Send to Kill

Preacher leaned back in his chair, a distant look in his eyes. “I had this vision last Wednesday,” he began, gathering his thoughts. “I prepared myself for what you asked me last week about helping you guys out. In the vision, I saw a woman sitting in a chair, looking down, clearly sad. She was in a garage, and nearby, hidden among some bushes, was a baby covered in blood. The baby looked… evil. I can’t explain it, but its eyes were wide and it had this unsettling smile.” He paused, the memory vivid in his mind. “Then everything just vanished, and another vision took its place. The woman was still in the garage, but now she was crying.”

Silence fell in the living room as Kabaal absorbed the weight of Preacher’s words.

“What happened to the baby?” Kabaal asked, his voice low.

“The baby crawled out of the bushes and moved away from the yard. What troubled me was that the woman seemed unaware of the baby’s presence,” Preacher replied, his brow furrowed.

“Was that it?” Kabaal pressed.

“Yep.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“I don’t know yet. But to me, a baby represents the future, and it feels like something significant is on the rise. This woman, though, she can’t see it.”

“Damn,” Kabaal muttered.

“Take me to the field where they found the girl in that wheelie bin. I asked God to show me the way. I just had this feeling you’d be looking for me,” Preacher said, determination in his voice.

“Sure, let’s go. If it’s okay with Olivia,” Kabaal replied, glancing toward Preacher’s wife.

“Of course, I don’t want to stand in the way of the man of God,” Olivia said, smiling as she kissed her husband’s cheek.

With that, the two men left, driving to the field where the girl’s body had been discovered. Thirty minutes later, they arrived in Ruben Alley, stepping out of the car and into the somber space where the tragedy had unfolded.

“So, what do you think?” Kabaal asked, looking around.

“Why don’t you tell me what the detectives know so far?” Preacher suggested.

“Okay, fair enough. Six guys were involved in this. All six of their fingerprints were found on her body,” Kabaal explained.

“So the murder case is solved?” Preacher asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Not really. Two of them were arrested, but the others are still underage.”

“What do you mean, then? The case isn’t solved?”

“Not at all. Even though their fingerprints are on her body, a scripture from the Bible was written on her palm. Do you know what that means? It suggests those six boys only transported the body from one place to another. The killer might not even be one of them, but this… Angel of Death guy.”

“I see,” Preacher replied, nodding slowly.

“This guy orchestrated this brutality in a way that no one would suspect him. They said the six boys partied with this girl all day. Late in the afternoon, they heard an argument—threats being made. Then, around three in the morning, they heard the wheelie bin being moved. Maybe they admired the killer’s work, or who knows why they’d kill in a similar style. This isn’t the first time something like this has happened, either. There have been other victims killed the same way, with the same markings. But no sign of him, just other people’s fingerprints. This guy is a real piece of work! He even drew an angel with a pen on her forehead. He’s got some nerve!”

“What’s the girl’s mother saying?” Preacher asked.

“Well, obviously she’s devastated, crying like any other mother would. We’re investigating her too; you never know,” Kabaal replied.

“Take me to her,” Preacher said firmly.

“Sure, let’s go,” Kabaal agreed.

They drove to the home of Maria, the murdered teenager’s mother. When they arrived, Maria welcomed them with open arms. She had two other daughters and a son, and while the girls prepared tea, Maria went to the kitchen to fetch biscuits.

Preacher leaned in close to Kabaal. “The lady I saw in the vision was this woman.”

“Shit! You really are a man of God, aren’t you?” Kabaal said, his eyes widening.

Maria returned with the biscuits and joined them at the table. As they waited for the tea, she began to share her memories of Liezl, the daughter who had been lost. Maria spoke of how her daughter had been before drugs took hold of her life, how she had tried to get Liezl into rehab when she discovered her addiction. Tears filled her eyes as she recounted the pain and drama her daughter had caused.

“I often wished something would happen to her, but when I got the devastating news about her death, it broke my heart. I never wanted my daughter dead; I just wanted her old self back,” Maria confessed, sobbing. Her two daughters rushed to comfort her, while her son Morkel sat nearby, concern etched on his face.

When Maria had calmed down a bit, Preacher seized the opportunity to speak. “Aunty, when Liezl was still alive, who did you confide in the most?”

She paused to think before answering. “Charlotte and Henrietta. They’re my sisters, my anchors. I lean on them when times are tough. Why do you ask?”

“Just curious,” Preacher said, smiling gently and pressing a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

After spending time with Maria and her family, Kabaal and Preacher left. As Kabaal drove down the road, he couldn’t help but ask, “What was that about? I know you asked her that question for a reason.”

“About the baby in my vision?” Preacher replied.

“Yeah.”

“The killer was around her for some time, and she never knew. It could be a relative or a friend.”

“I believe we’ve been down that lane before, but the families aren’t revealing much,” Kabaal said.

“I know. But God wouldn’t give me this vision for nothing. All I know is that the killer was close to her just before he killed her.”

“See? That’s why I wanted you on our side. Only God can help us find this piece of shit.”