Cannibal Man

by Dorothy Knight

  Carl came running down the hall and looked at the empty entrance stunned. “I don’t know,” he stammered, “I did not touch it.”

  “What the fuck do you mean you don’t know?” Sauer was now so angry he wanted to put his fist through Carl’s face again.

  Carl shivered and retreated when he saw the big man’s anger. “I don’t know. I wasn’t here.”

  “Then where the fuck were you? Hey? Eavesdropping in the fucking hallway instead of watching the fucking car!” Sauer stormed around the parking lot looking for his car. Nothing. This is South Africa. The fucking thing had been stolen. Oh Lord, why did I get up today?

  Chapter Twenty

  Hobbs walked into Doctor Mayer’s office. She was eating again. He greeted her friendly, like one would a distant aunt. Doctor Mayer’s mouth was full and she chewed fast. Yet, she managed to smile at him. She pushed a lunch box across the table at him. Hobbs eyed the sandwiches suspiciously. Her right hand waved in the air indicating to him that he should help himself.

  “No thanks,” Hobbs said, “I already had lunch.”

  Doctor Mayer managed an even broader smile before she swallowed. “I suppose it was a liquid lunch?”

  Hobbs did not answer, but could feel himself blushing. There was no way he could lie to this lady. Then he nodded.

  Doctor Mayer swallowed her food. “Then, my boy, it is time for you to have a solid lunch.”

  Hobbs took one of the sandwiches out of the lunchbox. He took a tiny bite and chewed slowly. The first thing he tasted was tomato. Then the flavors of the mustard, mayonnaise, cold meats and lettuce mixed in. His second bite was bigger. Three more bites and the sandwich was finished.

  “Have another,” Doctor Mayer insisted.

  “No, no, you’ll die of hunger.”

  “Oh come off it. That would never happen,” she laughed. “Besides, if I ever run out of sandwich ham I can always get some meat from one of my cold rooms,” she mocked.

  Hobbs took another sandwich and ate as if it was his last meal. He watched as Doctor Mayer got up and poured two cups of coffee. Hobbs ate another two sandwiches in between drinking his coffee. Doctor Mayer, herself, ate in between filling out documents.

  “Are you married?” she suddenly asked. The question threw Hobbs.

  Why does everybody want to know about my marital status? Does it look as if I need looking after? A wife to make me sandwiches?

  “No, not anymore,” he said softly not looking at her.

  “Children?”

  “No.”

  “In that case I think you must come eat lunch with me more often,” Doctor Mayer said.

  “We’ll see about it,” Hobbs smiled.

  “Why? Do you have a girlfriend to make you lunch?”

  Hobbs blushed.

  “I did not think so. I got the gypsum mold back from the lab,” she continued. “It seems our killer has a beautiful set of teeth.” She took a gypsum mold out of her top drawer and handed it to Hobbs. He looked at it, turning it around in his hand.

  “He also has the jaws of a hyena,” she added.

  “Is it possible for someone to eat off another person’s face?”

  “Strictly speaking, yes. But not for the average jaw. This guy could be a trained circus performer who hangs about by his jaw as he gets swung all over the place. The jaw is like every other muscle. The more you train it, the stronger it gets.”

  Hobbs looked down at the gypsum mold in his hand and then placed it on the table. For a moment there was silence between them. Each one busy with their own thoughts. The gypsum mold was not of a complete set of teeth. It had only six teeth at the top and five at the bottom.

  “Is this guy missing some teeth?” Hobbs asked.

  “Probably not. The cast is a mere indication of what his teeth might look like. And I could only make a cast of the bite marks I found. No molars, as you can see.”

  Hobbs picked the cast up at looked at it closely. The killer indeed had perfect teeth. “How many people would have gorgeous teeth like this?” he asked.

  “Only the rich can afford dental care like this. These things cost thousands.”

  Hobbs put the cast down on the table. An uneasy silence descended between him and the elderly doctor.

  “There’s somebody I want you to meet,” Doctor Mayer said matter-of-factly.

  “Meet?” Hobbs’s heart started racing.

