No Place To Park (Short Story) by Alexander McCall Smith

Author:Alexander McCall Smith
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Short Stories
Published: 2011-04-22T00:20:37+00:00

The police department arranged for him to go out with a parking officer on a Friday. Fridays were good days, they explained to him, as farmers often came into town then and parked illegally.

"They forget that they're in a city," joked the officer he was with. "They think they're still out in the bush and can park anywhere! We sort them out for sure!"

George noted the vindictive edge to his remark. Farmers deserved sympathy, he thought, with their struggles against drought and pests and low agricultural prices. But he did not say anything; he just filed the comment away for future use. He looked at the officer. He was a small man with a rather defeated look about him. Obviously parking duty was not for the high flier. High fliers went to homicide, he imagined.

They spent the morning going up and down a busy shopping street. The officer took note of several violations, explaining each of them to him in great detail.

"This driver is a serious offender," the officer said, pointing to a battered Holden. "Tax disc is out-of-date. He hasn't even bothered to put money in the machine, and . . ." The 'and' was stressed, as the final word in a litany of sins might be given extra weight. ''And he's way over the line. Look at that! Creating a hazard for other drivers. Shameless!"

"What are you going to do?" asked George, staring at the offending car. It was a homely vehicle, much-loved, he suspected. On the back seat was a child's toy, a teddy bear.

"I'm going to book him for the lot," said the officer, taking out his notebook and beginning to write down the list of violations.

After the officer finished his paperwork, they moved off, on foot, down a side street. It was a narrow access lane with prominently displayed signs stating that parking was forbidden. Yet there was a car parked halfway down the street.

"Look at that," said the officer. "Blatant. And they're sitting in the vehicle too. Bold as brass."

The two men in the car, deep in what appeared to be a heated conversation, had not seen them and started in surprise when the officer tapped smartly on the half-lowered window on the driver's side.

"Do you realise that you're illegally parked, sir?" said the officer firmly. "Would you show me your driver's license, please."

The driver opened his mouth to say something, but no sound came out. He looked shocked.

"Come on, sir," said the officer. "Don't hold me up."

Things happened rather quickly after that. The driver reached forward, started the engine, and thrust the car into gear. Then, with a roar, he pulled away. George reeled back in surprise, while the officer fumbled for his radio.

It was then that they saw the body under the car, lying with arms stretched out, an ugly red-black stain on the front of the shirt. It was the sort of body which crime writers like to describe in graphic detail. Eyes open but unseeing. Fingers clenched. Hair tousled. Feet at an odd angle.

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