HIGH CRIMES

This piece is actual actually my first attempt at writing crime drama, so you the reader will notice how crude it feels compared to C.S.I: 9JA. 🙂
I wrote this piece some 3 years ago when the kidnapping “business” had just bean to bloom in the country. I’m glad things have reduced a little bit now, but we all have to pitch in to change this country for the better, one corp member at a time. 😀
Enjoy the piece and feel free to drop your comments after the read. Thank you for your support, and don’t worry, C.S.I. 9JA will be back real soon. ~ Chrome.

 

The Kidnapping

Rachel ran towards her uncle who was waiting for her at the visitors’ lounge that was situated near the front gate of her school. She was seven years old and the only daughter to a lawyer father (who doubled as a politician) and a businesswoman mother. Being the only child meant she received the highest attention a child could have from her parents. She attended the best school in the area and all the basic amenities she needed to grow up healthy where never lacking around her. It is also for this reason that only her uncle (younger brother to her mother) was allowed to pick her up from school (as her mother dropped her off personally on her way to work). He was always on time to pick her up and he never made any unnecessary stops on their way home. She admired Uncle Buzor so much. He was always nice to her and showed her around the area to the point she had memorized the route with which they took home. It was for this reason that when he took a different route, she began to feel uneasy. She enquired of him why they weren’t taking the normal route which she was used to and, in response, he smiled at her and told her that he had discovered a new route which was faster than their normal route home. She smiled back at him and relaxed in her seat. She told herself she had nothing to be afraid off; Uncle Buzor was there to protect her. She trusted Uncle Buzor with her life.

Buzor straightened up on the driver’s seat and kept his eyes on the road. He knew that the reassuring smile he gave his little niece was a weak one, but he hoped it would be enough to convince her that there was no foul play in progress. He thought back on how the plan was meant to be executed and hoped his cohorts would be there to play out their own parts well. Buzor was the last born of his family and fabled black sheep. He never wanted to get an education and always felt he was being held back in getting the life he so much wanted by going to school. This ultimately led to his dropping out of the university after just three semesters. He wanted things easy and sought out get-rich-quick schemes that never seemed to pan out. About a year ago, he left his parents’ Umuahia residence and moved in with his elder sister and her husband in their cozy abode in Lagos, and felt this was his opportunity to live out the good life absolutely scot-free. Things turned sour for him when recently, his in-law, together with his own sister, began hammering on the need for him to get up and get a job…and get a life of his own. He felt they were hateful, ungrateful people who didn’t want him to enjoy the fruits of their labor with them. He didn’t have that many friends since he came to Lagos, but he did have friends nonetheless, albeit not the kind of friends he could bring home for a social call. And so, he hatched a plan with his ‘friends’, one which he guaranteed them was going to make them instant millionaires.

He looked at little Rachel again and smiled, but this time it was a smile of mischief. She was the center of the plan and the biggest payday he and his friends were going to encounter. He looked back at the road and the smile turned into a nasty grin. They were almost at the extraction point. Things were going according to his brilliant plan.

The car came to an abrupt halt when a gang of heavily armed men jumped out of a nearby parked car and blocked the way. They shot into the air and bystanders fled. Rachel screamed and motioned to Uncle Buzor with her open arms, because she felt she would be safe in his arms. She knew Uncle Buzor would protect her no matter what. This was what he always told her whenever they were on their way back home. She reached for him, but he wouldn’t reach for her. She looked up at his face but she could barely recognize it. He was no longer the sweet uncle with lots of smiles that she knew; he was smiling, but there was something evil about the way he smiled now.

 

The Ransom

The time was 5:30pm when Barrister Chibueze pulled into the parking lot of his home. It was a cozy duplex situated in the government reserved areas of Ijake in Lagos State. He was a well-to-do lawyer with interests in business and politics, and had worked really hard over the years to acquire a small fortune which he was ready to spend on the comfort of his family. A family which consisted of his wife of ten years and seven-year-old daughter, whose coming had been nothing short of a miracle. He had been diagnosed with sterility, even though the doctors hadn’t ruled out the possibility of him bearing a child; they had predicted it would be a 1 in 1,000,000 of a chance. Rachel was that 1 in a million and he was hell-bent on spending millions to ensure she lived a comfortable life.

This was to be the case when he entered into the living room of his home and saw his wife crying and his brother-in-law kneeling on the floor. He noticed that Buzor’s face was bruised and his shirt was bloodied. There was a note on the table in front of his wife. Barrister Chibueze needed nobody to direct him towards the note, and on reading it, he slumped on one of the sofas and stared into space with a dejected gaze.

Buzor permitted himself a small, malicious smile, while he forced the tears that rolled down his cheeks. It was all going according to plan. The injuries he obtained from the beatings he received in the hands of his friends to make the kidnap seem realistic had done a good job of convincing his sister, and now, his brother-in-law. When he returned that evening to meet his sister in the living room, he was limping. He knelt on the ground and gave his best performance in acting remorseful. He then handed the ransom note to her after explaining what had happened. He knew that his brother-in-law would do anything to get his daughter back safely. In fact, he felt the twenty five million naira he and his gang were asking for was pocket change compared to what his sister’s husband could cough up. He was going to get five million naira while his cohorts each got two million. They had given the family thirty-six hours to respond or find their daughter dead in the nearest dumpsite. They were sure to pay, and he and his friends were sure to get paid!

 

The Rescue

Edidiong wasn’t the happiest of persons on the planet at the moment. The feeling didn’t stem from the fact that he came from a low-class family nor was it because he was the first son of his home, which automatically meant that the burden of bringing the family out of the ashes of poverty rested on him. He was not happy at this very moment because of the ‘wrong place at the wrong time’ scenario he had just found himself in. Edidiong’s childhood had been spent in his village which was found in a remote region of Akwa-Ibom state. The only time he left the region was when he got admission into a university situated in Owerri, Imo state. Now a graduate undergoing his one-year compulsory youth service, he was posted to Ogun State, much to his disappointment. He felt that, as a graduate of Petroleum Engineering, he would be posted to oil rich regions of the country like Rivers or Bayelsa States. To make matters worse for him, after the 3-week paramilitary training, he was posted to a remote village to become a teacher in the community primary school as his primary assignment. It took him two full days to find the village and, even after three months, he still wasn’t accustomed to the terrain. On the fateful day, he decided to explore his surrounding but before long he had lost his way back to his lodge. Things would have been a lot easier for him if the region wasn’t so bushy. Thick vegetation confused his bearings and he decided to look for the nearest footpaths. Growing up in the village had taught him a lot of things, one of which was that as long as there was a footpath, it was bound to lead to where people were. He checked his wristwatch and saw the time was 6:30pm. The sky was still bright and he thanked his stars for that. He moved through the thicket until he came across an uncompleted building which must have been abandoned, judging by its dilapidated state, for quite a few years. He was about to turn around and find a new path when he noticed movements in the building. He immediately ducked behind some bushes when a red jeep, closely followed by a very unattractive car, pulled into front side of the building. He watched as six men, carrying guns, stepped out of the cars with a little girl in their company. This was the reason why Edidiong was not a happy person. He knew exactly what was happening. It was a kidnapping and he was a prime witness to the crime. The men outside were joined by their counterparts who were inside the building and Edidiong counted them to a total of ten mean-looking men. He brought out his cell phone but discovered that there was no network coverage. He cursed under his breath. Just then, eight of the men entered into the cars and drove away through the bush tracks towards where Edidiong realized would be the main road. He watched as the remaining two hoodlums led the little girl into the uncompleted building, and he came out from his hiding place. He knew what he was about to do was stupid and suicidal, but his instincts as a firstborn had already kicked in long before reason took control. He stealthily ran up to the rear of the building and peeped in from one of the windows. He noticed that only one of the hoodlums guarded the girl. A quick look around and he saw the second making his way through the bushes at the other end of the plot, which meant he was going to either take a leak or a dump. Edidiong wasted no time. He found a large stick and after jumping through the window, rushed towards the sentry and knocked him out with it.

Rachel screamed as a man wearing dark green trousers and a cap of the same color jumped through one of the windows and hit the man who was told to watch her with a huge stick. The new arrival helped her untie the ropes that were used to tie her hands and her feet. She knew he was a good man. He wore the same clothes some of the uncles and aunties in her school wore on Tuesdays and Thursdays, so she knew she could trust him. Unlike Uncle Buzor who allowed the bad men to carry her away in her daddy’s car. She knew that Uncle Buzor knew the bad men and when she saw them beating him, he was laughing with them. This man in uniform told her to trust him and he was going to take her back home. She believed him and held on to him when he carried her in his arms. His arms felt safe. Not like Uncle Buzor who did not try to save her with his arms; this man was a good man.

Edidiong ran with all his might as he carried Rachel out of the building. At that same time, the second sentry was making his way back to the hideout when Edidiong made a break for the bushes in the same direction the cars went. The hoodlum ran after him. He had a locally-made pump-action shotgun with him and he fired off two shots which sprayed pellets all over the bushes. Edidiong ran as fast as he could, he was beginning to lose his pursuer. The pain in his left shoulder and right butt-cheek didn’t slow him down. Apparently two of the pellets had hit him in those regions but Edidiong was a stoutly built young man. The pellets barely dug into his flesh, thanks to years of farming and pounding yams. But Edidiong was losing blood, which ultimately meant he was gradually losing consciousness. All he thought about was getting the little girl to safety even if it cost him his life. When he eventually saw the expressway, his body was already growing numb. He saw a convoy of cars coming down the expressway and using his last ounce of strength he waved at them…just before he passed out.

 

The Conclusion

Six hours after the abduction of Rachel, Buzor was behind bars with six of his cohorts. Apparently the convoy that Edidiong had flagged down belonged to that of the governor of Ogun State who was returning from an official duty. His security team immediately swooped in and apprehended the hoodlum that was chasing the youth corps member. Interrogations lead to the discovery of the diabolical plan to hold Rachel for ransom. The remaining gang members were accosted en route to the hideout and a shootout ensued. Three members of the gang were killed while one escaped and was still at large. A nationwide manhunt had been placed on him.

Rachel was back in the loving arms of her parents, and Barrister Chibueze was once again a very happy man. While he contemplated rallying around to get the ransom money, he got a call from one of the governor’s security personnel. As it turned out, Rachel was fond of numbers and had memorized her daddy’s phone number just for fun. It proved to be a very helpful hobby as it became easy to locate her parents with the phone number.

Edidiong was recovering in the state university teaching hospital. Because of his bravery, the state governor had announced an increase in the monthly allowance of corps members serving in the state. He also gave Edidiong a scholarship to any university of his choice to pursue his Masters degree. Barrister Chibueze, in a show of appreciation, used his connections to get Edidiong a job in one of the country’s prestigious multinational oil companies. He also decided to sponsor one of Edidiong’s siblings up to the university level.

The End.

February 20, 2013 | Categories: Uncategorized | 2 Comments

C.S.I: 9JA (The Jack And Jill Story: Final Episode!)

 

“Will you be alright?” Edeeth said to Monica.

It had been twenty minutes since the policemen took Anthony Scott away. They were all in the conference room now and Monica had recomposed herself to a degree. Her face however still looked ravaged by her tears; the eyes were still red-rimmed and the features appeared gaunt. As Edeeth looked at her, she couldn’t help but wonder how much she had changed from the vibrant beauty she had seen yesterday morning at the gate of her house. So much had changed since then, Edeeth pondered further. A murderer had been apprehended. A truth had been uncovered. A victim had received justice.

The smile Monica gave was wan. “I’ll be fine,” she said with a nod. She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned around to see it was Walter’s. He was smiling and for a fleeting moment, she had a sense of déjà vu sweep through her. There was something about Walter’s unimposing good looks that reminded her of Jackson.

“You sure about that?” he was asking.

She nodded again. “Really, I’ll be alright.”

“When you are ready to leave, there’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

“Okay, I’ll be a few more minutes.” Then she walked off to meet Chrome. The heavily-built officer was seated at the head of the conference table.

“Hello, sir…” she began meekly.

“Ms. Scott,” Chrome replied with slow nod and a smile.

“I want to thank you again, for everything.”

“I’d like to say it’s my pleasure, but one doesn’t pray to have pleasure from this kind of affair.” He shrugged. “Then again, it’s my job.”

“I just want you to know that I have decided to remain here and finish my schooling and raise my child.”

“Good for you. I know you’ll be okay.”

Nodding in agreement with his words, Monica turned and left his presence.

“Are you ready to go?” Walter asked her when she approached him in the hallway.

“Yes, please.”

“Just one second.” He walked away from her, and hurried down the hall to where Edeeth stood. She had just finished taking a phone call when he came to stand next to her. “Hey, beautiful,” he cooed.

Edeeth rolled her eyes exaggeratedly, but said with a smile, “What favor do you need, Wally?”

“Well, um…it’s not really a favor.”

“What is it then?”

“Well…you see…now that the case is over. Maybe…you know…we could get a drink or something tonight?”

“Walter Udeme! You never learn, do you?”

Walter shrugged and gave an abashed smile. “Learn what, pray tell?”

Edeeth shook her head. “Never mind. Thanks for the offer, but I can’t go. Sorry.”

His smile tightened, and he nodded mutely.

“Besides, I already have a date,” Edeeth added.

He lifted his brows in theatrical wonder. “You don’t say.”

Edeeth frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Edeeth Ajuala, the iron maiden, going on a date? You can’t even bring yourself to have lunch with a guy, or drinks with me. Yet, here you are, using the big D-word.”