  Doctor Mayer smiled at him and said, “I would never dream of interfering in the private life of the son I never had. The person I want you to meet is my niece. She is a forensic psychologist. She specializes in social dynamics…does profiling and so forth. That’s got something to do with crimes, the theories behind it and so forth. She is currently doing further research on it. I thought that perhaps the two of you should meet. I think the two of you would have a lot in common.” Doctor Mayer heaved her body to a more comfortable position in her chair. “Like you, I suspect, she was hurt by this business of love, and like you, she throws herself into her work so that she does not have to deal with emotions that she can’t control.”

  Hobbs wanted to run away. So all this lovey-dovey, eat some of my sandwiches was because she wanted so set me up with her niece. Probably looks like the aunt as well, short, fat and a fucking female geek! No way—runnnnnnn…

  Later, Hobbs could not remember what excuse he used to get out of the mortuary. He was back in the office now, his ears still ringing. Why is everybody always trying to set me up? He heard Sauer down the hall. By the verbal abuse and grumbling he knew his partner was in a bad mood.

  Sauer steamrollered into the office. “What are you so cheerful about lover boy?” Hobbs asked. “Did she not want to go down on you?” Hobbs mocked.

  “Fuck off.”

  “Why? Did the pretty Miss Watson not want to fall for your excessively funny personality? Oh no, don’t tell me, she managed to resist you?”

  Sauer flopped down on the couch opposite their desk. His face was red and puffy, sweat pouring down his neck into his stained shirt.

  “Why do you look so calm and collected?” Hobbs couldn’t pass the opportunity to tease his partner. “Did you manage to get if off by yourself? While you perved over her gorgeous body?”

  “Sorry to spoil your smutty fantasy. But it is nothing like that. Matter of fact, Captain…” he paused. “It’s just that I don’t like walking that much.”

  “Walking?”

  “Yes walking. Have you got a hearing problem? I walked here. Well, a few blocks from where the minibus taxi dropped me.”

  “Why walking?”

  “Because the fucking car was stolen.”

  “What! The fucking car was what?” Hobbs took a sharp breath. “Where? How?” Hobbs stammered as he got up.

  “I went to see Miss Watson and when I wanted to leave, the car was gone.”

  Eventually he found his voice. “Let me guess, you, as always, parked on the fucking pavement and never bother to lock the car!” he bellowed. “And you left the keys in the ignition! Right?” he yelled.

  “It still gives nobody the right to steal it. You know, ‘steal’? That’s when someone takes something that does not belong to them without permission,” Sauer replied.

  “How?” Hobbs asked as he sat down again.

  “Outside Amy’s office.”

  “Does the superintendent know?” Hobbs asked

  “No, we still have to tell him.”

  “We?”

  “We are partners aren’t we?”

  “And just exactly when are we going on telling him?”

  “When you plan to go there with me.”

  Hobbs shook his head as he swore under his breath. Then he saw the naughty boy grin on Sauer’s face.

  “You think it’s funny, don’t you?” Hobbs asked. Sauer smiled as he shook his head. “You know that he will make me responsible because of my higher rank. The old man is going to kill us.”

  “That is why we are doing it first thing in the morning. Let us have
one more night of peaceful sleep.”

  Sauer sank back into the couch deeper. Hobbs took out a cigarette. He lit it and slowly inhaled. Sauer felt his mobile vibrate in his pants. It was an unknown number.

  “Sauer,” he barked.

  “Hi Inspector, it’s Amy.”

  The interdict—he forgot to give her the fucking interdict with all the commotion.

  “I was wondering—with all this nonsense of this afternoon, could I perhaps take you for a cup of coffee sometime,” she asked, quickly adding, “to say thank you for rescuing me this afternoon. And to get the interdict from you.”

  Sauer’s heart thumped in his chest. He smiled quietly to himself. He closed his eyes and saw her in front of him. This day is not going to end bad after all.

  “Sure,” he said, not wanting to sound over eager. “Third time luck, perhaps this time I will really give you the interdict.”

