61
When the rain finally arrived, it fell like buckshot from the sky.
Unable to see more than a few yards in front of him, Noah stood in the middle of the river and waited. He had been perched up high on the riverbank when a lone figure had appeared in the distance – arriving almost in tandem with the storm, as if he had carried it on his back. It could only be Derek, he knew, and he was earlier than expected.
As the deluge worsened, punctuated by a spectacular light-and-dagger show, Noah looked back at Morgan who was standing a few yards behind him.
‘Here we go,’ Morgan announced.
Noah nodded and turned back into the teeth of the storm. The wait was murder. He wanted it all to be over with as quickly and as painlessly as possible. A silver tongue flicked between two clouds and then bayoneted something beyond the embankment.
‘Hell, when last did we have a lightning storm at nine in the morning?’ Morgan called out. ‘God must really be pissed at you.’
Through the swirling black and grey needles, the vague shadow of a man formed in the murk. And then, as if he had stepped out from behind a curtain, Derek was standing in front of them. The hair he’d once worn red as Joe Rawlins was now dark brown and pasted to his head.
For a moment neither of them said anything.
‘You came.’
‘As did you,’ Noah replied.
Derek stepped forward and, reluctantly, held out his hand.
Noah hesitated for a moment, and then accepted the handshake.
‘Morning, Derek,’ Morgan said.
‘Hello,’ Derek replied, a warmth entering his voice. ‘You look good.’
‘I doubt that. I slept on a steering wheel last night.’
They were quiet for a few awkward moments until Noah spoke. ‘Where’s the elephant?’
Derek’s shoulders seemed to slump at the question. ‘I ran into some trouble and, well … she got away from me. They both did.’
‘Both?’
‘There’s a calf now as well. Her child, I believe.’
‘I’m sorry you lost them.’
‘Thank you, but it’s all right. I’ve been following their tracks which, before the rain came, were headed straight through here. They probably made it over the border during the night. I think they’re safe now.’
For a moment, Noah couldn’t think of what to say. ‘It’s a pity you never got to see them cross over.’
‘They made it. That’s all that matters. Thank you for letting me come this far.’
‘She must’ve been something.’
‘You could say that.’
A curious look swept across Morgan’s face. ‘Derek, how long have you been following her?’
‘I’m not sure, really. I’ve lost track of time a little. It’s been a good few weeks. Including the days I spent as Joe Rawlins.’
‘How did you get involved with this?’
As Derek answered the question, Noah noticed the deep bruises under his eyes. Coupled with his sallow cheeks, it was clear he was not well. The trouble he had run into appeared to have been an illness of sorts. He looked particularly worn and even seemed to have lost some weight.
When Derek had finished explaining, Noah could no longer restrain himself. ‘Why’d you do it?’
‘What do you mean? Why’d I go after them?’
‘No. That I understand. Why’d you write the letter?’
Derek thought about his reply, but still did not have a clear answer. ‘I don’t really know.’
‘You realise that without it we would’ve had nothing to hold you on? You would be free,’ Morgan said.
‘What can I tell you?’ he shrugged. ‘But even if you never came after me, I don’t think that would make me free.’
Noah stepped forward so that he didn’t have to compete with the storm. ‘You gave me no choice. You knew I’d be here to take you in.’
Derek nodded. ‘It’s who you are.’
‘Look, I’ll do everything I can to make sure the courts go easy on you. It helps that you confessed, it really does. It also helps that the victims were hardly pillars of society. But you’re still going to face time in jail. There’s nothing I can do about that.’
‘I understand. I’ll face whatever’s coming.’
More thunder bellowed in the dark airships above them. ‘You know I still don’t understand this.’
‘I’m not sure I do either,’ Derek answered and then frowned, pushing his hands into his pockets.
‘What is it?’
‘I need to apologise for deceiving you, both of you. I regret misleading you.’
‘Come on,’ Morgan replied. ‘Forget it.’