She laughed lightly and said, “Of course, I go on dates if I like. I just don’t tell you every time I have to doll myself up.” She turned around and started sauntering away. Over her shoulder, she added, “And whoever told you it was with a guy?”

Walter’s jaw dropped.

***

Walter and Monica arrived at the Jos University Teaching hospital an hour later. The time was already well past the hour of 2:00pm. They had finished making enquiries at the reception and the nurse who Walter met in Anderson Gyang’s room the previous night – Nurse Yvonne, he remembered – led them to the recovery room where the elderly man was. He was more alert and looked stronger than he did the night before. Walter ushered Monica into the room and followed in behind her. Anderson smiled when he saw Walter and his eyes stared enquiringly at Monica.

Walter was the one who started. “Good afternoon, sir. You’re looking better than yesterday.”

Anderson readjusted himself on his bed and laughed lightly. “A lot of things turned me into the frail, sniveling old man you sat with yesternight. I’m a lot stronger than that.”

And he seemed to be getting some of that strength back, Walter noticed.

Anderson glanced at Monica again. “You are Ms. Scott, right?”

Monica nodded.

Walter went on to tell Anderson all that had happened and how they caught Jackson’s killers. As he talked, a smile, gentle and wispy, curved Anderson’s mouth and remained anchored there. By the time Walter finished his narrative, his eyes were eclipsed by a glassy sheen of tears held back.

“Thank you…thank you so much,” he rasped.

Walter then turned to Monica and said, “Monica, I brought you here so you can get to meet Sir Anderson Gyang. He is…Jackson’s father.”

Monica’s hand flew to her mouth as it dropped open and her surprised gaze flew to Anderson. There were questions in her eyes too. “How can – I don’t understand…”

“In due time, my dear,” Anderson replied.

“I’m not done yet,” Walter interjected. He was facing Anderson now. “Sir, Monica was not just Jackson’s fiancée. She is also the mother of his child.”

It was Anderson’s turn to look surprised. His surprise however quickly made way for a wide, pleasant grin that split his face. “There was a time in the not-so distant past, when I thought the fates were mocking me by taking away my son from me. But with this” – he lifted his eyes heavenward – “thank you, God.”

Walter pulled up a chair close to the bed for Monica to sit on and said, “I believe the both of you have a lot of catching up and explaining to do.” He gestured to Monica to sit and he continued, “Take as much time as you want, I’ll be at the reception if you need me.” With that he walked out of the room. Just before he shut the door, he peered into the room, watching as Monica sat, as Anderson took her hand tenderly in his, as they both began to talk at once before bursting out into laughter. He watched the new family that had been created. It made him smile before he wandered off towards the reception.

***

Later in the evening, Edeeth’s car pulled up in front of a duplex in a suburban area of Jos metropolis called Barkinladi. She rang the door bell and was let in by a maid. She sat on one of the plush leather couches in the sitting room and waited for her host. In a few minutes, a good-looking woman of roughly the same age as Edeeth came in and both ladies hugged each other affectionately.

“Oh my good Lord!” the woman exclaimed, her lips peeled back to reveal her gap-toothed smile. “Edeeth – so nice of you to drop by!”

“You know I’m never too busy for my only sister,” Edeeth replied with a wink.

The woman chuckled. Eketi was her name, and she was Edeeth’s stepsister, about the only member of Edeeth’s family who she still maintained close contact with, mainly because they’d grown up very close to each other. Eketi lived in Jos and Edeeth’s visit would be the second time they were seeing each other since she flew into Jos with the CSI team for the investigation that had brought them here.

“So, Eky, how’s the family?”

“Fine, my dear. The kids are already in bed. Onuoha should be back from work any moment from now.” She paused and then said, “I’m glad you dropped by. After the last time you came, I feared you would not be able to come again, seeing as you’re so busy fighting crime.” She softened the sting in her remark with a smile.

“To tell you the truth, I wouldn’t have made it here. We had wrapped up the case that brought us here and would have already flown back to Abuja, if not for a second murder case that literally dropped on us yesterday.”

“Well, if it weren’t in such poor taste, I’d have said a big thanks to the murder for happening and hence bringing you here.”

They shared a laugh.

“So how goes it?” Eketi asked.

“It’s over now. I’m not sure about our itinerary but I had to see you quick before our departure, whenever it will be.”

“Well, then,” Eketi said, adjusting her bulk on the couch beside her sister, “let us make the most of the time we have together then.”

And for several moments, they chatted and giggled and bounced from topic to topic, painting the picture of two teenagers playing catch-up.

“So, Edie, any special guy in your life now,” Eketi suddenly asked at some point in their conversation, “or do you still believe all men are God’s mistake to this world?”

Edeeth laughed uproariously at her sister’s words. When she sobered, she thought for a moment and then said, “Well, I still fly air-Edeeth solo.”

Eketi looked searchingly at her and said, “But there is someone, right?”

“Not really.”

“That just leaves the minutest probability that there’s someone.”

“Well, that probability will remain unexplored, you this woman. Ah-ah, leave me alone oh.” They both laughed again before segueing into other items of gossip.

***

Chrome looked at his watch. The time was 8:15pm. He was seated in a restaurant situated at the heart of Jos metropolis, sharing a light dinner with Manny, Jerome and Stacey. They were cracking jokes and recanting the high points of the case they had just closed. Chrome’s mind drifted for a moment and it took him a while to realize that Manny had directed a comment at him.

“I’m sorry?” he suddenly said as he refocused on their conversation.

“I said, I heard you actually rephrased a popular children’s nursery rhyme,” Manny repeated.

“Oh that? Well…yes, I guess I did.”

“Wow,” Stacey said in admiration while Jerome, as usual, stifled a laugh.

The table fell silent for a moment and then Manny said, “Man, you know that’s gay!”

There was an outburst of laughter; Chrome himself was caught up with his mirth. The merriment continued for about an hour before they all decided to call it a night. Outside the restaurant, Chrome walked Manny and Stacey over to the car they came in, while Jerome walked off to where he had parked the car he and Chrome had ridden. Chrome watched as Manny’s car pulled out from where it was parked and he waved at them as they drove off into the main road. For a moment he felt silly for doing that because they were all headed for the same hotel. Jerome pulled up the car very close to where he was standing. He was opening the passenger door to get in when his phone rang. He brought it out of his suit pocket and, without a glance at the caller ID, he answered.

“Hello?”

There was silence for a few seconds and then the all-too familiar synthesized voice came through the speaker, “Good evening, Officer Chrome.”

Feeling a slight unease, Chrome removed the phone from his ear and peered at the screen. The ID was unknown. It was the prankster again. He placed the phone back against his ear and said in a stern voice, “Who are you?”

“All will be revealed in due time,” said the synthesized voice. “I enjoyed our time spent together.”

“Our time spent together? Who is this and what are you talking about?” Chrome snapped.

The voice laughed through the phone speaker, the kind of laugh whose balefulness seemed to be enhanced by the mechanical camouflage its owner was speaking through, and then said, “Like I said, all in due time. By the way, I like the shirt you’re wearing today. Blue really suits you. It’s also my favorite color.”

And the line went dead.

Chrome’s eyes widened; he was wearing a blue shirt underneath the black suit he had on. He instantly gave an involuntary startled look around the well-lit car park of the restaurant. For some reason, he’d had an instinctual feeling that his caller was lurking around close by. He saw no one or nothing that didn’t seem to fit in with the environment. a few cars were pulling into parking spots, and a couple more were driving away. Couples were traversing the car park to and from the restaurant. Then again, it was nighttime and the darkness could cloak whoever or whatever wasn’t supposed to be here.

Giving up his visual search, he got into the car beside Jerome.

“Is everything alright?” Jerome asked as he ignited the car.

For a moment, Chrome didn’t say anything. He seemed lost in his thoughts.

“Sir?” Jerome ventured again.

He drew in a rousing inhalation and said, “Oh, it’s nothing serious. Let’s be on our way.”

Seconds later, they were out of the car park and onto the main road which led back to their hotel.

***

The next morning saw much activity in the CSI conference room as the team cleared out their desks and put away all necessary documents into the appropriate files. There was a faint stir in the atmosphere, a restrained impatience as they silently anticipated their departure from Jos.

Edeeth had just zipped up her laptop bag when Walter called out to her: “Hey E!” She smiled at him as he came closer. “Hey you, done with your end of the packing?”

“Yes, indeedio,” Walter replied in a cheery tone.

“My, someone seems to have woken up on the right side of the bed today.” With her eyes narrowing in mock-suspicion, she added, “Did we really drop Monica off at the hospital like we promised?”

Walter laughed out loud at her insinuation and was about to reply when his phone rang. He held up a finger at Edeeth and answered the call.

In another corner of the room, Chrome had just ended a call he had put through to Ruth. He gave her the good news about the case being wrapped up and how they were going to have a fantastic time at the Kuru Hills. A trip to the hills was a vacation time he was planning to embark on with his girlfriend after returning to Abuja.

“Hey Chief,” Walter called out to him. He had his phone in his hand. “I just got a call from Inspector Adepoju.” Tony Adepoju was the Police Inspector in Charge of the Lagos State police command and a very close friend of Chrome’s.

“Hey – what did Adepoxy want…and why didn’t he call my line?”

“He said he had tried, but your line was busy,” Walter replied, and added, “He said the Lagos State governor requests our assistance in a new case over in Lagos. Something to do with the bar beach.”

Edeeth and Jerome groaned loudly at this, and Chrome sighed in reluctance. So much for the break they’d all been looking forward to. Chrome knew that Adepoju was more than capable of dealing with normal cases, but since they were being called upon, it meant the case was a little different from ‘normal’. Besides, there was no way they could turn down a request made by a governor. Chrome sighed again and then turned to Jerome. “Jay, how’s the bird?” He was referring to the private jet that they made use of in their travels from city to city.

“The bird’s ready to fly, sir. Air crew is awaiting our arrival,” Jerome responded.

Chrome nodded and said in a voice that included the others, “We have to report to base first and hand in our report for the last two cases closed. We will take a few hours to rest and then make our way to Lagos.” He looked at his watch. The time was 8:30am. He turned to Walter and said, “Wally, call Adepoxy and tell him we’ll be there by 5pm.”

“Yes, sir,” Walter replied and proceeded to make the call.

5pm? Oh well, I suppose I can squeeze in a quick bubble bath before then, Edeeth thought. She looked up when Chrome asked her about Manny and Stacey. “They are already at the reception waiting for us,” she replied.

“Okay.” Chrome took a deep breath and said, “Alright, people, you’ve all done a good job here. It’s time to say goodbye to Jos.”

They filed out of the conference room until Chrome was left standing alone. He looked through the window and saw the Kuru Hills in the horizon, a grayish solid mass which stood immersed in cloudy mists that seemed to add to its mystery and menace. “I guess it’s until next time then,” he said in a low tone, and walked out of the room after his colleagues.

 

 

*And so, one chapter closes and another one opens. The adventures of our elite C.S.I: 9JA unit continues in another thrilling season coming soon. I would like to use this opportunity to thank all who supported me in the creation of this series, especially my close friend Walter Uchenna Ude ( www.mymindsnaps.wordpress.com ) and my followers on twitter and facebook. I pray that God blesses you all as you have blessed me with your time. I would also like to use this opportunity to inform all who have immensely contributed to the success of this series, which is you the readers, that I would be taking a break of about 2 months. I need this time off to work on a certain project which I would reveal when the time is right. I would still be dropping some thrilling stories from time to time within this period. I thank you all once again for your support and understanding. Feel free to drop comments on how you feel the series can be improved. See you in 8 weeks. Adios.

 

February 3, 2013 | Categories: Uncategorized | 4 Comments

C.S.I: 9JA (The Jack And Jill Story: Episode 21)

“What?!” Chief Anthony exclaimed in startle, “What did you just say?” His surprise was slowly turning to anger as he directed his gaze at Chrome. “My friend, am I not talking to you?!” he asked the silent officer, his voice beginning to gain volume, “I asked – what did you just say?”

Chrome took a step back from him and motioned to the table. “Take your seat, sir.”

Anthony cast a fretful look around, from one officer to the next. “What the devil is going on here?!” he half screamed at them. His gaze finally fell on Monica. She had been standing a foot away from him the whole time and the befuddled look on her face was enough to tell that she had no idea what was unveiling before her.

Noticing his eyes on hers, she said in a tremulous voice, “Daddy, what’s going on?”

“How am I supposed to know?” Anthony said snappishly. “I don’t understand why these charlatans are implying by saying –”

Chrome began, “We are not implying –”

“My friend, don’t speak to me until what is coming out of your mouth is an explanation,” the commissioner spat viciously at him. “What is the meaning of this embarrassment of seismic proportions!? Such a preposterous accusation!” he fumed.

Chrome replied, unfazed by the other man’s indignation, “Have a seat, sir.” His voice was soft and respectful, but there was something steely in the words that finally communicated itself to the commissioner.

Anthony snapped up straight, and his brows came down in affront. But he quickly swallowed his outrage, turned and stomped to one of the seats, dropping onto the chair with a huff. Monica moved to sit down, her movements more sedate.

“Alright, officer, let’s hear it,” Anthony said, then he leaned forward on the table and added, “But mark my words. If you have nothing to back any accusations you throw at me, I will bury you! You, and your posse!” With this, he divided a pointedly menacing look amongst the other officers.

They had already arranged themselves inside the room. Edeeth and Jerome stood at opposite ends of the room, and Walter was setting up the projector he had been carrying on the table. Chrome brought out a small object from his pocket and placed it on the table. It was the digital voice recorder. He pressed a button on it and it began to playback a conversation. Everyone fell silent as the voice from the recorder filled the room. It was a conversation between Jerome and Dapo.

