TurfWars-Criminal Underworld

Seeking Answers. Finding Trouble

Questions and assumptions filled his mind. The thoughts ran circles in his head, leaving him in the dust as he chased to find clarity in the mess. He kept coming up to new questions at every turn. The questions became much harder the more he dug deeper. His head hurt as he stared outside the window. Gone are the days of easy cases he thought, where the only complicated issue was DNA evidence, these days that was not a problem.

He did not understand why he was making Mazibuko drive him there. He should have waited for the morning.  The events of the day were clouding his judgement leading him to make abrupt decisions. “Where are we going detective?” Asked Mazibuko as they reached an intersection. He did not hear him. The engine continued as the car stayed idling . “Detective, I need to know where we are going.” This time he heard him. Looking up he noticed where they were. “Park across the road, under that tree.” Mazibuko drove to the spot James pointed and stopped the car. James got out the car and said “wait here.” The statement left Mazibuko with questions. The door shut leaving the young constable in the car alone “This guy thinks I am his driver.”

The Jika Joe’s were the slums of the slums. Shack cramped next to each other you could hear a needle fall next door. The poor of the poor lived in this disease infested, crime filled small space. With more murders committed over petty reason than any other place in Pietermaritzburg, it just made Imbali feel even more unsafe. James meandered through the shacks, making his way through the shanty town, hearing lovers quarrel, while others made sweet peace love. Darkness filled the small corridors where he walked through. The cold moonlight doing what it could to light up  his way.

He reached a corner and hid, a group of men sat around a fire talking about the earlier events, they shared a beer as they went on. He needed to get passed them  without raising any suspicion. A cop at this part of town was in more trouble then a civilian. He had something valuable with him, his gun. A gun in a place like this meant power, to dictate things and even be a boss, even if it is for a few days.

Toolkit’s shack was a few meters away. He needed to find a way passed the men without raising any suspicion. He took off his jacket, bracing the pain he pushed his hand through the sleeve. Maria will kill me for doing this he thought, the excruciating pain that followed made him gasp for air to muffle the pain he was feeling. He zipped up his jacket, dropped his head and pulled his collar up. Tuning into the path of the men he increased his pace and did not look at them. As he got closer one of them, they noticed his approah. He pulled his acting skills and greeted them. A simple nod, would do. The hour of the night did not prompt long talks with strange people. He just need to look like he belonged. Passing by the men and turning into the road that led Toolkit’s shack. He stopped to look at his shoulder, it was bleeding, he had opened his stitches, not good. He looked ahead and soldiered on.

Standing from a distance he could see the door to Toolkit’s shack. James looked around, he did not see or hear any body. He felt his gut constrict as it usually does when something was not right. He pulled out his gun, freshly loaded. Putting the safety off. In his right hand and behind his leg he slowly made way to the door. His ears on high alert as a slight sound made him stop. Agitated and hoping to not get into another ambush he walked and reached the door. He pushed an ear to the door to listen for any movements inside. A good 20 seconds passed. He deduced that it was empty. No lighting from the open cracks also suggested that no one was inside. He pushed the door to feel if it was closed. To his luck, it was not locked. He pushed it slowly, stepped in and checking his 6 and all that was behind him. He closed the door behind him.

Inside was dark. A different world in every light. The corrugated irons did not let in a single ray of moonlight. He searched for his torch. Upon finding it, he let a beam loose through the shack. Small and clusted the shack came to view. What he figured was the kitchen had a tall cupboard that was divided into two sections. Up and down. With two doors on either level. In the middle stood a paraffin stove that had a pot on one of the plate. This kitchen was not far from the bedroom which was a bed next to this cupboard. Together they made the living and dining room. They filled most of the shack. No toilet, he wasn’t expecting one.