‘Was she worth it?’ Noah asked.
Derek nodded without thought or hesitation.
‘And do you still think Xavier was going to come after us?’
‘I do.’
‘Then tell me this,’ he replied. ‘How do you thank a man for probably saving your life?’
Derek knew that if Noah was ever going to take a step back and allow him to pass, this was the moment. A part of him wanted to ask for his freedom, as fair recompense for what he had done for them, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. ‘You take him in.’
Noah stared out over Derek’s shoulder. ‘You should know that Morgan has resigned over this.’
‘No, Morgan, please. I have enough on my conscience.’
‘Good … because I’m not offering it to your conscience,’ Morgan said. ‘The last few days just made me see things more clearly. It gave me some perspective. Made me realise that this just isn’t for me anymore. That’s all.’
‘Listen,’ Noah stepped in. ‘I don’t want to do this either, but I can’t just ignore what you’ve done.’
‘I know that,’ Derek replied, holding out his wrists. ‘Let’s finish this.’
‘There’s no need for handcuffs.’
Derek slowly withdrew his arms. ‘Thank you.’
As Noah headed for the muddy embankment, Derek turned around and took one last look down the Limpopo, at the great river that had become such an important part of his life. Despite what he was facing, he had never felt more fulfilled, more liberated, than he did at that moment. He turned his face up to the sky, closed his eyes to the rain, and imagined Shawu and her child roaming free, as safe as they were ever likely to be.
In the end, it had all been worth it.
As the weight of the moment pressed down on him, he felt the loss of his great friend gather in his throat. ‘We did it,’ he whispered to the river. ‘We did it.’
62
As they drove to the station, Noah was afforded his first clear look at Derek.
It was a worrying sight. His gauntness was exaggerated by his damp clothes and wet hair which made his features appear contorted and out of proportion, as though his face had been fashioned as a mask and then stretched over the skull of a man notably smaller than him.
But there were positive changes as well. His general manner, in particular, had improved. Noah understood that as Joe, Derek had really been playing a character. Nonetheless, it was difficult now to align the actor with the man. Gone was all the latent aggression and heavy-handedness and in its place was someone quite different. He seemed calmer and more composed, at ease with himself and the world. The rage that had simmered behind his eyes had been replaced with a peculiar stillness. Even the prospect of a jail sentence appeared to have little effect on his demeanour. Noah wondered if equanimity was the one reward reaped from revenge. Or was it the moral conviction of believing that, ultimately – and despite the prevailing view of the law – he had done the right thing? The Old Testament’s view on justice? Perhaps it was all those things, or none of them. Maybe it was just the satisfaction of delivering his elephant to safer territory that had changed him.
As a trio, they had spoken briefly and uncomfortably for the first few minutes of their journey before Derek had succumbed to his exhaustion. It was clear he had not slept pr
operly in some while, possibly days.
‘So what happens now?’ Morgan asked, his eyes locked on the road.
‘What else? We follow procedure. We’ll hold him at the station for a couple of weeks until his court date comes up.’
Morgan tightened his grip on the steering wheel. ‘That’s not exactly going to be a barrel of laughs. What do you honestly think he’s facing?’
‘Hard to say. Ten years … maybe even longer.’
Morgan sighed, but did not respond.
‘I’ll speak to the judge and see what I can do, but he’ll definitely sit for a few years. We can’t undo what’s been done.’
They spoke for a while longer, their conversation drifting over meaningless and forgettable territory, until they both ran out of things to say. Morgan used the quiet to contemplate his future, to try to decide what he was going to do with the rest of his life. Being a policeman was all he had ever known. Stepping away from it was not going to be easy. Noah’s thoughts turned to the weeks that lay ahead and whether or not he was ever going to be able to come to terms with this chapter of his life. For a long while, it was all he could think of.
They were nearing the station when Derek stirred and then woke up. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, which now appeared even more raw and swollen than before. ‘Sorry, I’m just so tired.’