“Alright, I’ll tell you everything.” It was Dapo’s voice. “As you already know, I work for Chief Scott. He employed me after I was released from prison here in Nigeria. I worked for him as his driver and personal bodyguard. He treated me well and over the years, he gained my trust and I looked up to him as a mentor.” There was a pause in the recording, as though Dapo had stopped to catch his breath before continuing, “I would do anything to see him happy, and he knew this. One day, a few weeks after the last gubernatorial elections in Akwa-Ibom State, he called me to his study and told me he needed my help. I asked him what he needed and he told me that he knew about my military background. He also told me that he knew about my juvenile record and he promised that he would make sure my record is never found out by anyone, that is, if I did something for him.” There was another pause which lasted for a few seconds.

Then Jerome’s voice intoned, “What something did he want you to do for him?”

Dapo answered, “I told him I would do whatever he needed me to do. He then told me about his political rival in the race for Commissioner of Education in the state who was after his life. He wanted me to take care of his rival before the man did him in.”

“What is the name of his rival?” Jerome asked.

“His name, I understand, was Mr. Josiah Essien. He was the C.E.O. of a major corporation there in Uyo. The chief wanted me to get to him and his family, and it was meant to look like an accident. I tailed Mr. Essien from his workplace on a Saturday and waited until it was night, and then I snuck into his garage and tampered with the brakes of his car. I also tampered with the accelerator and then I left. The next day, on their way to back from church, the brakes finally gave out and since the accelerator was tampered with, the car kept throttling until they crashed. When I heard the news report that it was the whole family involved in the crash, I was satisfied. Chief was satisfied with my work and rewarded me handsomely. A few days later, he was chosen to be the Commissioner of Education in the state.”

At this juncture, Monica shot her father an incredulous look. Anthony felt her gaze on him but he refused to meet it, as he stared resolutely at the recorder, listening as the recording continued playing.  

“A year after, he sent me here, in Jos, to be his daughter’s personal bodyguard…much to her displeasure. He asked me to watch over her and report anything suspicious. It didn’t take long before she started seeing the young man, Jackson.” There was another pause and shuffling could be heard through the recorder, as though Dapo was trying to adjust himself on his seat. He continued after the shuffling stopped, “I reported this to Chief and he instructed me to find out more about her boyfriend. Chief came to Jos a few times after that, and his daughter introduced them. I think he took a liking to the boy. However, I had a feeling deep within me of Jackson’s familiarity to me. After a while, Chief contacted me and told me that I had to make a plan to take him out” – Monica gave a teary gasp – “and make it look like an accident. I didn’t understand why and he refused to tell me. He just insisted that I kill him, and do it soon. My chance to eliminate Jackson came when I overheard Monica with him on the phone in the morning of the night in question. They had set a date to meet at his house that night. I called the chief and told him about it. I also told him about my plan. He asked me about the time and I told him. He then gave me the green light. As night fell, I followed Monica to his place and found out that they were going to the hill top to hang out. I had followed them there once so I knew a quick way to get there without being spotted. I had planned to knock him out and immobilize Monica with a hankie soaked with chloroform. But as I rushed out from my hiding place and hit him, Monica suddenly attacked me. I had to go rough on her, something I would never think of doing. I decided to kill him there. As I tried to strangle him, Monica dug her nails into my face. It hurt so much and I had to let go. I needed to immobilize her before I could go ahead with my mission, but Jackson yelled out to her to run. And she did. I tried going after her, but he grabbed hold of me. In the bid to free myself, I shoved him off and he missed a step and fell over the edge of the hill top.”

Dapo’s voice came through the tiny speakers of the recorder cold and matter-of-fact, belying the horror of his narrative. “For a moment, I was confused. I didn’t know whether to run after Monica or go down the hill to check on Jackson. I decided to get back to the house as fast I could before Monica got there.”

He stopped, and then a heavy silence ensued in the interrogation room. The silence was however broken by Monica’s sniffles. Moments later, Jerome’s voice sounded from the recorder, “So, Dapo, are you saying that Chief Anthony Scott instructed you to sabotage the car of the Josiah Essien in order to kill him and his family two years ago?”

“Yes,” came the reply.

“And are you also saying that it was Chief Anthony Scott who instructed you to murder Jackson Essien?”

“Yes.”

“Will you be willing to stand by these claims and testify if ever called upon?”

The pause was brief, fleeting. “Yes.”

“Thank you.”

The conversation ceased and the recorder stopped playing. Chrome picked it up and placed it back into his pocket. The room was still quiet.

Anthony looked up at him, a remorseless expression on his face, and hissed, “Is this what you have against me –the confessions of a pathological liar?” He suddenly burst into a light, humorless laughter and shook his head.

A visibly shaken and teary-faced Monica lifted a hand to his shoulder. Her eyes were enquiring so many things at the same time. “Daddy, was all that true?”

“Of course not, my dear,” her father replied forcefully. “These nickel-and-dime nincompoops are buying into the lies of an ex-convict. Someone who would readily say anything just to get away from jail time.” He gave another short bark of laughter.

At that moment, Walter walked over to Chrome and whispered something into his ear. It almost seemed as if Chrome smiled for a second as he listened.

Anthony stood abruptly, saying, “If this” – he pointed an irate finger at the recorder – “is all you have on me, then I believe you don’t have a case.”

Chrome said quietly, “Sit down, sir. I haven’t even begun.”

The commissioner slowly sat back, fleeting perplexity passing over his features.

Chrome continued, “I know that with respect to the case of the murder of Mr. and Mrs. Josiah Essien, it’s your word against Dapo’s. So, there’s no case there, and I have no interest in it. But I said earlier that we have reason to believe that you murdered Jackson Essien.”

“And I suppose you think any prosecutor will agree to try this case simply on the word of an ex-con against me?” Anthony sneered.

“No,” Chrome answered, almost genially, putting his hand into his pocket, “no, I don’t believe so. And that is why I’m going to ask you a few questions. I believe you will answer truthfully.”

There was no response from the chief.

Chrome went on, “Where were you, sir, on the night in question?”

“I was at home,” Anthony answered promptly.

“Which of your homes?”

“The one in Uyo – where else?” The words were marinated with irritation.

“I see. So that means that you were nowhere near Jos when the murder happened. Is that correct?”

“Of course – Yes! Listen, you can ask my daughter if you think I’m lying.”

“Don’t worry, sir, your story checks out with hers.” Chrome paused for a moment and stepped out of the way of the projector. He nodded at Walter who switched it on. An image instantly appeared on the wall beside Chrome. It was a still image from the airport surveillance camera. It was one of the things Walter had procured from the airport that morning with Chude’s help. Chrome looked at the image, aware that the Scotts were doing the same, and then he turned back to Anthony and said, “If you say you were in Uyo, then how come you are seen here, albeit under a poor disguise, in the arrivals lounge of the Jos airport?” Chrome nodded again at Walter and he pushed a button on the projector. The image changed on the wall. “Here, we can see a copy of the printed manifest belonging to the airline you boarded from Uyo to Jos on the day in question.” The projector clicked off after Chrome had spoken. He looked intently at Anthony and said, “Care to explain how you could be in two places at the same time, sir?”

The chief was silent. Chrome could see the slight movements of his eyes and he knew that the man was trying to mentally concoct a story.

Finally, he smiled and said, “Okay, you’ve got me. I was in Jos that night. But I came into Jos for an entirely different reason. It was pure coincidence that such a thing would happen to the poor boy on the same night.”

Monica, who had been quiet all the while, whirled on him. “Dad…what are you – you were here, in Jos, last night? Why didn’t you tell me you were in town?!”

Her father smiled to her and sighed before saying, “My dear girl, you were going to find out eventually. I didn’t think it would be this way.” He waited a beat before continuing, “I’m having an affair with one of the ladies at the country club.”

Monica recoiled from him instantly, betrayal suffusing her features. From the corner where she stood, Edeeth arched a brow. Jerome stifled a sudden laugh, while Chrome and Walter remained emotionless.

Ignoring the stir, Anthony said, “There, I’ve said it. Officers, I thank you. For destroying my marriage and my relationship with my daughter, I thank you. If you think I’m lying, you are free to call my lover. She will vouch for my whereabouts on the night in question.”

“Oh I don’t doubt that,” Chrome said. “In fact, we know that you visited a certain Ms. Caroline Gyok, who lives on Bauchi road. We also know about the rented car.”

The chief was visibly startled by that, but quickly regained his aplomb and pounced, “You see? So how am I the murderer?”

“When I said that we knew about the rented car,” Chrome interjected, “didn’t that surprise you?” The commissioner was silent and Chrome continued, “Well, I guess this should also come as a shock to you. The car rental service you patronized fit their vehicles with GPS tracking devices.” He nodded at Walter and the projector came on again. This time the image on the wall was that of the satellite image for the GPS tracker that was in the car Chief Scott rented. “As you can see, this is a satellite image of all the places you visited on the night in question.” He walked over and touched a particular spot on the image. “This spot here, this is where the car you were driving stopped closest to the hills.” The projector was switched off again and Chrome walked back to the table.

Anthony was silent. Monica was beginning to quiver.

Chrome continued, “We found some tire tracks and footprints on the ground at a spot behind the hills, and we took some shots of the tracks. And they matched those of the tires of the jeep you rented.” Chrome looked pointedly at Anthony and asked, “Sir, what size of shoes do you wear?”

Anthony was silent. He slowly sat up on his chair and muttered, “All these evidence are inconsequential. They won’t hold any water in court.”

“We both know they will.” Chrome nodded at Walter and the image on the screen changed again. This time it was the image of what Walter had seen in the hotel room where Anthony had stayed that night. It was a blood stain on the wall near the door. The stain had a peculiar pattern. “Do you know what that is, sir?”

“How the hell am I supposed to know!” he spat in anger.

“That is a blood stain found at the hotel room which we believe that you stayed in before venturing off to Bauchi road. One of my colleagues took the liberty of carrying out a blood test on it. There was enough blood material and the test was successful. It turns out that the blood was a match with that of our victim, Jackson Essien.”

Monica had started sobbing again. Softly. Dejectedly. The cries of a woman beaten down by so many truths she didn’t want to have to accept.

Walter switched off the projector, moved to a corner of the room and lifted up – to the sight of everyone in the room – a golf bag. When he saw the bag, Anthony stiffened.

Chrome continued, “You see, our autopsy report shows that the injury that killed Jackson was blunt force trauma to the head. Our skilled doctors were able to reconstruct the murder weapon.” He walked over to the golf bag and brought out a nine iron club. “This is what was used to kill Jackson. We found pieces of the coating on the head inside the wound inflicted on Jackson’s head.” He put the club back and faced the chief again, his voice rising a little, “So, let me piece it all together for you. You sent Dapo to kill Jackson, but you flew into Jos just to make sure he does. Dapo had kept you apprised of his plans, so you knew to go the hill to wait and watch. You waited until he threw Jackson down the hill and you revealed yourself and finished the job. You went back to your hotel room, dropped the golf club behind the door, and then washed it up in the bathroom before driving off to Bauchi Road to see your supposed mistress. Do I have it right so far?”

Anthony stared back at Chrome, a gamut of emotions running across his face, dominant among them being impotent rage. Beside him, Monica’s cries had crescendoed a bit. She kept muttering, “Daddy, please tell me it’s not true…”

But her father sat in stony silence.

His mulish uncooperativeness began to irk Chrome, and the officer leaned forward, placing his hands on the table. “The only thing bugging me right now, is – Why? Why did you want Jackson Essien killed?”

There was no response from Anthony.

Chrome’s voice began to rise as he said, dropping his cordiality, “Why did you kill him, Anthony?! Why?”

Still, the other man said nothing. His mouth however had begun to tremble slightly, and the muscles on his face were working.

Chrome pressed on, “You killed his parents. What possible harm could a mere aspiring young man like that cause him? What aggravation did he cause you that was big enough for you to want him dead? Why did you kill him?!”

Anthony suddenly burst out, flying up from his seat, a snarling expression on his face, “You want to know why?! Do you really want to know why?! Ok then – I’ll tell you why!” Spittle flew from his mouth as he raged on. “Are you familiar with curses, my friend? Well, if you are, then you will know the gravity of a friendly relationship between me and the son of my enemy! There was no way I was going to allow the seed of that wretched family I swore to destroy plant itself in my own.”

At his outburst, Monica’s mouth fell open. Disbelief suffused her face. Her throat worked as the word started its climb. When it burst forth through her lips, it was piercing and strident. “NO!” And she leaped to her feet, lunging toward her father, her eyes mad, her fingers hooked into claws. But her intent was cut short when Edeeth moved quickly forward and tackled her into her arms. Monica struggled fiercely for a while, but her strength, no matter how grief-driven, was no match for the officer’s implacable hold. She beat at Edeeth’s arms, all the while screaming at her startled father, “How could you! Daddy – why! How could you!”

Anthony turned his face from his distraught daughter back to Chrome and said, “I guess this is the part where you try to arrest me, right?” He straightened up and smiled sinisterly. “Don’t think that will be easy. I am of course a commissioner and I am under some immunity.”

“No, you’re not,” Chrome said stonily and motioned to the uniformed officers who had come into the room. One of them moved swiftly to the commissioner’s back and pulled his resistant arms behind him.

“What is the meaning of this?” Anthony fumed as he felt the cold touch of steel on his wrists as the policeman whipped the handcuffs over them. “Do you know who I am? I will bury you and all the evidence you have!”