  “I will let you know. Maybe over the weekend some time?” Amy enquired.

  “Sure,” he said. “Let me know. I may not be available—being a policeman and all.”

  This is not a date. It is a business meeting, he said to himself, a business meeting.

  “I will pick you up, if you want me too, seeing that your car was stolen.”

  “No, no, no, that would not be necessary. The car that was stolen belongs to the state. I have my own personal car. I’ll pick you up.”

  “Oh, good,” she said and gave him her address. “I will check my schedule and if your schedule allows, we will see each other over the weekend.”

  Sauer opened his eyes. Hobbs was looking straight at him. “Welcome back to reality, lover boy. Did you report the car as stolen?”

  “Not yet.”

  “So, when were you planning on doing it?”

  “When you are ready to hold my hand and walk me down stairs to the charge offices.”

  “Why on Earth should I do it? I am not the one who got the car stolen.”

  “I did not ‘get’ the car stolen. It just happened. Hundreds of cars are stolen and hi-jacked every day in South Africa. Why should an unmarked, white car be any different?” Sauer said. He closed his eyes again as he lay back in the couch again. “Besides you need a life.”

  “I what?” Hobbs asked.

  “You have nothing to do with your life but drink and policing. So you may just as well walk me down to the charge offices and hold my hand. Pass me the odd tissue so I can wipe the odd tear from my grief stricken face. That sort of thing. It is not as if you have a hot date on a Friday night.”

  Sauer got off the couch and walked out the door. He didn’t need to look. He knew Hobbs was behind him.

  * * * *

  The charge offices were packed. Crowds of people were laying complaints about stolen vehicles, stolen mobile phones and stolen handbags. It was Friday after all. A few injured souls were holding their bleeding wounds. No doubt they were assaulted in the line of robbery, hi-jacking, domestic violence…take a number and wait. This was just part of the seriously malfunctioning judicial system in South Africa.

  “Why do you think these people even bother to report the crimes?” Sauer asked as they saw the crowd.

  “I suppose it makes them feel psychological better. They may think they have passed the problem on to someone else. Maybe they think someone will actually do something about it.”

  “Do you think they know that these case files are just thrown on a heap and left to rot?”

  “No, probably not,” Hobbs answered. “Also, they do it for insurance.”

  An old, uniformed policeman behind the counter saw the two detectives and waved them to the counter. People looked at Sauer and Hobbs as they walked to the front of the counter. They were the only white people in the charge offices.

  “Detectives, hallo, hallo—to what do we owe the pleasure?” the friendly, old uniform asked them. Sauer looked at Hobbs. Hobbs stared at the ceiling. Sauer looked back at the uniform. “Our official vehicle has been stolen.”

  “No, man! No really?” uniform voiced. “These criminals today…I tell you…these days they have no respect.”

  The uniformed policeman handed him an empty case file and Sauer started writing his statement. He was careful not to mention that the keys were left in the ignition. Nor did he mention that the doors were not locked and that the windows were wide open. The statement took the better part of an hour to complete.

  “Want me to give you a lift home?” Hobbs asked as they walked out of the charge offices.

  “I thought you would never ask. It is not as if I have not done my share of walking today.”

  “Why didn’t you just phone me and ask me to come and pick you up?”

  “The walk did me good. I needed to calm down. Besides, when we tell Hansen that I walked back, he may scream less at me.”

  “Shall we go have a drink first? To celebrate the end of the week?”

  “I thought you would never ask.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Sauer slept late the next morning. He opened his curtains and looked out on his overgrown lawn. Maybe today is the day. He walked to the kitchen and flipped the kettle on. He stared at the kettle as it started boiling. His mind drifted to Amy. Shit! I forgot—we have a coffee date tonight! He scrambled back to his bedroom. Got to make this place tidy—in case.

  He pulled a pair of old shorts from his dresser drawer and sat on the bed. He put both feet through the trousers and pulled it up in one quick, jumping movement. Got to mow the lawn. A shirt? A shirt. No wait—I need a tan. Brown fat looks better than white fat.

