, the feeling that something was not right at all. What was that stranger doing sitting in the middle of nowhere on such a quiet road, anyway? Craig thought. How could he not have noticed the danger signs? Oh my God, no, please not this. As Craig approached the vehicle, he noticed something different. Maybe it was the way the shadows fell on the car, but it did not seem that way when he passed it earlier. Craig realized his worst nightmare had come true, something that could have been prevented if he had just stopped earlier when things did not seem right. When he approached the car, he saw something he knew would stay with him for the rest of his life.

Through the blood-smeared windows on the driver's side, Craig could still see the stranger. He was facing the ceiling with his seat tilted backwards. His mouth was agape and blood was flowing from his ears and mouth. The back of his head had a large hole where the bullet exited. Bone shatters were scattered on the inside of the roof. Resting on his lap, a.38 calibre revolver was loosely cradled in his right hand. The blood on the back window was mixed with parts of darker tissue which slid down slowly as gravity pulled.

Craig was frozen stiff. He could feel his heart thundering loud in his chest. He held his breath and closed his eyes for a moment to block what he had seen, but the image had been burned into his brain already. He pulled the phone from his pocket while staring out at the farm. He dialled the police and asked for immediate assistance. He also mentioned that an ambulance would not be necessary.

After the call to the police, Craig gathered all his strength and dialled Sarah. He hoped she would answer her phone because leaving a message of such a nature would not be a good idea.

'Hi honey,' Sarah's voice was a great relief.

'My love, I would not be home until later,' Craig sighed. 'A terrible thing just happened.'

'Are you all right?' Sarah asked. There was anxiety in her voice.

'I'm fine. A man just shot himself and I was the only one around. I'm waiting for the police to arrive.' He rubbed his forehead and eyes with his free hand.

'Oh, my God.'

'I'll be OK. I'll tell you everything once I get home,' Craig said and disconnected the call. He walked away from the car and felt alone and confused. Alone with the dead. He looked towards town, expecting a siren from the police, but there was only silence and the occasional breeze that bristled through the grass.

'Fuck,' Craig cursed, 'what the fuck is going on in this place. Why is this all happening to me? Jesus man. What's next?'

First, it was the stranger on the R27, then the weirdo at seven-eleven. And what was that thing he found in the attic and the image he had seen on the plugged-out TV? Now he had to be a witness to a suicide of a total fucking weirdo. He cursed when he thought about turning down the road earlier instead of going home. Something is wrong here. Craig thought. Was there something in the water, something in the air?

Craig finally heard the sound of a siren in the distance. He felt a little relief washing over him.

Soon a white police vehicle with two young men stopped next to the blood-sprayed car. They got out, briefly scanned the carnage and approached Craig.

'Good day,' the first young man said extending his hand. By the look on his face, he had already seen enough to upset anyone.

'Good day,' Craig said shaking the young inspector's hand, 'I am Craig.'

'Francois,' the young man introduced himself. 'This is my colleague Morgan.'

'Hi Morgan,' Craig said and shook his hand. He noticed a mere nod from the young man.

'The ambulance is on the way as well as the forensic team. What happened?' Francois asked turning towards the blood-smeared car, 'suicide?'

'Jip,' Craig said not in the mood for any of this. He knew there would be a lot of questioning about the nut case who blew his dumbass brains to kingdom come. Not exactly what Craig had planned for his Friday afternoon.

After about two hours of questioning from several police officials, a large report had been compiled. The body had been removed, and the car was towed away. There were about five vehicles on the scene earlier. The flashing lights on them reminded Craig of a Christmas tree. Fortunately, it was all over and Craig was left with the two young police inspectors Francois and Morgan.

'You alright Craig?' Francois asked.

'Yeah, I'm fine. I should head back home. My family is waiting for me. Besides, I'm fucking tired.'

'Sure, we're done here. There's nothing further you can do,' Francois said. 'Thank you for your co-operation.'

'Okay then,' Craig said and turned towards the kombi. He wondered how the police handled these matters emotionally. They were exposed to such atrocities daily and still they were able to go home and feed their families with a straight face. These ugly things were not supposed to be witnessed by any sober human being, but someone had to do the dirty work and Craig was thankful he was an engineer.

Craig stopped inches away from his kombi when he remembered something. The memory of the stranger they found on the R27. Craig walked back to the police van already doing a backward manoeuvre. Craig held his hand up into the beams of the vehicle's headlights. The police van halted. Craig witnessed a meteor storm of dust particles inside the dull rays of the headlights.

Craig walked over to the driver's side. He noticed Francois's head sticking out the open window, 'Everything all right?'

'Yes. No problem. I just want to find out something.' He noticed Morgan curiously leaning over to the driver's side.

'Shoot,' Francois said.

'Tell me, there was an incident on the R27 about 3 weeks ago. Do you know anything about that?'

'What incident?' Francois asked. There was a certain frown on his face.

'We found a man here. He was in desperate need of help,' Craig said.

'Who reported it?' Francois asked.

'I did.'

'You?' Francois asked, surprised. Craig could only imagine what was going through the young man's mind.

'I know it sounds weird, but yes. We moved down from Johannesburg to Saldanha. On our way down here we almost drove over him where he was lying in the road. If it wasn't for my wife, I probably wouldn't have seen him. Unfortunately, he could not say his name because by that time he was too weak and his tongue...well, there was blood in his mouth.' Craig knew it would not make any difference if he added the detail.

'I don't know about that case, but it depends on where it happened on the R27. It could also have been the Cape Town police department that handled the case. Did you receive a case number?' Francois asked.

Craig noticed the doubt on Francois's face. He remembered putting something in the cubbyhole that day. It could have been the case number or anything else. By that time he had been so tired physically and mentally that he could not remember everything that happened that day.

'Let me check quickly. I'll be right back.' He walked towards to kombi and switched on the roof light. He searched the cubbyhole. There were lots of papers, petrol slips and even some of Sarah's makeup in there. He found a narrow piece of paper with a number written on it which seemed like a case number.

Craig returned to the two inspectors.

'This is it,' Craig said handing the piece of paper over to Francois.

Francois regarded the number on the paper and nodded, 'it is definitely Saldanha's police department who handled this case, although I don't know anything about it.'

'Can you maybe check it out for me?' Craig asked. He felt Francois's suspicious eyes upon him. He could understand the young man's suspicion. A person who bore witness to two major cases in such a short space of time was hardly ever heard off.

'Why is this case so important to you?' Francois asked.

'I don't know exactly. I suppose I just need some closure on it. I also want to know if the gentleman is okay.' Craig scratched his head.

'I'll look into it,' Francois said. He regarded Craig for a moment.

'Can I give you my number?' Craig asked.

'Sure, you can just write it on the back here,' Francois said handing him the paper with the case number and a pen.

Craig quickly jotted down his cell phone number and handed the paper back to Francois, 'I really appreciate it.'

'I'll give you a call as soon as I find anything. I'll go check the dockets and let you know.'

'Thank you, Francois.'

Francois nodded and turned the police vehicle around with a reverse manoeuvre. He regarded Craig one last time before they took off.

Craig witnessed the red backlights of the police vehicle growing smaller. He wondered if anything would come out of the R27 case. Although he had no proof of the case anymore, he could at least remember the case number. I need a drink Craig thought, but he knew alcohol was the cause of so many other problems in the past including an affair which almost cost him his marriage.