Chrome brought his hand out from his pocket. He was holding on to the digital recorder. It had been recording their conversation from the moment he put his hands into his pocket. He looked at the Chief, whose eyes widened with shocked realization, and said, “You see, sir, you are a commissioner for Education in Akwa-Ibom State and you committed a crime in Plateau state. I’m sorry, but your immunity doesn’t cover you in a jurisdiction this far. Besides” – Chrome walked up to him and said – “I am a federal police officer. I answer directly to the Chief of Defense Staff. I can arrest you anywhere.”

For a tense moment, both men stared at each other, Chrome with cold despisal and Anthony with naked dislike. He finally hissed at the officer, “This isn’t over, I can promise you that. I will get out of this and come for you and your measly band of morons! Mark my words!”

Chrome smiled and said to him, “Stop me if you know this nursery rhyme.

‘Jack and Jill went up a hill

To share some bottles of Larger

Jack fell down and we know his crown

Was broken by Jill’s own father.’”

“You bastard,” Anthony spat.

“Takes one to know one,” Chrome riposted. “You fought so hard to extinguish a family that did nothing to you. And you did this without any regard for how much roots it already has in yours.”

When the meaning behind his words sunk into Anthony’s mind, he turned his head slowly round to look at his daughter. Monica now leaned heavily into Edeeth’s arms, crying so much it seemed as though her grief would dehydrate her.

“Monica…” he rasped in an inaudible voice.

“I pray this sight of your daughter all broken up stays with you for a long, long time,” Chrome said. And he signaled to the uniforms who marched him out of the room.

February 2, 2013 | Categories: Uncategorized | 3 Comments

C.S.I: 9JA (The Jack And Jill Story: Episode 20)

In a little over forty-five minutes, all the C.S.I. officers were assembled in the interrogation room 2, where Dapo Ajayi was being held. Walter, who had gone back to his hotel room to get a change of clothing after he was checked at the emergency first aid room, was the last officer to arrive, and he entered the room just in time to see Jerome begin questioning the suspect.

“You do know the reason why you are seated here, don’t you?” Jerome was saying, his eyes fixed stonily on the man.

Dapo didn’t say anything in response. He just sat there, his face set carefully in a cold expressionless stare.

Jerome continued, “That is beside the fact that you just tore up a police station and put quite a number of officers in the hospital.” He looked back at Walter, who was whispering something into Chrome’s ear, and then back at Dapo. Jerome noticed there was a slight smile on Dapo’s lips; it was so faint it was almost not there.

“I see you find that last part amusing,” Jerome said tersely.

Dapo responded to that, “Not entirely.” His tone was cool; it betrayed no emotion as he continued, “Just the part where I whupped your boy’s ass.” He looked at Walter as he spoke.

Walter arched a brow coldly back at him.

Dapo reclined on his chair and tried putting his cuffed hands behind his head in a bid to feign comfort; but that wasn’t possible to pull off, so he placed them back on top of the table in front of him. He began looking at the officers before him, one after the other, his gaze taunting, daring, scornful. “Well…” he drawled, “What is this? Amateur hour? Where’s the good cop–bad cop routine? Surely they must have taught you that when you were in the police college!” He chuckled softly, mockingly. It was obvious he was trying to elicit some obvious antagonism from the officers.

Much to his displeasure, none of them flinched or showed any sign of vexation towards his remarks. Jerome leaned forward on the table and said, “I can see this isn’t your first rodeo when it comes to police interrogations, eh?” Dapo shrugged and Jerome continued, “As you are, no doubt, already aware, we aren’t your everyday police department. You see, we know things. Things other people may never get the privilege of knowing. Things people would never believe even if you tattooed it to their faces.” As he talked, he opened a file that was on the table and took out a sheet of paper which he placed in front of Dapo.

Dapo looked at it and his eyes widened.

Jerome said, “For instance, we know that your name isn’t really Dapo Ajayi, but actually Daphour Highjay. We also know for a fact that you’re not Nigerian, but you’re actually a Cameroonian immigrant who sought asylum in this country twenty years ago after you committed manslaughter in Douala as a juvenile.”

Dapo pushed the paper away from him. It was a copy of his records which were meant to be sealed and confidential. He shot his interrogator a snarling look, aware that the others were watching him, carefully observing his reaction. Hot anger brewed in his eyes.

Jerome continued, “I know, I know. Nobody was meant to see these records, right?” It was his turn to taunt Dapo. He walked around the table and stood behind the chair Dapo sat on and said, “But as you can see, we know. So I would advise you not to underestimate us.”

Dapo muttered something in French which sounded suspiciously like a cussword.

“Now back to what I was saying,” said Jerome, “you are not in this room because you shot up a police station – well, not originally. The main reason why you are seated here, wearing those handcuffs, is because we have overwhelming evidence which puts you as a suspect in the murder of Jackson Essien.” Jerome opened the file before him again. He brought out another sheet of paper and placed it in front of Dapo. He picked up the other paper which had Dapo’s records and put it back. “In front of you is a copy of the DNA analysis carried out on a sample retrieved from the crime scene.” Dapo looked down at the paper. “As you can see from the data, your DNA and that of Miss Monica Smith were found on the sample. Now, we have gotten Monica’s testimony which puts you as the killer.” Jerome looked at Edeeth and she nodded before he continued, “But you should know, it’s her word against yours, and going by your records, I’d say the odds are totally not in your favor.”

Dapo leaned forward on his seat and said, “So, what do you want me to do, hmmm?” Slowly, he divided a mocking look between the people in the room. “You want me to own up to the crime, confess that I’m the killer? Is that it?” He shook his head and slammed his cuffed fists on the table. “Not gonna happen!”

Jerome’s face wore no emotion as he said, “Well, I see you’re still indecisive as to owning up.” He opened the file again but this time, he brought out some photos with another sheet of paper. “Maybe these will help you decide.” He placed the pictures in front of Dapo. “Like I said before, we know things,” he concluded with an enigmatic smile.

Before Dapo were the pictures of the car parts and the wreckage from the accident which involved Jackson’s parents. The same pictures that had been sent by the police inspector at the Akwa-Ibom State police command.

“Take a good look at these pictures, Dapo, or should I call you Daphour? I don’t know, I guess either of the two would do, right?” Pointing at the pictures, he said, “I’m sure you are familiar with wreckage and car parts you see before you.”

Dapo didn’t look at them. He just cocked his brow at Jerome.

The officer said, “What I’m getting at is this” – he dropped the sheet of paper he was holding beside the DNA result from the fingernail sample. The new sheet of paper was another DNA test result. It was the DNA test result gotten from the hair follicle found within the wreckage of the Essien’s car. “You see this is the DNA result from a hair sample gotten from the wreckage you see before you. From the two DNA results before you, it is obvious what I’m getting at, isn’t it?”

Dapo looked then. The information on the one from the hair follicle was identical to that from the fingernail. He shrugged, leaned back in his chair and said, “So what does this prove?”

Walter’s and Chrome’s whispered conversation ended then, and Walter left the room, leaving Chrome to return his attention to the interrogation.

Jerome was saying, “It does seem that your DNA appeared at both crime scenes, and both deaths were meant to look like accidents, only that they weren’t. This proves that you must really hate the Essiens. Or” – he leaned forward – “you must be carrying out the biddings of someone who does.” He suddenly noticed a flicker in Dapo’s eyes and Jerome instinctively knew that he had just struck a nerve. He pressed on, “I want to believe that you bear no grudge against the Essien family. After all, there are no connections between you and them. So tell us who sent you and instructed you to carry out these crimes, or do you wish to take the fall for this person?”

Dapo looked away from Jerome. He was walking the tight rope now. He knew he had to regain some leverage somehow. He looked at Chrome, his gaze calculating, and then he glanced to his left where Edeeth stood, still gazing intently at him. He hated being stared at like that, especially by women. He looked back at Chrome, measuring the distance between them both and back at Edeeth. He knew he had to make his move now or never. He suddenly pushed away from his seat and sprang forward, in Edeeth’s direction. He covered the distance between them in seconds, his cuffed hands stretched to grab her neck. Edeeth’s face registered neither alarm nor mild surprise at his sudden attack before she swiftly weaved out of the way, letting fly a fist at his midsection, a punch that landed heavily and knocked the wind out of him. He exhaled sharply and staggered towards the wall. He had just fallen against it before a sudden sharp pain exploded in his lower back, causing him to bend backward. He felt his hands go limp and couldn’t lift them to strike his assailant as a long arm whipped round his neck and pulled him further backward until he landed in a heap on the chair he’d just vacated moments earlier.

The arm around his neck wasn’t thick with muscles, but it was strong, and he noticed that two slim fingers had found his right jugular vein and were ready to clamp down on it. If that happened, he knew he would be dead within seconds. With bated breath, he sat docilely, not fighting back.

The person who had him in a choke-hold was Jerome, and the officer leaned into his ear and said silkily, “I warned you not to underestimate us, Dapo. Just because we were short of one man doesn’t guarantee you the leverage of a hostage you were aiming for. I have newsflash for you, buddy. Everyone present in this room is capable of handling scum like you.” And then, he snatched his hand away.

Dapo coughed and wheezed as he tried to catch his breath. Jerome had walked away from behind him and went to stand at the end of the table beside Edeeth. Her eyes were trained on him, and for a second, Dapo thought she might be smiling mockingly at him. It enraged him. The little slut! Just because she’d bested him… Reacting to his fountaining rage, he reached out his hands and aggressively pushed the papers in front of him to the floor. “You can all go to hell!” he yelled. “I’m not saying another word.” His eyes snapped angrily from one face to the other. “And just so you know, I’ll be out of here in no time.”

Jerome looked at Chrome and the latter nodded. Then, he sighed heavily, theatrically, to Dapo’s hearing. He sat down, opened the file yet again and brought out another sheet of paper. He held it in his hand and said, “I didn’t want to have to do this.” And he tossed the paper in front of Dapo. On it was written the flight details for a one-way trip to Uyo from Jos. There were two ticket numbers and they belonged to the penned names – Monica Scott and Anthony Scott.

Dapo squinted as he looked at the paper. His name wasn’t there. He slowly looked up at Jerome. There was pain in his eyes. He knew what the flight details meant, but Jerome took pleasure in spelling it out for him. “As you can see, your benefactor isn’t going to come to your rescue this time.”

“That’s impossible!” Dapo blurted out.

“You can read, can’t you?” Jerome taunted. “It’s all there in the fine print. Once we let him leave the station, he’s all set travel back to Uyo with his daughter, and believe me when I say that he is never coming back here.”

Dapo was distraught. The muscles of his face worked as he battled a riot of emotions inside him. He blinked hard, and his turmoil was evident to the officers watching him. He finally looked at Chrome and said hoarsely, “What do you people want from me?”

“For starters,” Jerome said, forcing Dapo to refocus his attention on him, “we want you to tell us where you were two nights ago.” Jerome grabbed a small digital voice recorder, which had been on the table all the while, and turned it on.

Dapo gritted his teeth, expelled his breath hard and said, “Alright, I’ll tell you everything.”

***

It had been about two hours since the gunshot incident within the police station had been brought under control. Anthony Scott sat in the interrogation room 1 with Monica. They were flanked by the two uniformed officers who had been instructed to watch them. Anthony glanced at both officers with growing impatience. Just when he was considering forcefully leaving the room, his daughter in tow, Chrome walked in. He was followed by Edeeth and Jerome. The commissioner got to his feet, his ire and impatience etched in every line of his form.

“My friend, what do you mean by keeping us here all this time?” he barked. “Don’t you know I have places to be and things to do?”

Chrome gave him a slight smile and said, “My apologies, sir. The delay couldn’t be helped.” He motioned to Anthony to return to his seat and the latter grudgingly did. Chrome continued, “I’m sure you are aware that it was your driver that was behind the shootings that took place a few hours ago.”

“Yes, I know,” the other man said in a harsh tone. “But that’s his problem. Whatever made him commit such a despicable act is well beyond me.”

“Well, it turns out that he went on the offensive when he noticed that our men were about to arrest him.”

“Arrest him? For what?” He sounded genuinely surprised.

“Our investigations did reveal that there were three individuals present at the scene of the crime the night Jackson died. One of them being Jackson himself, the other your daughter and a third person was revealed to us, through DNA evidence, to be your driver. Your daughter’s statement also confirms this.”

“My daughter’s what?!”

“Oh? Aren’t you aware that your daughter has given her account of what happened that night?” Chrome asked as though he was surprised.

“No, I am not!” Anthony spat, whirling around to stab angry eyes at Monica.

She stared coolly back at him. “I told them everything I knew about that night, dad. I didn’t see why I should hold anything back. I loved Jackson, and I want to see his killer apprehended.”

Anthony’s countenance changed as he said in a pleading voice, “I told you not to say anything.” When Monica turned her face resolutely away from him, he turned to Chrome and asked in a slightly tremulous tone, “So what happens to my daughter now?”

“Oh, nothing, sir. She is free to go. We got a confession from Dapo which exonerates her from the crime.”

Anthony beamed a relieved smile, and he turned to Monica, “Did you hear that, honey? You are free to go!” Monica was staring from Chrome to Edeeth as he put an arm around her shoulders. He said to the officers in a cheery tone, “Thank you, officers. You have done a splendid job.” He stood, and Monica got up to.

“Not so fast, sir,” Chrome interjected.

The Scotts froze. An uncertain look gusted over Anthony’s face before he said blandly, “I and my daughter have a plane to catch, officer. We have already missed the charity event we were scheduled to attend, thanks to you. If you have any documents that need to be signed, you can send them down to my office in Uyo and I’ll be more than glad to attend to them.”

