The boys from the bush, of necessity, conducted most of their dealings with the villagers clandestinely, under the cover of darkness. When the day broke, the boys from the bush would be long gone, but the day would almost inevitably bring with it a visit from the security forces, who, through the bush telegraph, had heard that the villagers had entertained the boys from the bush. The villagers would be reminded, as though they could ever forget, that the boys from the bush were terrorists, and that to support them in any way was to break many of the many laws of the country. Those who broke the laws of the country had to be punished. The security forces’ punishments ranged from humiliating to deadly, and the villagers never knew what to expect from their government – humiliation or death.

So when the ceasefire was announced, and the future spoken of with such enthusiasm, the villagers, having long been treated as fools, could be excused for choosing to be angels instead.

And now, of all things, they had to figure out how best to deal with the intelligence boys. If we are not careful, they will lay whatever has happened to Emil Coetzee at our feet, the villagers said. Did you notice how they were surprised when we called Emil Coetzee by his name? Do they honestly think that we do not know what Emil Coetzee looks like? Everyone in the country knows exactly what Emil Coetzee looks like; he is like the Prime Minister – his picture is in the newspaper almost every day.

Why do you think they left the beige bakkie behind? They did not even take the driver’s licence in the glove compartment. They took the hat they found in the bush, though. What does one do with another man’s hat once it is off his head?

You know these intelligence boys have more tricks up their sleeves than sense. Emil Coetzee walked into the bush and did not walk out of it. Two intelligence boys walked into the bush and came out holding a hat and the promise that they would return the following day with a larger crew. We need to act fast, the villagers decided. We need to tell Chief Inspector Spokes Moloi what has happened.

Chief Inspector Spokes Moloi was the only lawman that the villagers trusted completely. Spokes Moloi was one of them – well, not ‘one of them’ in the truest meaning of that phrase, but one of them in the sense that he had married into the village. The villagers’ chests puffed with pride whenever they thought (and they had this thought often) of how Spokes Moloi had gloriously risen through the ranks of the BSAP to become the country’s first black chief inspector. He would have risen higher, they were certain, been Chief Superintendent, Commissioner even, had his skin colour permitted.

They had every reason to be proud of him because Spokes Moloi had begun his illustrious career in this very village by successfully solving The Case of the Missing Would-Be Headman. From the moment the case had been solved, he had become a hero in their eyes and proven himself to be a man of bravery, integrity and intelligence. At least, that was how the villagers chose to remember it.