‘You don’t have to apologise,’ Noah replied. ‘I can’t imagine you’ve slept much lately. You can get some decent rest at the station. And a proper meal.’
‘Some dry clothes as well,’ Morgan added.
‘Sounds good,’ he replied, half-swallowing a yawn. ‘I appreciate your kindness.’
As the familiar seeds of another migraine rose up in the front of his head, Noah slowly massaged his eyes. The boundary between virtue and injustice had never been more indistinct to him. What for most of his life had been his guiding light – an irrefutably clear path – was now a shadowed and meandering alleyway fraught with uncertainty. At what point, he wondered, should a moral truth eclipse the decrees of a country? And who was qualified to make that distinction? The law, which for so long had stood resolute in his mind, was no longer as steadfast as before. He bowed his head and tried to clear his mind, knowing that if he probed any further or looked any closer at the bricks and mortar of the things he held so close to him, he might begin to see cracks. And if there were cracks and faults in the design, how much longer would it be until everything came crashing down?
It was better, he decided, just to look away.
63
Three days later
‘I thought it would be a month away at least, but your first court date’s been set for the week after next,’ Noah announced, dropping the telephone back into its cradle. He stood up from his desk and walked across to Derek’s cell at the back of the office. ‘You’ve got Judge Samuel Parker. That’s encouraging news. He’s a very reasonable man.’
‘That’s good. Thank you,’ Derek replied, but Noah could see in his eyes that the news meant little to him. It was clearly difficult for him to get excited about the prospect of facing only seven or eight years in jail as opposed to twelve or fifteen.
‘It could make a big difference to your sentence.’
Derek nodded and then smiled unconvincingly. ‘I appreciate all that you’ve done for me, Noah. All that you’re doing for me.’
‘If there was more that I could do, I would.’
‘You’ve done enough,’ he replied, lying back down on his bunk.
As Noah returned to his desk to fill out the necessary paperwork, he wondered what was going through Derek’s mind. Over the past two days he had withdrawn from their conversations and had taken to sleeping for large portions of the day. Even his appetite, which initially had been voracious, had now dwindled to almost nothing. Noah wondered if the magnitude of what he had done – and what he was about to face – had finally come home to him. How could it not? And as he suffered, so Noah continued to grapple with his own demons.
‘Anyone for coffee?’ Morgan asked, pushing up from his desk. ‘Noah?’
‘Please.’
‘Derek?’
‘Not for me.’
‘You haven’t had anything to drink all day.’
‘I’m fine, thank you,’ he replied, turning onto his side, away from them.
Morgan looked across at Noah. ‘C’mon, Derek, you can’t not drink anything.’
‘I’ll have something later.’
Noah sat quietly in his chair for a while before finally turning to his typewriter and the first of several court documents that needed to be drafted. As he hammered away at the keys, his mind soon began to wander. He was finding it impossible to keep his thoughts focused on what he was doing. After he had reloaded the typewriter for the fourth time, he abandoned the document and walked back over to the cell.
‘Derek, are you awake?’
‘Yes,’ he replied, rolling onto his back.
‘Can we talk for a minute?’
‘If you like.’
A pause. ‘I’m concerned.’
‘About what?’
‘Well, you’re hardly talking to us anymore. You’re off your food. You’re barely drinking anything–’
‘It’s nothing, really. I’m just trying to find a way to deal with everything that’s happening. Ten years or so is a long time to live in a box.’
‘Of course. I can’t begin to imagine what you’re going through.’
‘Then you understand.’
‘I do,’ he nodded. ‘But something else is worrying me.’
‘What?’
‘I’m not really sure, to be honest. It’s just that I’ve been thinking about you and your situation and how you’ve changed over the past few days and, well, something keeps occurring to me.’
‘What?’
Noah traced his finger along one of the bars. ‘I don’t think you’re planning on staying in prison for very long.’