Chrome shook his head. “You have nothing to sign, sir. You just can’t go anywhere right now.”

Just then, Walter walked into the room bearing a portable projector and his knapsack slung over his shoulder.

Anthony shot Chrome an incredulous look as he snapped, “What do you mean I can’t go anywhere? Why the hell won’t I be going anywhere?”

Chrome walked up to the chief and stood just a foot away from him before replying, “Because we have reason to believe that you, Chief Anthony Ememesi Scott,” – he dropped a heavy stress on the second name – “murdered Jackson Essien.”

January 29, 2013 | Categories: Uncategorized | 8 Comments

C.S.I: 9JA (The Jack And Jill Story: Episode 19)

After the third gunshot, Edeeth took Monica to the last stall in the lavatory and told her to get in and stay low. With her weapon drawn, she cautiously made her way towards the door of the restroom. She slowly pushed the door open and was immediately greeted by the sight of pandemonium. Officers, both uniformed and plain-clothed, were running back and forth the corridors in panic. Edeeth tried to follow the events unfolding in front of her, but the confusion was too much for her senses. She saw a few policemen been carried off towards the emergency first aid room; one had been shot on the leg while another sustained two gunshot wounds to the arm and shoulder. She saw a uniformed policewoman careening in her direction, snatched her am before she go run past and asked what was going on.

“Shots fired within the premises, ma’am,” the policewoman said, trying to catch her breath.

“Who fired the shots – one of our own?”

“No – an unknown gunman, driving a black Benz jeep” – she stopped for air – “started shooting away at our guys. He broke through the gates before the spike traps could be deployed.”

“He got away?!”

“I don’t know – two senior officers were in close pursuit and two units have been dispatched as backup just before I came in now.”

Another bleeding officer was hurriedly carried past the dialoguing duo towards the emergency room. The two women watched as the man on the stretcher moaned in agony. He had been shot on the buttocks. The policewoman refocused on Edeeth and continued, “The senior officers in pursuit are Sergeant-Major Lanre and a member of your team.”

“Walter!” Edeeth heard herself say out loud as she looked towards the exit of the building. She quickly turned back towards the lavatory and kicked open the door. She yelled for Monica to come out, and when she did, Edeeth spoke to the policewoman, “Take her to the interrogation room and stay with her.” The policewoman nodded and Edeeth looked at Monica, held her hand and said, “You stay put in there, I’ll be right back…ok?” Monica nodded and the policewoman, holding Monica by the arm, led her towards the interrogation room. Edeeth started running towards the exit. All that was on her mind was Walter’s safety.

***

When Chrome heard the first gunshot, his instincts led him to do the first thing that came to his mind as a police officer – protect all the civilians. He pulled his gun out of its holster and ran back into the interrogation room. The commissioner, though alarmed by what had just occurred, was calm and composed as Chrome instructed him to stay put until he found out what was happening. More gunshots resounded.

“What the hell is going?!” the commissioner burst out.

“I don’t know. You wait here while I go find out.” Chrome started for the door.

“What about my daughter – where’s she?!” Anthony barked at him.

“Your daughter should be safe where she is,” Chrome replied as he thought of how efficient Edeeth was in situations like this.

Chrome had started out the door when Anthony hesitantly asked, “Are…are you going to leave me here alone?”

Chrome fought the irritation building up inside; he grimaced and then slowly turned towards commissioner. “I’ll get an officer to watch the door. You just stay put!” And he eventually left the room and ran in the direction where the gunshots came from.

The car Walter and Lanre were in had just darted past the gates when Chrome ran out through the exit. He was surprised at the pandemonium that greeted him outside. There were people, men and women, some in police uniforms and some in plain clothes, crying out in pain from gunshot wounds. He took a quick glance around and found a uniform he knew. Grabbing the man by the hand, Chrome pulled him to the side and asked what had happened. After the man was done recapping the event for him, Chrome had to stifle the urge to go after them; his priorities lay here.

He suddenly yelled out to the confused crowd of policemen. “Alright, listen up, everybody!” The attention on him was slow in coming but it was absolute when it did. He continued, “Let’s get the injured to the emergency room for immediate treatment of their wounds!” Immediately his orders were carried out by the officers as they all helped each of their wounded comrades unto stretchers and other means to transport them to the emergency room. Chrome was grateful in his heart that the revamping of the police force saw the establishment of emergency first aid units which could handle anything from minor bruises to gunshot wounds, before the cases were referred to the bigger hospitals. If it wasn’t for such reforms, he wondered what would have become of these injured officers. He then turned his attention to the policeman in front of him and said, “Get to the control room, tell them to track all mobile C.S.I. vehicles and deploy two units after the one nearest to this place…ok?”

“Ok, sir.”

“One more thing, after you deliver my directive to the control room, I want you to go by the interrogation room and stand guard there. Got it?”

“Yes sir!” The policeman hastened in the direction of the control room.

Chrome turned his gaze towards the gates. It had been more than a minute since Walter and Lanre went after Dapo Ajayi. “Be sure to get this guy, Wally,” Chrome said to himself as he stood and watched the gate, waiting for the backups to be deployed. He took a deep breath and murmured, “I’m counting on you.”

***

Jerome was on his way back from the township of Jos when he noticed a gathering of police officers around an uncompleted building which was a few yards away from the H.Q. He wasn’t ready to eat the food being served at the cafeteria inside the police building so in his search for a decent fast-food joint, he’d ended up in the main town. He slowed down his car when he got close to the uncompleted building and was quick to recognize the man being pushed into a waiting police van to be the driver of Anthony Scott. He also spotted Walter and Lanre walking out of the building. Walter’s clothes looked rumpled and dirty, and the arm of his shirt was stained red. Jerome knew better than to stop to ask questions. He drove off to the police building and as soon as he drove into the compound, he spied Chrome and Edeeth waiting at the entrance to the building. That was when it dawned on Jerome that something big had just happened. And he had missed it.

He pulled up into the car park and got out, his eyes taking in the aftermath of the chaos. There were broken glass from shattered windscreens and blood stains which hadn’t been cleaned up yet. As he approached the station’s entrance, he overheard Edeeth talking to Chrome.

“…guy is pretty dangerous.”

“Yes, but I’m sure Walter can handle himself,” Chrome said.

Jerome saw Edeeth hunch her shoulders in that way she had when she was trying to physically stifle her embarrassment. “Yea, of course, he can,” she said with forced offhandedness.

“Besides, he has Lanre with him, and backup heading out there.”

“He’s fine, guys,” Jerome called out as he walked up beside them. Both of them turned questioning looks to him. He continued, “I saw our guys bundling the commissioner’s driver into one of the police vans. He seemed knocked out.”

“And Walter – what about him?” Edeeth asked, her voice a little strained.

“Fine. I saw him looking a little roughed up but fine, together with Lanre.”

There was an audible exhalation – of relief, Jerome supposed – from Edeeth. Chrome was going to say something when a police van swept into the compound through the gate. It was closely followed by the squad cars that went as backup, and finally Walter’s car. When the vehicles pulled up to the entrance, the policemen alighted and a couple opened the van and pulled out the handcuffed Dapo; he had regained consciousness and stared at his captors with a snarling expression on his face. As they led him past Chrome, the CSI chief locked eyes with the driver. The slight sinister smile on the man’s face wasn’t enough to faze the officer.

“Take him to the second interrogation room. I’ll be right behind,” Chrome said to the officers escorting Dapo, and he was led into the building.

Meanwhile, Edeeth had hurried forward to meet Walter as he alighted from his car. She suddenly stopped in her tracks when she realized that her intention had been to hug him, so intense was the relief she felt at seeing him. Feeling a flush of discomfiture at the unfamiliar emotion, she continued towards the car, her steps less hurried, watching as Lanre patted Walter on the back and walked away.

“I thought you hated that guy,” she said jocularly when she faced Walter.

“I still do,” Walter replied, smiling. “But for now, we’ve decided to hate our perp first and foremost. After this case is over, then the world can go back to the way it used to be.”

Edeeth chuckled. “You look terrible,” she said as her eyes took in the blood stains on his disheveled form.

“Did you see the other guy?”

“I did. He looked pretty banged up too.”

“All part of a day’s job, babe.”

“My superhero,” Edeeth said with a theatrical gush and an exaggerated batting of her eyelids.

They both shared a laugh and moved together to the entrance where the other two members of their team still stood. “Hello, chief,” Walter greeted. “’Sup, Jay.”

“Exciting stuff you’ve just been through, huh?” Jerome said with a smirk.

“You bet. Plus I’ve got results from my little trip to the airport.”

“Yea, me too,” Jerome interjected, suddenly remembering. He turned his face to Chrome. “The email, I printed it out. It makes for very interesting reading. Let me go get it.” He was about to take a step into the building when his phone rang. He brought it out of his pocket and Debora’s phone ID displayed on the screen. He received the call as he walked into the building.

The others followed, approaching the interrogation rooms in time to see Anthony tongue-lashing Dapo as he was led past the doorway of the interrogation room where he stood. “How could you?” the commissioner was yelling, his face tightened with the fury he felt. “You irresponsible son-of-a-bitch! How could you –!”

The expression on Dapo’s face was a mixture of surprise and mutinous anger. Chrome turned to face his two subordinates. “Walter, get yourself checked out and change out of these clothes. Edeeth, make sure that he does, okay?” The duo nodded and started to walk away before Chrome added, “Let’s meet back in the interrogation room-2 in 30 minutes.”

January 28, 2013 | Categories: Uncategorized | 2 Comments

C.S.I: 9JA (the Jack And Jill Story: Episode 18)

Monica threw up some more into the toilet bowl. She half-sat hunched over the bowl, the retching motions of her body gradually receding. Her face was still wet from the tears she’d been shedding, and her mind was suffused with the persistent images of Jackson’s dead body in the photo she’d looked at earlier in the interrogation room. She hit the flush button on the W.C and stood up. All the while, Edeeth stood just outside the toilet stall. She watched as Monica came out and washed her face on the wash-bowl at one end of the room. Edeeth walked over to where Monica was and handed her a handkerchief. Monica hesitated, then feeling warmed by the smile on Edeeth’s face, she collected the piece of cloth and wiped her face with it.

“I’m sorry for being so hard on you back there,” Edeeth said.

Monica stood straight and looked at the officer. She took a deep breath before answering, “It’s alright, officer. I can understand why you did that. With all the evidence pointing towards me, who wouldn’t think I did it?” She took a step back from the wash bowl, before continuing, “I didn’t kill Jackson.” Her eyes were fixed resolutely on Edeeth. “I couldn’t have…I would never hurt…the father of my unborn.” She placed a hand on her middle as she said this.

Edeeth arched a brow. The news didn’t come as a total surprise to her. While she watched Monica throw up into the toilet, the thought had crossed her mind that the woman was going through morning sickness. “You’re pregnant.”

It wasn’t a question, but Monica answered nonetheless, looking down at her flat stomach, “Yes. Yes, I am. I’m pregnant with Jackson’s child.” The tears that had stopped momentarily saw their opportunity to recommence flowing down her cheeks.

Edeeth remained silent. She sensed the woman needed to say some things, empty herself of some issues.

Monica sniffed as she tried to regain her composure. She sighed and said, “I was at the hill top last night with Jackson. You see, we always went there for romantic walks and sometimes we’d just sit there and share a few drinks. He was a wonderful man, so loving and caring. I loved him – and still love him – deeply.”

“Tell me what happened last night,” Edeeth probed.

“Last night, he called me over and said we were going to the hills for a stroll and a few drinks – our usual.”

“What kind of drinks?”

“Lager. But we never drink more than we can handle. Just a bottle or two. Last night, the stroll was beautiful as usual. We were alone and felt like we owned the world from up there. The sky was clear and the stars shone brightly.” She swallowed hard. “After our first drink, we held each other and danced to music only the both of us could hear. It was so romantic.” She wrapped her arms around her body in recollection. “We kissed, and then he got on his knees” – a nostalgic smile fleeted over her lips at this juncture – “I was so surprised. I never expected what he was about to do. He brought out a little box from his pocket and asked me to marry him…I said yes.” Her eyes welled up again, but the tears remained suspended, turning her eyes into glassy orbs. “We hugged and kissed again, and I was about to tell him about my pregnancy when out of nowhere…” She stopped.

Edeeth stiffened, knowing she had reached the part of the story she was interested in. She moved toward Monica and said in a softly-urging voice, “What happened out of nowhere, Monica?”

The other woman remained silent. Fear was naked on her face.

“Talk to me, Monica. Have no fear. Talk to me, and I can guarantee you’ll be safe from whatever you’re afraid of.” She tried to catch Monica’s gaze, to assure her with a calming look.

But Monica would not meet her eyes. She looked away, her lower lip trembling.

“What happened out of nowhere, Monica?”

She inhaled deeply, lowered her head and said, “Out of nowhere…a masked man came and punched Jackson on the face very hard.” She winced as if it she’d just been punched at that moment. “They began to struggle and I screamed for help. There was no one else in sight and before I knew what was going on, the masked man had subdued Jackson. I was so scared – so scared…and I was angry too. I was just” – her brow contracted and her lips tightened – “angry. I pounced on the man and scratched and kicked at him. But he was huge and knocked me away very easily.” Monica wrapped her arms tighter around herself. “He…he was trying to strangle Jackson. I went back to fight him off again – this time I scratched at his face. I must have hurt him because he cursed angrily as I pulled on his mask. That was when my nail broke. The man got off Jackson and faced me. There was something sinisterly familiar with his eyes but I was too scared to think about it. Jackson told me to run…” Her voice broke. “And I did.” She put her head down and began to sob softly again. “My man told me run and I abandoned him. I ran all the way back to my car and drove home. I called my dad when I got home and told him all that happened.”

