But I’ve never been good at letting things go. Instead of heading home, I drove to the bend in the road. Blue water trucks were lined up around the corner, waiting their turn. The drivers squatted by the side of the road or stood in groups, gossiping. I left my vehicle at Notos and walked over. The workers and drivers paid no attention to me.
Garbage collection is an unknown concept in much of Africa. Scraps of paper blew in the dusty wind. Cardboard floated in the red puddles. Water bottles were stacked against walls where the wind had left them. I reached the spot where we’d found the woman. I squatted and pulled on a pair of latex gloves—to protect me, not the evidence. I poked through trash, leaves and twigs. I found a handle broken off a cooking pot and the leavings of stray dogs.
Then a flash of color caught my eye. I pulled a glittering red earring out of the rubbish. Glass. I thought back. Yes, the dead woman had been wearing one, and only one, red earring. I slipped it into my pocket. I started to push myself back up. A white square caught my eye. A business card, the sort you’d find anywhere in the world. Reasonably clean with a smudge of red dust in one corner. It hadn’t been there for long.
The card was for Blue Nile Restaurant. A place on the river, with tent fabric for roof and walls. It serves Middle Eastern food, mostly. I’ve been there once. I didn’t care for the cooking and never went back.
I tucked the card into my pocket beside the red earring. Then I went home to get ready for work.