The cops arrived at about quarter to six in the morning. They took photos of the dead body lying in between the trucks face down. The empty shells of the bullets lying around, the hose hanging from the tank of the truck into the twenty litre drum on the ground with the rest of the diesel having spilled to the ground underneath the trucks. They went further to take photos of the exit on the fence with the slabs on the side and the two tyres lying on the rail tracks.

“Good morning sir. My name is Detective Sergeant Grey Barr from Elandsfontein police station. Is it you who have been working here?” the investigating officer asked Major.

“Yes sir I am.

“Can I get to see the weapon you used please?” Major handed it over. “Follow me please,” he said leading him.

They went around the truck, looking at the distance from the fence to the place of the incident and taking down some notes. He took out the magazine from the weapon Major gave to him.

“How many bullets did you have in here before the shooting sir?” he asked.

“Eight bullets, sir,” Major replied.

“So you discharged all of them on this poor fellow?”

“It is unfortunately so sir. I do not know what I was thinking. In fact I was overwhelmed with fear and it sounded as though the man was also shooting back at me.”

“Save your finer details for the court please,” said the detective. “How many people were there and were any of them armed?” enquired the detective.

Major was about to reply when Raymond Clark interrupted.

“I think this man shall need a lawyer before he could start replying to your questions detective. Can you please bear with us just for a moment and make a formal time for taking his statement, if you don’t mind,” he said boldly.

“Okay, it is fine with me if you say so,” said the detective and proceeded towards the dead man. Raymond and Major, with another police officer, were standing by when Grey Barr turned the dead man face-up. The officer took photos of the man, zooming in at the gunshot wounds which were all on his upper body.

Detective Barr knelt over him to record exactly where the wounds were.

“One on the lower part of the right eye next to the nose, five lined horizontally just below the collar bone, one on the solar plexus and one on the left hand side of the rib cage,” he spoke into his recorder and then turned to Major and Raymond. “This man is a real marksman. None of your bullets missed its victim.”

When Major raised his eyes to look at his manager, Raymond Clark, he was no longer next to him. He was with the director of the trucking company, Mr Alfonso Human, and his manager Mr Dual Brown. They all went around inspecting the premises.

“Is this the young man were talking about?” Mr Alfonso Human asked.

“Yes, he is the one, Major Dladla.” Replied Dual Brown, giving Major a pat on the back. Major felt a weight lift off his shoulders as it was apparent that his employer and the client appreciated what he did.

“That was good, very good indeed. Sure those bastards have learned some decency out of this,” said Alfonso.

“My only concern is how we explain so many shots fired to a single unarmed person. Do you think we stand a chance to give a magistrate a convincing explanation to acquit us?” enquired Raymond worriedly.

“It all depends on how you put your facts on the table. And by the way, you must get a very good attorney to do that for you,” said Mr Human.

“Mr Major Dladla, I am detective sergeant Grey Barr. You are under arrest for the murder of an unknown male. You have the right to be silent; anything you say shall and will be used against you in the court of law. You have the right to an attorney of your choice, and if you can’t afford one the state will provide you with one,” he said as he cuffed Major and took him to the police car.


Tell us: What do you think will happen to Major now?