“You called your dad,” Edeeth echoed, “who lives hundreds of miles away?”

“Yes, I called him. I didn’t know what else to do.” Monica lifted her tear-soaked face to Edeeth.

“You could have called the police.”

“I don’t know – I was scared…” She looked helplessly lost as she tearfully protested, but Edeeth couldn’t help the cool detachment she felt.

She asked, “So what did your father say when you called him?”

“He didn’t answer when I called. But he called me back some minutes later.”

“How many minutes later would you say?”

“I don’t know – about ten?”

“A full ten minutes after he missed your call that late in the night?”

“Yes. It may even be longer…I can’t really remember. What does it matter?”

Edeeth shrugged. “Go on, what then happened?”

“When daddy called me back, he sounded worried and asked me if I had called the police and I told him no. He then instructed me not to do anything, that he was going to be in the state by morning.”

“Morning.” Edeeth arched a brow. “Not the same night?”

“No,” Monica replied, perplexed by the officer’s questioning. “He told me he would be coming in the morning after, that he had a prior engagement – the charity golf game.”

“You mean you are not aware of your father’s entrance into the state two nights ago?”

“Two nights ago?”

“Yes, the same night Jackson was killed.”

“No….no, I’m not aware of it. He told me he was in Uyo.”

“I see. Well, thank you for telling me this, Monica. You have really helped in this case, more than you know.”

The other woman tried to smile, but the smile refused to remain anchored on her face. “You have to find who killed Jackson. You have to…”

Edeeth was about to say something reassuring when the gunshot shattered the quietude in the restroom.

***

The bullet grazed Walter’s right arm as he skillfully rolled with its trajectory and fell to the ground, taking Lanre with him. Dapo followed their fall with his hand and took aim again. Before he fired, the glass on the window beside him suddenly shattered into pieces. He whirled about in time to catch sight of the other uniformed policeman firing at him. He slammed the door shut and ignited the car with a loud vroom. The two police officers who had fallen before him were now getting up. He swerved towards them in a bid to crush them under the tires of the car. They jumped out of the way as the car screeched towards them, and Lanre expertly drew out his sidearm and opened fire on the tires of the jeep. Sparks flew, but the car did not stop.

“What the hell?” Walter looked at Lanre as they stood. “Good aim,” he said mockingly.

Lanre replied, “I wasn’t aiming at the rubber.”

They watched for a moment as the Jeep zoomed erratically towards the gates. Dapo kept on shooting wildly at policemen who tried to get in his way.

“Come on,” Lanre said to Walter suddenly. “We can still catch him!”

They both ran to Walter’s car and got in. Walter turned on the ignition and immediately put his entire weight on the accelerator as soon as he put the auto-gear on drive. Pulling out of the parking lot, the officers saw that the jeep had made it past the gates, even under heavy gunfire – thanks to the bullet-proof shielding on the car – and just before the security manning the gates could engage the spike traps. Walter swore under his breath as he stepped on the pedal. He looked at his arm for a second. The bullet had just grazed it, and the injury didn’t need any immediate medical attention.

“Thanks for saving my life back there,” Lanre suddenly broke the silence.

Walter looked at him briefly and then turned back at the road. “You owe me one.”

They went through the gates and got onto the freeway, just in time to see the jeep suddenly skid off the road just a few meters ahead of them. It came to a halt just outside an uncompleted building and its occupant jumped out and made for the building. “What the hell just happened?” Walter asked.

Lanre smiled and said, “I told you I wasn’t aiming for the rubber.” His aim had been to damage the car with the three shots he’d fired. Two bullets bust up the brake pads and the third damaged the rear axle.

The officers parked just a foot away from the jeep. They got out, guns drawn, and walked slowly towards the building. Walter looked back at the station. Backup would arrive in a matter of minutes, but this perp was no ordinary bad guy. From the way he drew out his gun earlier, Walter knew he was well trained and very dangerous. He signaled to Lanre, and the latter circled to the other side of the building. They were going to try to flush him out from both sides. The building was meant to be a four storey shopping complex, which meant that there were plenty of places for him to hide. Walter climbed up the first storey as quietly as he could. Lanre had disappeared behind the building some seconds ago, so Walter knew he had to be careful since it could be Lanre behind any wall. He looked around the first floor and found nothing. He made his way through one of the uncompleted stairways, up to the second floor. He looked at the ground and saw footprints. The only problem was, he didn’t know who it belonged to and where they led to. He followed them, cautiously. At that moment, he wondered where the backup was and, for a split second, he felt his focus on his search slip with the distracting thought.

In that instant, Dapo sprung to action out of nowhere. He lunged at Walter with a plank he had picked up from a pile in one of the rooms he’d been hiding in and knocked the officer’s gun out of his hand. Walter’s hand stung from the strike and he jumped back. He wondered for a fleeting second where Dapo’s gun was, but the man didn’t give him time to dwell on the thought much as he lashed out at him again with the plank. Walter weaved and skillfully stepped into Dapo’s circle of defense, his elbow lashing out at the big man’s jaw. This disorientated Dapo for a second and Walter capitalized on this by throwing a combination of jabs into Dapo’s face and sides. But Dapo was thickset and quickly regained himself; he caught one of Walter’s punches as it flew towards his face, drawing the police officer towards him and ending Walter’s forward movement with an elbow to the side of his head. Pain exploded inside Walter’s head and he fell to the ground. They tussled for a while until they landed simultaneous blows to their jaws, throwing them backwards to the ground on opposite sides of the room. Both men were getting weakened by their little skirmish, their chests heaving with the strength of their respiration.

Dapo spied Walter’s gun at a corner where it had fallen to and staggered towards it. Walter saw what he was up to and tried to get up quickly to stop him, but he was late. Dapo got the gun first, snatched it up and swung his arm around to point the barrel at the police officer. He was about to say something smart before pulling the trigger, but never got the chance to say it. At that moment, Lanre lunged at him from a blind spot, tackling him and ramming him into a nearby wall. Dapo’s head cracked against the wall, and he lost consciousness at once, sliding to the floor in a heap, Lanre on top of him. Lanre got to his feet and promptly cuffed the unconscious criminal. He walked over to where Walter was. He sat on the floor and had his back to a wall, his breathing heavy.

Lanre stretched out a hand to Walter and said, “Now we’re even.”

Walter smiled and shook his head. He took Lanre’s outstretched hand and the man swung him to his feet. He glanced at the supine Dapo and said, “He sure was tough.”

Lanre nodded as he bent down and picked up Walter’s gun. He wondered idly why it hadn’t gone off when he tackled Dapo; after all, the man had been about to pull the trigger. “Holy cow!” he exclaimed in surprise. “You still had the safety on?” With the safety on, it wouldn’t have mattered if Dapo squeezed the trigger. The gun would never have fired. That would have given Walter enough time to either counterattack or get out of Dapo’s firing trajectory. Lanre realized this as he handed Walter his gun. “Man, whatever would make you leave the safety on?”

Walter replaced the gun inside the holster on his hip. He looked Lanre with a sardonic smile on his face. “I didn’t want to shoot you mistakenly.”

Lanre laughed and both men began dragging Dapo to his feet. Just then, a few uniformed police officers rushed into the run and pointed their weapons at the men. Now they arrive, Walter thought to himself.  The junior officers, realizing their irrelevance, promptly put down their weapons and took custody of Dapo. He was led to a waiting squad car, while Walter and Lanre entered Walter’s car and they took the very short drive back to the Station house.

January 25, 2013 | Categories: Uncategorized | 4 Comments

C.S.I: 9JA (The Jack And Jill Story: Episode 17)

The room Kelechi showed Walter and Chude into wasn’t large but it was spacious. There were two monitors on a large desk which served as the viewing screens for the CCTV cameras situated in the reception hall and just outside near the parking-lot. There was a third monitor which connects to the only computer in the room and only one member of his staff was given the task of monitoring the events that the screens displayed. Kelechi explained that he needed the cameras to keep track of customers as they entered the building and as they left with a rented car. There had been cases in which customers didn’t return the cars and denied ever having any involvements with the rental service. The security footages came in handy to counter their claims. Kelechi gestured to the other man present in the room and the man excused his boss and his guests.

“So, let’s get down to it, shall we?” Kelechi said after his lengthy explanation and bent over the keyboard of the computer and punched in some keys. The image on the CCTV screen flickered and changed from its display of the reception at the moment to the reception in another time. Two nights ago. As the footage played, Walter watched a man clad in a jacket and face-cap walk up to the receptionist and make some enquires. The images weren’t colored and had no sound. It was like watching a Charlie Chaplin movie, but with better resolution.

“Yes, that’s the man we saw,” Chude interjected, his words directed at Walter. “Your colleagues identified him as a person of interest to your case.”

“Is that so?” Walter said and looked closely at the image on the screen. “Hmm, it really is him.”

The image of Anthony Scott gestured to the receptionist and the latter typed something on the computer in front of her. She then moved out of view from the camera and later returned with a key which she handed to the man waiting. Walter looked a question at Kelechi and the man promptly answered, “He rented a Jeep and paid in full. The car is right outside. It was returned to us by some man yesterday afternoon…not the same person on the screen.”

Walter asked, “Can you show me who returned it?”

“The man never came inside. He just drove the car into the parking lot and dropped the keys on the hood. My security staff didn’t even notice when the man left, but our cameras located outside did get an image of him as he walked away from the parking lot.” Kelechi tapped some keys again on the keyboard and this time the second monitor changed the image displayed. He froze it as it got to the part he had been talking about.

Walter leaned forward to get a better look and then, without warning, he burst out into laughter. The other men were evidently startled by his mirth. Noticing that, he said, “I’m sorry about that.”

“Do you know him?” Chude asked.

“You could say that.” Walter looked at the screen again and smiled. The frozen image of the man who had dropped off the car Chief Scott rented was the same trigger-happy soldier whose acquaintance Walter had made the day before at the Scott’s residence. He was remembering their brief altercation yesterday and the thought had brought about his unexpected amusement. He turned away from the screen. It was clear to him that the man in question was truly the commissioner. Now all he needed to do was find out where he went after renting the car. “Kelechi, how do you get to find cars that clients refuse to return?” he asked.

“All our vehicles are fitted with GPS tracking systems.”

“GPS? That’s great!”

Kelechi opened a folder on the computer screen and selected a particular file. He clicked on it and it opened up on the screen to reveal a log for all the cars rented, by whom they were rented and what time the vehicle was given out. He pulled the record for the name ‘Ememesi Scott’ and got the tracking code for the vehicle. He closed the log window and opened that of the GPS tracking program on the computer. By entering the tracking code, the screen turned up the satellite display of all the places the vehicle went to from the moment it was rented till it was returned. Walter brought out a small note pad from his back pocket and picked a pen from the table. He traced the first three places the car went to and wrote down the names of the places.

“Interesting,” he muttered as he looked at the screen again. He – and every member of the C.S.I team – was versed in the art of map-reading, and he could easily make a mental 3D image of the topography. He took some more notes and then straightened up. He looked at Kelechi as he said, “Thanks for this info, but I’ll need one more favor.”

“Whatever you need.”

“I need to take a picture of the tires of the jeep.”

“That won’t be a problem. If you’ll just follow me outside…” And moments later, all three men were on their way to the parking lot.

***

The sound of her phone ringing reached Stacey’s ears from inside her bag. She looked up from the computer screen and leaned across the table for the bag. When she picked out her phone and saw that it was Manny calling, she swore under her breath. She suddenly realized that she hadn’t shown up at the autopsy lab all morning to punch in. Taking a deep breath, as though fortifying herself for whatever berating she was going to get from her boss, she picked the call.

“Stacey!” Manny’s voice wasn’t harsh, but the tone was cold.

“Yes, sir?” she answered tentatively.

“It’s nearly 7. 30 and you still haven’t shown up today. Is there any problem?” Mild concern coloured the sternness of his voice.

“I’m fine, sir. I’m already in the building. But I’ve been in the forensics lab.”

“Forensics? Doing what there?”

“I’m helping out…er…Chief Chrome to do some research on a potential suspect.” She stuttered through her reply, feeling flushed with contrition, as though she had been nabbed doing something wrong.

“Oh – Chrome.” Manny’s tone was different now. Stacey could have sworn she heard him laugh. He continued, “Ok then, be sure to report back here as soon as you are done. We also have our own jobs to do, you know.”

“Ok, sir.” When the call was disconnected, she dropped her phone on the table, not knowing whether to be amused or upset at whatever Manny had just insinuated with his sudden change in attitude on the phone. Did he think she was having an affair with the Chief Inspector? If so, why would he even think that? Chrome had a girlfriend for heavenssakes! And she was definitely not interested in him, a man who was already taken, she told herself firmly. Most definitely not. She was lost in thought until the buzz from the computer screen in front of her brought her back to reality. She checked and saw that the search she was running had made a hit. She pushed a key and the documents began printing.

***

Jerome had finished printing the pictures and other documents from the email and was waiting for Chrome to return so he could present them to him. He suddenly felt a growl in his stomach.

“Oh boy, not now,” he said to himself. He had forgotten about his hunger pangs of last night after he had his much needed rest. “I might as well satisfy you too.”

He dropped the documents on Chrome’s desk, grabbed his jacket from the back of his seat and shrugged into it. He looked at the time. It was 7:30am. I wonder if any fast-food joint would be open at this time, he wondered as he made his way towards the exit. He needed to eat, and he needed to do it fast.