  Three hours later he walked back into the kitchen. The kettle was cold by now. At least the garden looks better. He grabbed a cold beer from the fridge and walked to his bedroom. This is as good a breakfast as anything else. As he passed his dressing table, he caught a glimpse of himself. Is all of that me? When did my six pack turn into a beer barrel? Tomorrow I start jogging!

  After a cool shower he flopped down in front of the television. The television was permanently tuned to a sports channel. What should I wear—must not look to eager. He made himself a huge salad for lunch. How is man supposed to survive on this shit? Half way through the rugby match he got up and walked to the kitchen. He grabbed a pack of chips from the pantry and took another ice cold beer from the fridge. He sighed at himself. Old habits die hard.

  He drove over to her place slowly. She said that he should be there at seven. This is not a date! Leonard Cohen was mellowing him out. He was chewing peppermint gum to keep the breath as fresh as possible. After showering again, he put on a pair of smart jeans and a white golf shirt. The trick is to look smart, but not eager. He quietly pulled in front of her house, got out and closed the door quietly. He took a deep breath. This is not a date. This is a business transaction. This is not a date. It is just coffee.

  He rang the intercom button. Amy answered almost immediately, “Come in, I’ll open the gate for you.” The steel gate slid open and Sauer walked to the door. He spat his chewing gum into her flowers.

  The front door was open. “Amy?” he called.

  “Come in, make yourself comfortable. I’ll be with you in a second,” she shouted from down the hall.

  Sauer sat on the nearest couch. His eyes flicked across the room. This is not a date. He could think of nothing else.

  Amy walked in quietly. He stared at her, not able to find words. The black mini dress hugged her body tightly. Thin, spaghetti straps ran over her brown shoulders while pink and red roses daintily decorated her cleavage. The neckline did not plunge too low, but low enough to have Sauer staring. This is a date!

  “My, how pretty you look,” he complimented her. His heart was thumping in his throat and he had difficulty controlling his voice.

  “Thank you,” she said. “You don’t look too shabby yourself.”

  He drove to one of those fancy restaurants on the outskirts of town where they sat on the terrace overlooking a man-made lake. Colored lights played on the water as the
fountain sprayed mist into the evening air.

  They sat opposite each other. In the middle of the table was a flickering candle. He wanted to order coffee, but Amy interrupted and ordered wine. This is a date! His heart jumped. Don’t push it. You just beat up her boyfriend yesterday.

  Sauer didn’t know what exactly to say to this beautiful woman, so he said, “What’s a pretty girl like you doing behind a computer screen all day?”

  Amy laughed at the cliché and Sauer had no choice but to join in. The ice was broken.

  “What’s a handsome man like you doing chasing killers all day?” she responded.

  “It’s the only exercise I get,” he laughed, patting his stomach. “What do you do for exercise?” She thinks I’m handsome, she thinks I’m handsome, he sang to himself.

  His eyes followed the contours of her body down to where it disappeared behind the table. He looked up again only to see that she had been watching him the whole time.

  “I gym every morning and evening.”

  Twice a day? Sauer nodded his head in silence. When last was I in a gym?

  “But seriously,” she asked, “why did you become a policeman? In this new South Africa—aren’t guys like you not well received in our corrupt state?”

  He looked at her for a while before answering, “You want the long or short version?”

  “The short one, if it sounds interesting, I’ll ask for the long one,” she smiled as she took a sip of wine.

  “After the bush war was over, I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life. So my father suggested I become a policeman until such time I know what I wanted to do with my life.” Short and sweet.

  “And you decided to stay a policeman?”

  “No, not really. Something better has just not come up yet.” He paused for a moment. “Actually I enjoy all this cloak and dagger stuff.”

  She smiled at him sweetly. Her lips shone bright of the wine she was sipping. He was seriously falling in love.

  “Computers fascinated me since I could remember,” she interrupted his thoughts. “I come from a very middle-class home. We had to finished school and become something. I’ve always enjoyed computers so I studied information technology engineering at the local university. My mom is a single mother.” She paused.