>> Not knowing the country or system I'm imagining corruption, bribery and mutual back scratching-
There can be a bit of that, although bribery isn't much of a factor when everyone except you knows everyone else, except you. The outsider tends to get the blame.
It's more an emotional thing. People aren't usually watching closely when a crash happens, and not everyone can make a quick, plausible assessment of what has probably happened, from marks on the road, the vehicles and where they have ended up. It can be quite difficult and even the Old Bill can get it wrong or be puzzled.
But when people hear something or arrive to see the injured and the battered motors, crazed opinions can gain sway and someone can start to look like the villain of the piece, however innocent they may be in reality. It can get well hairy.
An anecdote: a late friend, a bit older than me, many years ago being a London jazz drummer, well-respected, who had got a heroin habit, decided to live in Africa for a while to get off junk and hear some, you know, grassroots sounds. He chose Tanzania, married a local village princess and settled there.
A while later he had got into the local music scene, was happy and contented, off junk and drinking the local hooch instead, and had bought a Peugeot 404 pickup, bright blue, with which he made his living moving what the US Vietnam forces used to call ass and trash for small fees. One night he got the job of moving the equipment of some band to a gig venue. The amps and huge speakers were put in the back of the Peugeot with a couple of roadies or band members to supervise them.
At a certain point, hearing cries of alarm and distress, my friend stopped. One of the stoned idiots in the back had elected to sit perched on the top of a tall speaker in the back of the pickup, and on a bend it had toppled over and thrown said idiot into the road causing some sort of injury. My friend had been unaware of the stoned idiot's behaviour until he had fallen out and hurt himself. Naturally he would have advised sternly against it.
The rest of the band turned up, also stoned no doubt, in a following car, decided to blame my friend, laid hands on him and were trying to drop him over the parapet of a nearby viaduct to his death. Fortunately he was strong - and motivated - and resisted a bit, but was outnumbered and staring down the damn precipice when two other guys turned up in another car, unknown to all the parties, and were tough enough to rescue him. They came to say hello when I was staying with him in 1980 in his cluster of grass and adobe huts, no electricity, back of beyond, up by the Rwanda border... so I was honoured to meet them. He had been a clever man, important to me in a couple of ways in my early youth in the louche fifties and sixties Notting Hill. Seemed tough and hard to me at the time, but I had enough sense to see he knew what he was talking about. Cambridge guy, English Literature I think.
You get these mean-spirited evil lynch mob types. Alas they are very common. Fortunately there are good intelligent individuals too, willing sometimes to step in. Just as well eh?
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