Max Annas - The Wall

“Hello!”

“And Warren is responsible for the security of the gated communities managed by Meyer Investment. Hi, Warren.”

“Stevie, hi.”

“That’s six of them, right, Warren? Gated Communities. Man, it’s warm today…”

“Exactly. Six. Yes, here in the office it’s unbearable.”

“Okay. So we all know what’s happened. A dangerous individual is on the loose in The Pines. A young man. Broke in and stole numerous items of value. Tried to rape a, uh, woman. Hurt one of our colleagues, who’s now on his way to the hospital with bruised balls, as I’ve been told. Dad is on site and has everything under control. But we still don’t have the guy.”

“I’ve sent around the photo taken from the cctv footage. Did you get it?”

“Hm!” Warren.

“Yes.” Pokwana.

“Recognize him?”

“Never seen him,” Pokwana said.

“Me, neither.” Stevie van Lange paused. “We have a ton of people in The Pines, and I think we’ll catch him soon. However, in my opinion… if he puts up a fight, it could get quite dicey. And we don’t know if he’s armed. So we thought—Dad’s idea—that we could maybe temporarily shut down the access roads.”

“Absolutely not,” Pokwana interjected. “The neighborhood’s too large. How would you manage that? Too many people live there.”

“I was thinking we could help each other out. People will soon be coming home from work.”

“We’ll send a third car over. We really can’t swing more than that. And if he really is all that dangerous, then my people will be needed inside the neighborhood, not at the gate. Besides, that’ll be hard enough as it is. We can’t stop people who live half a kilometer away from where we’re searching for the suspect from getting home.”

“Do we know where he is?” van Lange asked.

“Can’t you just suggest it to people?” Kramer.

“Suggest what?” Pokwana.

“That they wait outside until we have him.”

“Uh-huh. We could.” Pokwana. “We could try.”

“So we’ll post a few people at the entrance and… what?” That was van Lange. “It’s best to stay outside, otherwise… I think I’ll just drive over there myself. What time is it? Ten past two. I can get there in fifteen minutes. Warren, what about you?”

“I’ll join you.”

“And you, Inspector Pokwana?”

“Let me first talk to my people. I mean… a single fellow. That can’t be all that hard.”

“What did they do to her?” Nozipho shook her head.

“Yeah. And above all, why?”

“They beat and kicked her. Imagine that. And they spit on her, too.”

“Uh-huh. Main thing, they killed her.”

“Pigs.”

“Hmm… We could try to get out of here.”

“But if we open this door and they come back from the garage at that moment, we’re dead.”

“True. We’ll also get beaten and kicked, as well as spat on.”

“What should we do? I still need to pee.”

“I don’t know.”

“We could call for help. Out the window.”

“But the security guys just saw the whites walk into this house. If we call for help, they’ll shoot at us.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“Maybe.”

“What a shitty situation.”

“It’s totally a shitty situation.”

The door to the garage opened. Thembinkosi and Nozipho vanished back into the wardrobe.

Moses broke through the hedge with his shoulder. His t-shirt ripped down the side as he did that. He crawled on all fours into the shadow of the next house. No time to look around. Another street was located on the other side of the house. They would be patrolling everywhere by now. He couldn’t stay outside much longer. He couldn’t stay anywhere much longer. Around the house. How many houses have I already had to creep around , he wondered.

On his stomach to the next wall. Almost shoulder high. He slowly straightened up to look over it. First forward, then toward the back. Risk assessment. Crown of his head, forehead, eyes. Houses on the other side of the street, as usual. A security car rolled by. Nothing unusual.

Look around. Curtains shut.

An empty house. Presumably. Another security vehicle on the other side of the wall. Or the same one. Yet another Polo. He’d seen Polos—had to be more than one—and the bakkie that had tried to hit him. Another car drove by, then another. Moses scanned for signs of life in the houses across the way. Didn’t see any. The workday hadn’t ended yet. People were still at the office. And nobody was watching him from there.

Had he already been along here? The streets all looked the same. One-storied houses across the street, and if he turned right, he could see the ones with two stories. What would have happened if he had just surrendered to the two whites? Right at the beginning…

They would have called the police and beaten him.

No. They would have beaten him and then called the police. He had fought back. We didn’t have a choice , they’d have said.

In the station, the cops would have beaten him some more. One of them might have even raped him. Or a cellmate would have taken care of that. Or several of them. And the cops would have stood there and watched.

They would have left him lying there until morning and then set him free with a kick in the ass.

He’d been right to run.

Mrs. Viljoen went to her telephone. The older she grew, the longer it took her to cover the distance to the dresser in the hallway. She really needed to get people to start calling her on her cell phone. But that was expensive.

“Yes?”

“Did you hear?” Rose was extremely excited.

“What?”

“George was robbed.”

“What?”

“In broad daylight!”

“Really?”

“Everything’s gone!”

“Everything?”

“A black!”

“Hng!”

“A young black man! And everything’s gone. The jewelry. You know how attached he was to those things. All those mementos from Margaret. He’s in an awful state. Just think. You haven’t seen anything? Not even the security people? There’s so many of them. All you need to do is look out your window. They say they’re going to catch him. He was even in my garden. Just think. He might have broken in my place, too. They don’t respect any boundaries. My sister always says it was wrong to get rid of the death penalty. Just think. At least he wouldn’t do it again. And a woman’s been raped. I don’t know her. She’s new here. What do you think?”

Mrs. Viljoen didn’t say anything. You didn’t wish things like this on anyone, but, well, they happened anyway. Even in a safe neighborhood like The Pines.

“My dear, I can tell you’re at a loss for words over all this,” Rose continued. “And what’s been going on with you?”

Nozipho listened through the wardrobe door. The room door had been shut from the hallway. She was trying to hear what the two whites were saying. She recognized the voices. That wasn’t difficult. But she couldn’t make out all the words.

“…car…,” she understood. High Voice.

And again: “…car…,” this time Deep Voice.

The same word again and then once more, then several words from High Voice, “…we couldn’t have guessed… what’s actually going on here?… other plan…”

The other man said something, but for a long time, all she could hear was the voice and not the words it was saying. Then the voice grew clearer. Perhaps he had turned around. “I won’t haul her off in an open vehicle.”

Footsteps. The garage door slammed shut. Squeaking. A motor turning over, then the sound of the garage door again.