‘I’m sorry?’
‘I think you know what I mean.’
‘A break out? You think I’m planning an escape? That makes no sense. Why would I have confessed in the first place?’
‘That’s not what I’m talking about.’
‘Then what?’ Derek asked, his eyes searching for and then finding the answer. ‘Oh … I get it.’
‘Am I wrong?’
Derek sat up and folded his arms around his knees. ‘I’d be lying if I said the thought hadn’t crossed my mind, but no, I’m not planning on taking my life.’
‘Would you tell me if you were?’
Derek thought about that. ‘Probably not.’
Noah moved forward until his head touched the bars. ‘I couldn’t live with your death, Derek. Not that as well. I need your word. Please.’
‘My word? Is it still worth anything to you?’
‘Yes it is.’
‘All right then. You have it.’
‘Good. I appreciate it,’ Noah replied, and then slowly folded his arms. ‘But there is something you’re not telling me, isn’t there?’
‘Like what?’
‘I don’t know. But I have a way with these sorts of things and it just feels like I’m missing something.’
‘You’re not missing anything.’
‘Aren’t I?’
‘Well,’ Derek shrugged, his voice as thin as a strand of hair. ‘I suppose we all have some secrets. I’m sure you have yours.’
‘That’s true enough, I suppose.’
As Noah turned away and shuffled back to his desk, a small light winked to life and slowly began to flash in the back of his mind.
He was missing something. There was something he didn’t understand. Something he couldn’t yet see.
But what the hell was it?
And did it mean anything?
64
Derek’s withdrawal into an emotional exile was less a slip down a gentle slope than it was a leap off the top of a building. For days Noah and Morgan had tried whatever they could to draw him
out, to coax him into talking again, but all to no avail. He now barely communicated beyond a few words. His silence weighed on the room and both men now found themselves trying to compensate for the heavy atmosphere.
‘Jesus was a carpenter, wasn’t he?’ Morgan asked, sitting on the edge of his desk.
‘Among other things,’ Noah replied. ‘Had a famous father as well.’
‘Well, if it was good enough for him …’
‘You’re really considering carpentry?’
‘Why not? You’ve seen the furniture I’ve made.’
‘Uh-huh.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘Nothing. It’s a grand idea. As long as you don’t actually expect to be paid for your creations.’
Morgan rolled up the newspaper he was holding and pointed it at his partner. ‘You seem to forget that I made that table you’re sitting at.’
Noah pushed down on the corner of the desk and watched as it rocked from side to side. ‘Your table’s drunk.’
‘The floor’s uneven.’
‘Your head’s uneven.’
Morgan unfurled the newspaper and began to thumb through it. ‘All right, fine. What about a banker?’
‘Sure. It’s perfect for you.’
Morgan rolled his eyes. ‘Barman?’
‘You hate alcohol.’
‘There is that, I suppose. Barber?’
‘Have you walked past a mirror lately? That’s a bit like choosing a dentist with no teeth.’
Morgan glared over the top of the newspaper. ‘Policeman?’
‘There we go. Finally, some common sense.’
‘Nice try, Detective.’
‘Keep searching, Officer. Try to find more things that you were born not to do.’
Morgan glanced down at his desk for something to throw at his partner, when he noticed a small pile of post he had forgotten about.
‘Oh yes, these came for you yesterday,’ he said, reaching for the envelopes.
‘Yesterday? As in the day before today?’ Noah commented, looking down at his watch. ‘I guess being a postman is off the table as well.’
The mail consisted of the usual bills, a notice from police headquarters, a letter from their church and a thank-you note from a young widow who they had recently liberated from a rather lecherous neighbour. Noah was about to slip the post into his drawer when he noticed a small pale blue envelope at the bottom of the pile. Unlike the other mail, which had his name and address typed or stamped neatly on the envelope, this one was handwritten. Ever the detective, he took a closer look at its postage stamp.
Journey from Darkness Page 22
