Trash - Andy Mulligan [3]
This time it was five men, one of them looking very important, like a senior officer – older man, fatter man. More of a boxer, with a smashed-up nose, no hair, and a mean look.
The sun had gone down. There was a cooking fire, where my auntie was boiling up the rice, and tonight – on account of the money I’d found – we were having that precious one-eighty chicken. About thirty of us were gathered – not all to eat one chicken! That was just for the family. But it’s hot in the evenings, so people are out squatting, standing, roaming.
I think Gardo had a ball and we’d been fooling around under the hoop. Now we all stood still in the headlights of this big black four-wheel-drive, and the men got out.
The boxer cop had a quick chat with Thomas, who’s the main man in our little patch, and then he was talking to all of us.
‘A friend of ours has a problem,’ he said. Voice like a megaphone. ‘It’s a pretty big problem, and we’re hoping you can help. Fact is, he’s lost something important. We’re giving good money to anyone who finds it. Another fact is, if anyone here finds it, we’re going to give a thousand pesos to every family in Behala, you understand? That is how important it is to our friend. And we’re giving ten thou to you – to the one who actually puts it in my hand.’
‘What have you lost?’ said a man.
‘We’ve lost … a bag,’ said the policeman, and my skin went dry and cold, but I managed not to show it. He turned and took something from the man behind him, and held it up. It was a handbag made of black plastic, big as my hand. ‘It probably looks like this,’ he said. ‘Bit bigger, bit smaller – not exactly the same, but similar. We think this bag might have something important in it that’s going to help us solve a crime.’
‘When did you lose it?’ said someone.
‘Last night,’ said the policeman. ‘It was put in the trash by mistake. Out on McKinley Hill, somewhere round there. And the truck picked up all the McKinley trash this morning. That means it’s either here right now, or coming in tomorrow.’ He watched us, and we watched him.
‘Has anyone found a bag?’
I could feel Gardo’s eyes fixed on me.
I so nearly raised my hand. I so nearly spoke up then and there, because ten thousand is good money. And a thousand to every family? That’s what they were promising, and if they gave it, oh my! I’d be the most popular boy in the neighbourhood. But I didn’t, because I was also thinking fast, thinking that I could as well give it up in the morning as now. I better be clear: I’d never had any trouble with the police before then, so it wasn’t that I didn’t like them or didn’t want to be helpful. But everyone knows not to trust too far. What if they just took it and drove off laughing? What was I going to do to stop them? I needed time to think, so I stood there, dumb. Maybe there was a bit of calculation going on as well. If they had money to give away, then they could be raised up over ten, and we could get it all up front. If it was precious enough for them to come all this way out to see us, then perhaps ten thousand would turn into twenty?
My auntie said, ‘Raphael found something, sir.’
She nodded, and all the police were looking straight at me.
‘What did you find?’ said the boss.
‘I didn’t find a bag, sir,’ I said.
‘What did you find?’
‘I found a … shoe.’
Somebody laughed.
‘What kind of shoe? One shoe? When was this?’
‘One shoe, sir – just a lady’s shoe. I can get it – it’s in my house.’
‘What makes you think we’re going to be interested in that? You playing games?’
He was looking back at my auntie, and her eyes were back on the rice, then on me, then on the rice.
‘He said he found something,’ she said. ‘He never said what he found. Just trying to be helpful, sir.’
The cop in charge spoke loudly. ‘Listen. We’re going to be back here in the morning,’ he said. ‘We are going to pay anyone who wants work. One day, one week – however long it takes. We need to find that bag, and we’ll pay to find it.’
One of the other policemen walked over to