***

Walter had dropped off Chude at the airport terminal before recomposing himself on his next course of action. He took a quick look at his writing pad and said softly the name of the place he wanted to go to next, “Hillside Hotel.”

Soon, he was out of the airport premises and speeding down the highway. The hotel was situated along the stretch of road which led from the airport towards the town. There were so many hotels located in this region, their business targeted at attracting the patronage of travelers coming from the airport. It didn’t take long before Walter found the one he was looking for. After parking his car outside the gate of the hotel and shouldering his knapsack inside which was his digital camera and some other on-the-go forensic kits, he walked in and went straight to the reception. The hotel wasn’t grand. In Walter’s opinion, it ranked more as a motel. He showed the receptionist his badge and asked for the manager who promptly came to attend to the officer after his attention was called upon.

“Officer, you are welcome to the Hillside Hotels,” he said grandly to Walter, as though he was welcoming the officer to the Sheraton. “How may I be of service?”

 “Sir, I’m conducting an investigation and would like you full cooperation.” Walter added some steel to his voice, just in case the manager was thinking otherwise.

“No problem, officer,” the manager said, his voice losing some of its flourish. “Whatever assistance you need, I’ll be happy to help.”

“You had a guest who came in here in a Pajero jeep two nights ago,” Walter said, his gaze shifting from the manager to the receptionist and back to the manager. “I want to see the room he was in.”

“Em…sir…we get a lot of guests here at the Hillside Hotel,” the manager began.

I’m sure you do, Walter thought snidely.

“And on this particular night, you would have to be more specific for us to know who you’re talking about,” the manager finished a tad patronizingly.

The tone of his voice galled Walter. “Listen,” he snapped, “I noticed there are other hotels around, finer hotels than this dump, many of which have a few cars parked within their premises. And I’m willing to bet they have a lot more patrons than you have. It’s most likely that you haven’t had any more than eight or nine people patronize you in the past two days. The man I seek most likely didn’t register with his real name so I’m just going to ask you to do the mathematics yourselves.”

Properly cowed by the officer’s sudden antagonism, the manager hurried over to the lobby desk, slightly pushing the receptionist aside in his haste to retrieve the register. He flicked the tattered thick-covered notebook. “Yes officer – er – you said two nights ago?”

Walter nodded in affirmation.

The man flipped through the register and came to rest at a certain page. “Yes, this is the last person to check in.” He pointed at a name on the page. Walter leaned forward and looked at it. It read ‘John Doe’. Walter choked on the laugher that suddenly worked its way up his throat.

When he was sure he could talk, he said, “Someone registered with the name ‘John Doe’ and you didn’t think it was a false name?”

The manager, obviously embarrassed by the realization, looked accusingly at the receptionist.

“Em…” the receptionist started, shifting uncomfortably on her feet. “He was an elderly man. He said he was from Liberia.”

Walter worked hard at straightening his features against the assault of his amusement. He looked at the manager and said, “Please take me to the room he occupied.”

The manager grabbed a key which was marked ‘15’ from inside a shelf behind the receptionist and walked up a flight of stairs ahead of the officer. Once at the door, he opened it and said, “I doubt you’ll find anything. The cleaning lady has already been here today.”

Walter stepped in with one thought in mind. “Let’s just hope she’s not efficient.” He scanned the room slowly from left to right, trying his best not to miss a thing. After a few moments of poking around with nothing but the heavy breathing of the manager breaking the silence, he was about to give up on discovering anything. Then, his gaze fell on the wall behind the door. “Bingo!” he said out loud, startling the manager. “Seems the cleaning lady wasn’t so thorough after all,” he crowed at the other man as he put down his knapsack and got to work on what he saw.

***

Edeeth led the father and daughter duo to the interrogation room. The drive back to the station had been uneventful and quiet. The Scotts had followed the officers in their own car and at that moment, their driver was making his way to where he would park the car. Chrome watched as the jeep drove down towards the car park and had turned to enter inside the building when his phone rang. He checked the caller ID. It was the mystery caller again. He decided to ignore it this time. He had other more important things to take care of at the moment. He could feel it in his guts. They were on the verge of cracking this case. He confirmed from the station receptionist that Walter hadn’t returned from his assignment yet. He moved on, his mind filled with the hope that Stacey and Jerome would have something good for him.

When Edeeth opened the door to the interrogation room they had occupied yesterday, making way for the Scotts to pass into it, she noted the look of displeasure that was on Monica’s face. She must not be thrilled to be back here, Edeeth thought as she followed them to the seats surrounding the table. The three of them sat as Chrome entered the room. He leaned by the wall, tacitly giving Edeeth the floor. She didn’t waste time. “We have DNA evidence which puts you” – she pointed at Monica – “at the crime scene last night.” She paused to take out the documents from inside the file that was on the table and placed them in front of Monica. “Look at these.”

The papers were printed pictures of Jackson’s body at the crime scene and on the autopsy table. The moment Monica saw and recognized the photo on top, she gasped and shrank back into her seat.

“How dare you show these to her?!” Anthony snarled, his voice marinated with outrage. He rose huffily from his seat as Monica looked away from the photos.

Ignoring the man, Edeeth snapped in a louder voice, “Look at them! You claim you loved him, yet you turn away now.”

Anthony turned his fulminating look on Chrome and seethed, “What is the meaning of this – this rubbish tactic of psychologically harassing my daughter!?” When Chrome said nothing in response, the commissioner continued, “If you don’t put a stop to this nonsense at once, I will do everything in my power to make this department pay for this harassment!”

Chrome still appeared unmoved. Monica had started sobbing quietly. There was a few tense seconds of awkwardness, broken when Edeeth finally stood and walked over to Monica’s side. She took the woman’s hand and looked at her face, all the while aware of her father’s anger-stiffened presence close by. “Please, Monica,” she said almost imploringly, “please, come clean. Did you kill Jackson?”

“This is preposterous!” fumed Anthony. “I think we need a lawyer now.”

“Chief Scott –” Chrome began.

“Don’t you dare call my name, officer –”

“Did you kill him?” Edeeth was still focused on the woman before him.

“Do not answer that question, sweetheart!” Anthony roared.

Monica kept on crying.

“Did you!” Edeeth said, tugging at her hand lightly.

“Let go of my daughter this instant!” Anthony said as he took Monica’s other hand and pulled, as though to get her up the chair.

“Dad, wait…” Monica’s broken voice seemed to freeze the tenseness crescendoing in the room. She turned to Edeeth, blinked her eyes over the tears that were still trickling down and began forming an articulate answer. Suddenly, her face twitched, her throat worked and she clapped a hand over her mouth. “Where’s the bathroom please…” she mumbled behind her hand.

“I’ll take you there,” the other woman replied and stood from her seat, hurrying out of the interrogation room beside Monica who seemed very frantic in her mission to get to the bathroom. In their haste, the two women almost bumped into Stacey, who was coming down the hallway to meet Chrome.

“What was that about?” she said as she walked up to Chrome, who was standing in the doorway of the interrogation room. She spotted and recognized the figure of Anthony Scott pacing agitatedly about behind Chrome, in the room. She had some papers in her hand which she handed to him and said, “Here’s the info you wanted on the owner of the other DNA you found at the scene.” She had a glint in her eye as she spoke. Chrome looked down at the papers. Stacey continued talking as he read through it. “It turns out that the man called Dapo Ajayi used to be in the military. He was an army major who retired of his own volition about six years ago to work as a private security operative for some topnotch politician in Rivers State. He didn’t last long in the job and was arrested for molesting the politician’s daughter and sentenced to ten years in prison, but was mysteriously let out two years into his sentence.” She paused here because she saw that Chrome had gotten to the important part. She saw the man’s eyes widen, and she said a tad theatrically, “He now works for none other than the man fretting behind you – Chief Anthony Ememesi Scott.”

Chrome’s brows furrowed as he hissed, “He is the commissioner’s driver.” He looked up as if remembering something vital. “Of course – the scar on his face. I knew there was something about it that made my senses tingle.” He turned his head a bit around to glance at the commissioner. Anthony had stopped pacing and was now sitting on the chair he’d stood from earlier. As Chrome watched him, he wondered if he knew what his driver was capable of. To really know what was going on, he had to bring the driver in. But he knew the man was not going to come in so easily. Chrome needed muscle to handle this. The man was ex-military for Pete’s sake. He brought out his cell phone and dialed Walter’s number.

***

Walter was in a very good mood as he headed back to the station. His most recent discovery was undoubtedly going to help a lot in turning this case around. He was just driving in through the gates of the police premises when his phone rang. He saw it was Chrome calling and he immediately answered the call. “Hello, chief,” he said cheerfully.

“Hello, Wally, where are you?”

“Elvis has just entered the building, sir. You won’t believe what I’ve got for you.”

“That can wait,” Chrome interjected. “I need you to do something now.”

Walter was immediately alert to the tenseness in his superior’s voice. “What, sir?”

“Get some uniforms and apprehend the commissioner, Anthony Scott’s driver. His name is Dapo Ajayi, and the other DNA at the scene of the crime belongs to him.”

“He was there?”

“Yes. You need to arrest him and bring him in now. But you must be careful, he is a former army major and he would be a very dangerous man to deal with.”

“Where’s he now?”

“He drove the Scotts to the station. So he should be in the car park. You remember the vehicle he brought the commissioner to the station with yesterday, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do. Don’t worry, sir, I’ll get him.” Walter clicked off and drove towards the car park, slowing down when he got to where the Jeep belonging to the Scotts was parked. He passed the car and parked two parking rows behind. He then brought out his phone and called Sgt. Lanre.

“Hello, Lanre.”

“Hey Walter, do you miss me already?” The man’s tone was jeering.

“Guy, relax,” Walter intoned. “I need your help. It’s about to go down.”

“Where and when?” Lanre was instantly in professional mode.

“Car park, now. Black Benz jeep. Bring two of yours. Perp is considered dangerous.”

“Ok, on the way.”

Walter sat back in the car and watched the driver as he leaned casually back on the driver seat of the jeep, his door thrown open. He had taken note of the man’s hulking appearance the previous day, when he brought Anthony Scott to the station, and now, his eyes flickered over the man, realizing how disadvantaged he would be if he tried to take on the man by himself. Walter also noticed the faint outline of the scar that ran down one side of his face, highlighted by the morning sun.

Then he turned his face towards the entrance of the building. Lanre had just walked out, his stride firm and purposeful, flanked by two uniforms. He was waving his hand in a gesture that Walter understood to mean the plan was to circle the car park, the immediate area around where the jeep was parked. Walter got out of the car and proceeded towards the jeep. Dapo didn’t notice Walter coming, but it was obvious he had spotted Lanre, because as the sergeant got closer to the vehicle, the driver slowly leaned towards the glove compartment and opened it. Walter suddenly felt a stirring of unease as he watched the man’s unhurried movements. He spotted the black object that Dapo brought out of the glove compartment. He began to fumble with his holster as he turned and sped towards Lanre. Through the side of his eye, he saw the driver straighten and begin to lift his hand.

“Get down!” Walter yelled. “He’s got a gun!”

Dapo was briefly startled by the shout – he spared a few moments to notice Walter running towards his target – then he drew up the gun out and took aim. Walter lunged himself at Lanre at the same time Dapo fired.

January 22, 2013 | Categories: Uncategorized | 2 Comments

C.S.I: 9JA (The Jack And Jill Story: Episode 16)

Five minutes after the meeting was adjourned, Jerome was sitting behind Chrome’s desk and browsing through his email. He had found and opened the mail sent to him by the Inspector-in-charge of the Akwa-Ibom state police command – Inspector Nsikak was his name –, and his eyes skimmed over the digital print as he read: ‘To the C.S.I. Chief Inspector. Please find attached to this mail the items you required concerning the motor accident involving the Essien family. I have attached the preliminary reports made by the officers at the scene and also the pictures of the crashed vehicle. I have also gone out of my way to secure what I believe to be the picture of the original reason the car crashed. Also you will find attached the DNA test results made on a hair sample found on the scene which did not belong to either of the two victims. I hope these will help you in your current investigations.’

Jerome finished reading through and proceeded to scroll to the bottom of his mailbox to retrieve the attachments, when he stumbled across an additional message which read: ‘P.S. please exercise caution in your investigation. I have come to the realization that someone above my pay grade has gone out of his/her way to see to it that the investigation into the crash was buried. Whoever it is must be brought to justice and I believe you will have the capability to see to this. Thank you.’

Jerome leaned back on his seat. That last part of the message was ominous. He decided to print the attachments so he could show them to Chrome when he returned. 

***

Chrome pulled up the Toyota Corolla into the street where the Scotts resided. He expertly parked the car on the culvert in front of the gate guarding the Scott residence, effectively blocking the entrance to the premises. The officers where just stepping out of the car when the gates were suddenly flung open by the army personnel stationed there. Chrome led the way as the officers walked towards a parked jeep which seemed to be ready to leave the compound.

“This is private property,” one of the uniformed men said belligerently, his eyes snapping in Edeeth’s direction. He recognized her from the previous day, and from the scowl on his face, he wasn’t too happy to see her – and another partner – again today.

“I know, and I’m here on official police duty,” Chrome said coolly. His manner was unperturbed as he flicked out his badge for the men to see.

The army personnel wavered in their aggressive stance when they recognized the superior position clearly stamped on the identity card. Just then, one of the back doors of the jeep was flung open and Anthony lumbered out of the car. His brow had deepened in the beginnings of a glare. “Excuse me, officers, but what the hell do you both think you are doing here?”

