The Quarry by Damon Galgut Read Free Book Online Page B

it.
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Come with me.’
    He folded the cassock over his arm and followed the policeman across the plaza. They went in past the sandbags and the red motorbike and down a passage round a corner to a door. The door had
bars in it that cut the world into vertical strips and in the square room on the far side was a man, lying on the bed.
    Captain Mong kicked the door with his boot. ‘ Kom hier, doos ,’ he said.
    Valentine came to the door.
    ‘That him?’ Captain Mong said.
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘ Ag, give me a cigarette, Captain.’
    The Captain gave him a cigarette. He lit it for him through the bars.
    ‘Remember this man?’ he said.
    ‘What man?’ Valentine said.
    ‘This one.’
    The two men looked at each other through the intervening iron. The face of one was scarified with scars and the face of the other was smooth.
    ‘I did nothing,’ Valentine said.
    ‘Come on.’
    ‘A few clothes. It’s nothing.’
    ‘Come,’ Captain Mong said.
    The minister turned and walked after the policeman. Valentine called down the passage.
    ‘I saw the flower,’ he said.
    In Captain Mong’s office the goldfish was swimming in its bowl. There was a newspaper open on the desk with a crossword half finished in it. There was a large pile of clothes on the
floor.
    ‘Those them?’ Captain Mong said.
    ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Yes.’
    ‘You can have them back. Just sign this form for me.’
    ‘How did you find him?’
    The policeman pulled his ear. ‘I hear things,’ he said. ‘I know things.’
    The minister signed the form. He knelt down by the clothes and started arranging them neatly. There was a silence for a while, then he said:
    ‘What happens now?’
    ‘To who?’
    ‘To him.’
    The policeman shrugged. ‘He stays here. There’s a circuit court that comes every few months. He can wait till the next one.’
    ‘Yes,’ he said.
    There were too many clothes to be carried across in one trip. The policeman made no offer to help him. The man took an armload of clothes and went out and across the plaza to the house. When he
came back the Captain was sitting behind the desk, staring at the crossword. He glanced up idly.
    ‘Those yours?’ he said.
    He was pointing to the blood-stained clothes that the minister had been wearing.
    The man looked at them. ‘No,’ he said.
    ‘No,’ the Captain said. ‘They weren’t with your things. I just thought.’
    He went on with his crossword.
    The man made another trip. Out of the station, across the plaza to the house. When he came back the Captain had filled in two words in the puzzle. He said, ‘Do I know you?’
    He stopped. ‘What do you mean?’
    The Captain looked up. ‘Do I know you? From before you came here.’
    ‘No,’ the man said.
    ‘Oh.’ The Captain looked down. ‘It feels like I saw you before.’
    He took another armload of clothes. He went and came back again. He gathered up the last load and was about to go out. The Captain tapped his teeth with a pencil.
    ‘“The evil leader is after flesh,”’ he said, ‘“and there’s no escape.”’
    There was silence for a moment.
    ‘Fate,’ said the man.
    He went out.

 
17
    Captain Mong finished the crossword. He folded up the paper and threw it into the bin behind him. Then he sat for a time at his desk staring ahead at nothing, sucking on his
moustache.
    It was a hot, clear day. Sunlight slanted into the office in long transverse beams and motes of dust were visible going past. He got up. He went to the cupboard that stood against one wall and
opened it. He took out a box and took from it a pinch of colourless flakes which he sprinkled on the water in the bowl. The goldfish rose hungrily to eat.
    He put away the fish-food and from the same cupboard he removed a black plastic bag with something wadded inside it. He held it for a moment meditatively. Then he closed the cupboard and went
out of the office, closing that door behind him. He was a meticulous man.
    On the way he leaned into a room