There wasn’t a soul in the high street as he rode through the village. He saw no walkers, no cyclists, no motor-bikes, trucks or cars, no children, and no shops were open. It was like a ghost town in a Western movie, without the tumbleweed. Has a plague hit our little village in the night? I know it’s Sunday, but this is very odd.

A hundred metres up ahead, a delivery truck was parked outside Joy’s pub and general store. He couldn’t see anyone, and all was quiet. He sensed a lull preceding imminent danger. A chilling scream broke the eerie silence, followed by a fearsome volley of abuse, as a man’s body sailed out from behind the truck. He landed on his shoulder, and his head bounced on the concrete road. With a groan, he rolled onto his back, taking the weight off his shoulder. But he could barely move, as blood gushed from the head wound caused by the impact and his nose being flattened against his face. He was badly hurt and not in a condition to render harm to anyone. Yet, in an instant, another man ran after the flying body, kicking it, shouting obscenities and gesticulating wildly. It happened in a split second, and there had to be a build-up, which Alfie didn’t see or hear, and no-one else did either. Where was Joy? Where was the delivery man?

One thing Alfie had learned during his time in Thailand, was – do not to get involved in other people’s business – particularly when it involves a level of violence such as this. He was not cut out for this kind of stuff. As he rode past the truck, the assailant stared manically into his eyes, as though he was taking a mental snapshot of the intruder. Alfie was scared, and myriad thoughts raced through his mind as he continued home on auto-pilot. He fell off his bike in the driveway and left it there, while he staggered up the steps. Then he collapsed into his bamboo hammock on the veranda, as Pong rushed out of the house when she heard the noise.

“What’s wrong, what happened, tee-rag?”

He caught his breath and tried to explain what he had just witnessed.

“Never have I seen such anger and aggression as I saw in that man’s wild staring eyes.”

“Do you know him?”

“No.”

“What did he look like?”

“I can’t say, but if I see him again, or just his photograph, I will definitely recognise him. I could never forget those manic eyes and his wild bushy hair.”

The image of the man, who stood like a triumphant gladiator, over his defeated opponent was etched in Alfie’s mind. He tried to imagine what evil thoughts and emotions could enter a person’s head, that would induce them to inflict such injury on a fellow human, but he couldn’t. It was no accident or spur of the moment flare-up. Of that Alfie was certain.

A malaise in modern society had made us almost immune to similar incidents in the world’s inner cities, but when it surfaced in Alfie’s peaceful farming village, it stunned everyone. If the victim was dead, or he died as a result of the assault, the first question would surely be, was it premeditated murder?

The whole village was in shock, but the bizarre events that followed shocked Alfie more.