The last thing she saw before she died was the man standing over her. She couldn’t move and she was losing focus. Desperately pleading him to just leave her alone, the tears started running down her face. She knew this was it for her and there wasn’t much time left. He said something, she couldn’t hear. With one last glance at what he’d done, he left her. Alone, she died silently, the tears still fresh on her cheeks.
***
It was already uncomfortably hot. The sound of school kids and taxis empowered the busy residential street as they made their way towards the taxi rank nearby. The sun was set high, unusual for this early in the morning. In the shade next to a local spaza shop, the body had already started to smell, mixed with the stench of December days and urine. Flies were having a field day, hovering over the nakedness. She was hidden away, in the rubble and litter until the shop owner’s usual morning routine became abruptly interrupted with the sight of her bare foot, illuminated by the light.
Detective Zikhali made his way to the crime scene. He had received a call from the station. He was already sweating from the humidity and it was only 7:30 am, dark circles invaded his shirt under his arms which immediately left him irritable. He made his way up the street towards the commotion near the spaza shop, parking further down to avoid moving his car through the crowds. Residents had already started gathering, their curiosity distracting them from their mundane tasks for the day ahead, they spoke and gossiped in Xhosa, excitedly passing on rumors down the crowd. He fought his way through the gathering and slid under the police tape, nodding at the police men positioned to keep the crowd under control. His colleague, Mgwebi was standing, lost in his notepad, flipping pages back and forth, sweat hung from his forehead, every now and then he lifted his hand, irritatingly wiping it away.
‘What’s the story?’ he asked, above the noise of the crowd. Mgwebi looked up from his concentration. Unenthusiastically, he replied: ‘Unknown black female, discovered about half an hour ago by the local spaza owner. She’s clearly dead, naked. No sight of her personal possessions’ he flipped through some more pages, ‘her hands have been tied up tight with underwear, presumably her own. She has multiple stab wounds and there seems to be evidence of sexual assault. Forensics is busy back there. I think they found a name badge. The killer obviously has some shred of dignity’, he looked behind him and pointed the pen in his hand towards the shade. ‘Thanks’ Zikhali whispered and made his way to the side alley next to the shop. The shop owner sat dead still outside the main window. With his eyes down and his hands grabbing each other, he hardly noticed the commotion going on around him, especially the officer in charge of questioning him. Zikhali quickly glanced in his direction and headed towards the crime scene.
The small alleyway was cramped with the forensics team. All he could make out was the victim’s bare foot, which happened to be visible through one of the forensics’ legs, while he stood over the body. A surreal moment for him and he took a minute to take it in. His trance was interrupted by the slight vibration in his left pants pocket. He recognized the number. The Eastern Cape. It was probably his wife, wanting more money. Answering his phone, he moved away from the noise. If this was about money again, her phone call would be cut short. Taking in a deep breath, he answered.
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