TurfWars-Criminal Underworld

Death Seems To Tell A Story

The dead always speak, said his Grandmother once to him as a little boy. He did not understand why the words had came back to him but they did. He thought of this as he was walking down to the basement of the station. The dead always speak, he did not understand it then and still but, now it made a bit of sense.

He was in homicide, where the dead talk even beyond the grave. His grandmother was one of those gifted people who the community believed could speak to the dead. Countless flooded their home every weekend to talk to a dead relative or friend, searching answers to questions that could easily be answered if they applied themselves. He always wondered how his Grandmother made them come back week after week. The power she had must have been real. When she died all those visits died to, the community was cold and seemed lost. He remembered the cries at her funeral, all her visitors where there. He did not understand how an old lady who sometimes punished him badly would command such love and respect. A bit like Smiles did he thought. At the bottom of the stairs he turned to his right and dead ahead he saw the sign on the door. Medical examiner's (Coroner) office. He entered slowly without knocking.

Situated in the basement of the homicide department in the Imbali precinct, and representing the dead state of its current inhabitants is where the sunshine never visits and the cold seems to have pitched a tent. This the freezing office of the medical examiner and lead Forensic officer. The bodies that rest here hold stories of how their cords were cut. From victims of crimes to the crime perpetrators. This place holds all, it does not discriminate. Tonight seems to be even worse. The icy cold feeling outside seemed to merge with the dead mood that filled the Coroner’s office down at the station.

James walked in trying hard not to make a sound as he could hear a female’s voice from afar lively talking trying to change the mood. Usually the only living body in this office Slindile Zulu, a full-figured feisty firecracker that always stands on point was hard at work. With a doek on her head and hills on her feet, she is the boss and ruler of this realm. Her chocolate brown skin glows in the cold fluorescent lights as she tries to warm it up with a feisty personality. You would not tell she that she was pushing a 12-hour shift by the way she moved on those porcelain floors. “How is my favourite forensic officer?”, asked James. Turning to face the door, she immediately turned to search for something, finding it, she prepared to throw it “Whoa” came the exclamation from James “What did I do to deserve such animosity?” Zulu turned and switched off her tape recorder “You know I have a life, right?” asked Zulu as she took off her gloves and approached James “And bringing in dead bodies just makes my life stop for no reason”
“But it is not my fault they are died,” replied James. Zulu noticed the left shoulder strapped and punched it “And I take it this was from walking into a pole” James cried out in agony as the furious Zulu walked to her desk “I don’t know what I did to deserve such punishment Sli”
“That was for making me sleep here with your shootings”
“Why do people think these shootings are my fault”? asked James as he recovered from the pain in his shoulder.

“Are they never your fault? Asked Zulu as she handed him a file. “This is from the victim you requested I start with, did Kraft tell you that is not how things are done?”

“Great, was worried you would not get it done, He will understand, it was a necessary evil.” Zulu gave him a look that made him reevaluate his next words “He has bullet holes from Semi-automatics, like most of the bodies coming in” said Zulu as she went back to her earlier job. “Most? Or yes, there was a second sound of fire” said James as he read through the file “Yes, but those did not kill him, more like they entered his body post mortem. What did him was two bullets to the neck, looks like it was close range, he drowned in his own blood, his lungs were filled with his blood.” James thought for a while as he received the news. “These bullets.” Continued Zulu. “Were from a different gun”
“Different gun”? asked James “Yes, I’ve sent them to ballistic to confirm the gun, labelled the case urgent since you seem to be in a rush” said Zulu as she put on new gloves “You’re a star Sli, next time I’ll bring you those chocolate you love so much”
“I am still waiting for my flowers from your last case and the chocolate from the one before” James turned to talk out as his shoulder started to get sore.