Chrome waited until the man had come close to where they stood, his face planted on the commissioner with that glacial expression that Edeeth admired so much. Except when he focused the look on her – then she didn’t find it so admirable. “There’s no need to get hostile, sir –” he began.

“I’ll act in any manner I want, thank you very much,” Anthony spat. “Now, will you please state your business already? The sooner you do that, the sooner you can get off my property.” He divided his glare between the two officers.

Unruffled by the man’s antagonism, Chrome jerked his head at the car and said, almost conversationally, “I see you are all set to go out already.”

“Yes, we have a charity event to attend.”

“We? You and your daughter?”

“Yes,” Anthony bit out.

“I’m afraid Monica can’t go anywhere with you –”

“And why is that?” Anthony jutted his jaw at the other man.

“We are here to take her into custody.”

“What?!” the commissioner exclaimed. “On what grounds?!”

“We have overwhelming evidence which puts her at the scene of the crime making her a prime suspect.”

At that moment, the other back door opened and Monica got down from the car. She started walking over to the small gathering.

“Get back into the car, Monica!” her father snarled, when he heard her approaching footsteps. He whirled about to face her.

Ignoring him, she walked forward still. Her brows were furrowed in incomprehension. “What’s going on, daddy?” She came to stand before them. Her question was directed at her father, but her eyes flickered between Chrome and Edeeth.

Chrome noted how huge and doe-dark and beautiful the eyes were. She really is a good-looking woman, a part of his mind registered belatedly.

Anthony immediately held her close to him in a side embrace and said, “Don’t worry, my dear.” He turned his scowl back to the officers and said, “I would like to have a look at this so called evidence you have.”

“By all means, sir,” Chrome said.

Moments later, both cars moved out of the street and started for the station. As they drove down the road, Anthony glanced at Monica, who was visibly trembling, and said, “Don’t worry, honey. I won’t let them harm you.”

But the expression etched on his daughter’s face told him clearly how much she didn’t believe his words this time.

***

By the time Walter got to the airport terminal, Chude was waiting at the designated spot that they were meant to meet. He waved a hand at the official car which he recognized as Walter, not identifying him, almost drove past him. Walter slowed down and parked on the curb and Chude jogged up to meet with him. Walter wound the passenger glass down and Chude stuck his head in and greeted him.

“You must be Chude.”

“Indeed I am.”

“How sure are you I’m the one you are waiting for?” Walter asked with a cocked brow.

“Don’t worry, Officer Walter,” Chude said, stressing the name. “Officer Jerome gave me a good description of what you would be driving, what you would be wearing and how you looked. And I never forget the details that matter.” He was smiling at the end of his comment.

Why don’t you hand me your resume while you’re at it, Walter thought with wry amusement. After what Edeeth had said about the airport worker, he had a better appreciation of the man’s exuberance. “Alright then, hop in,” he said to Chude, who was already lifting the door handle. As he sat down, Walter asked, “Ok, what did you find out?”

“I was able meet with the owner of the Executive car rental service, and he confirmed renting out a Jeep to a man bearing the name Mr. Ememesi Scott.”

“Is that all?” When he nodded, Walter said, “I thought you said you had something to show us, hence our presence required at the airport.”

An abashed look suffused the other man’s face and weighted down his voice as he said, “My apologies, sir. I knew your team would want to question the man yourselves, and I wanted to be part of the team as that happened.”

Walter shook his head at the man’s cunning, and chuckled. “My, Chrome should hire you. Lord knows we need someone with your tendency for underhanded tactics.” The good-natured tone of his voice made Chude beam. He continued, “Anyway, don’t you have work to do today?”

“My shift doesn’t start until much later.”

“Ok then, let’s go over there to the car-rental place,” Walter said as he started the ignition. “Where is the place?”

“It’s down the road, make a left before the intersection that leads to the car park,” Chude replied and Walter shifted the gear. In a few minutes they were entering the parking-lot of the Executive Car-Rentals Services. Walter killed the engine when he found a good spot to park and they both alighted from the vehicle. The building housing the office of the business was a bungalow with only three rooms – the reception, which was quite large, and two adjacent rooms, one of which was the office of the owner of the business. Chude made enquiries from the receptionist and a moment later the owner of the rental service came out to meet them. Introductions were made – the owner’s name was Kelechisom Ajoku – and the men got right down to business.

“Thank you for helping us, Mr. Ajoku –” Walter began.

“Please, call me Kelechi,” the man, wispy in stature with gold-rimmed glasses settled over his beady eyes, said. “And it will be my pleasure to be of help to the Federal Police. So, from what my friend here” – he nodded at Chude – “tells me, you are looking for a man who rented one of my cars two nights ago.”

“We are not sure it’s the man we are looking for,” Walter interjected, “but it would go a long way in helping our investigation if he happens to be the one.”

Kelechi smiled and pointed to the ceiling just above the desk of the receptionist. “You see that?” Walter and Chude looked up in the direction he pointed as he continued, “That there is a CCTV camera. Customers don’t notice it and I use it to make sure I get the identities of people who rent my vehicles.”

Walter nodded and said, “That is very insightful of you. May I see the security footage from the night in question?”

As if waiting for the question to be asked, Kelechi motioned his guests towards the second door beside the door to his office and said, “Right this way please.” And they promptly disappeared behind the door, leaving only the receptionist to continue flicking through the pages of the magazine she was reading.

 

January 18, 2013 | Categories: Uncategorized | 1 Comment

January 17, 2013 | Categories: Uncategorized | Leave a comment

C.S.I: 9JA (The jack And Jill Story: Episode 15)

The sound of the message tone on Edeeth’s phone was enough to wake her up from her sleep. She stirred and stretched, blinking her way into wakefulness, before sitting up in her bed. The bed was comfortable, as comfortable as a hotel bed could get, and she rolled across the crisp sheets, in the early morning gloom pervading the room, to pick up her phone from the nightstand. The text was from Chrome.

She read: War Room. 2 hours. Urgent.

Chrome was fond of sending such cryptic messages to the members of his team. Edeeth nodded to herself in understanding and took a deep breath. She let it out with a yawn. She still felt a little sleepy, and her hand knocked some knickknacks on the nightstand about as she searched for her wristwatch. She squinted blearily at its luminous screen. The time was 4:30am.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” she muttered out loud. She grumbled about the time being so early, but she knew she had to start getting ready to head back to the FPF HQ. Then it occurred to her that she didn’t even know if Walter was still at the hospital or not. She got off the bed and went straight to the bathroom. Answering the call of nature came first before anyone else, she thought as she closed the bathroom door behind her.

***

Jerome was already awake when he received the text message from Chrome. He had been reading another text message which he had gotten while he slept. It was a text message from the Inspector-in-charge of the Akwa-Ibom State police command. It informed him that the information he requested from the command concerning the accident involving the Essiens had been sent to his email address. He deleted the message immediately after reading it, something he did when it came to security issues and went on to read Chrome’s. Then, he got out of bed and went to the wardrobe in his hotel room. He was always keen on his attire and loved looking smart for work at anytime of the day. It was his routine to pick out his clothes before even brushing his teeth. When he made up his mind on what to wear, he took off the clothes he’d slept in, made his way to the bathroom and switched on the shower. He was about to close the door behind him when the message tone of his phone sounded again. He peered outside the bathroom door, as if there would be anyone around to see him walk out of the bathroom naked. He tiptoed over to his phone and checked the new message. It was from Chrome. He was asking that Jerome get some clean clothes from his room. Jerome smiled. He knew he was the only one Chrome would trust with such a domestic duty.

***

The sound of his own ringtone greatly annoyed Walter as it pulled him up from sleep. It wasn’t that he didn’t like it – after all he chose the song as his ringtone –, it was the fact that he hated having his sleep interrupted, especially when he was luxuriating in it. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, muttered a swearword, and lazily picked up the phone and checked the caller ID. It was Edeeth. He quickly sat up on the bed and answered, “Hey E.” he said. There was an underlying enthusiasm in his voice that was still groggy with sleep.

“Already up, bright and excited for the day, are we?”

He imagined her brow arching with mocking disbelief at her words and chuckled. “Oh no. As a matter of fact, I’m still in bed.”

“At the hotel?”

“Yes, at the hotel. Where else would you imagine me sleeping?” He deliberately made his words weighty with a double entendre.

Edeeth’s laughing voice came across the receiver. “Anything is possible with you men. I asked because I wanted to know if you decided to play nanny to the old man all night long.”

Walter gave a laugh of his own. “Nah. I came back late last night. But about my hospital duty, Sir Anderson told me a lot of interesting things that you need to hear–”

“Well, tell it all at the meeting,” Edeeth interrupted.

“Meeting? What meeting?”

“Check you messages, bob. Chrome sent one to all of us. You know his style.”

“Oh…ok, thanks. I’ll do so now.”

“See you out front in a few.”

“Ok.” She clicked off and Walter, without doing as he said he would, returned his phone to the nightstand. He needed some more sleep, he thought with a grumble. Subconsciously, he picked up his wristwatch on the table and looked at the time. “Good Lord!” he half screamed. “Is that the time?” He tossed the watch back on the table and dunked his head into his pillow a few times. Then he lifted the pillow and covered his head with it, and said in a muffled tone, “Thirty more minutes!”

***

Anthony knocked on the door of his daughter’s room before opening it. He expected to see her either balled up in one corner, her grief still evident in the light of the morning or sleeping soundly in her bed, since the time was still in the early hours. He never expected to see her moving about her room, stuffing her things into the valises that were open on her bed. However, he wasn’t as surprised as she was when she noticed him standing at the door. He wanted to ask a question, but it seemed he had thought about the scenario a little more before eventually speaking, “It seems you are aware of our departure already my dear.”

“Departure?”

“Yes, we are leaving Jos for good after the charity tournament.” He walked into the room. “Isn’t that why you are packing?”

Monica hesitated before answering in the affirmative. Her father came to stand beside her and took her hand in his. “Honey, by this time tomorrow, you will have a clean start. Don’t you worry about a thing, okay?” He kissed her hand and patted her head. Then he turned and started for the door; he turned around when he got there. “You weren’t planning on doing anything stupid, were you?” His eyes had narrowed on her face, and suspicion was suddenly sharp in his voice.

“No, daddy.” Monica’s eyes slid away from her father’s.

Apparently satisfied with her answer, he said, “Good girl.” Then he turned and left the room, closing the door behind him.

***

Chrome looked less like the composed, always well-put-together man he usually was by the time he was done compiling all the information he had gathered from the DNA analysis. He stretched himself in a bid to relieve his body of the ache he felt from sleeping on the laboratory stool. His eyes felt gritty, and he knew they’d be reddened from the strain. His neck ached and the muscles snapped as he rotated his head to ease the kinks. He yawned and was instantly repulsed by the breath he perceived from his own mouth.

“Ugh!” he said out loud, flapping a hand over his nose. “That stinks!” He laughed with some self deprecation and stood up.

Just then there was a knock on the door. He walked over to it and unlocked it. At the doorway stood Stacey, looking perky and energized for the day. Her smile was bright and her composure had some bounce to it. She was wearing a tan-coloured turtle-neck blouse tucked into a black wraparound skirt. “Good morning, sir,” she chirped.

“Good morning,” Chrome grunted. “You are just the person I wanted to see.” At her arched brows that revealed her surprise, he added, “I need your help.”

He walked back into the room and she followed, dropping her large handbag on one of the stools. “Well, sir, I’m here now. Whatever you need, I’ll do my best.”

“I need your help with two things.” He had reached the table and brought out a file. “First of all, I need you to run this name by the Federal mainframe. It’s a name that popped up as the owner of the second DNA that was found on the sample I picked up at the hill top.”

“There were two DNA?”

“Yes, there were. I already have the identity of the first one, but this one is from a name I’m not aware of. So I want you to get as much info as you can concerning this individual and report it to me as soon as you get anything. Ok?”

“Ok, sir.”

“And secondly, I need to use the bathroom in the autopsy lab.” He laughed lightly after saying this.

The autopsy lab had a bathroom which was used by the personnel that carried out the autopsies to scrub down after each analysis, so as not to get any contaminants from the dead bodies onto their persons. Even though Chrome was a senior officer, he didn’t have access to the autopsy lab unless a member of staff was available. That was the real reason he was glad to see Stacey when she showed up.

The woman promptly reached into her bag and handed Chrome her access card. “Here you go, sir.”’

“Thanks a bunch.” He started out of the room. “In case Jerome comes in, tell him to bring my clothes over to the lab, ok?”

“Ok, sir,” she replied, then as though the thought had suddenly occurred to her, she added, “Just a minute, sir.” She began rummaging in her bag, lifting out a small tube of toothpaste, a mini bar of soap and a small tube of lotion. “I always keep these in case of emergencies like this,” she said with a smile as she handed the items to Chrome.

He thanked her and left the forensics lab for Stacey to begin the task he’d given her to do.

***

The time was 6:35am when Chrome walked into the C.S.I. conference room. He had taken a quick shower and thanks to Jerome, had on a fresh set of clothing. He was adjusting his tie when he sat on his especially reserved seat. He noticed that it was only Jerome who was present, and was about to ask the whereabouts of Walter and Edeeth when they both walked into the room. From the amused looks on their faces, they’d just been enjoying a joke right before entering the room. Chrome scowled at them and Jerome snickered. Edeeth instantly shot him a scathing look, one which made him stifle his amusement.

“Sorry for coming in late, sir,” Edeeth said, “but someone had to take an extra thirty minutes to get ready.” She threw Walter a sidelong look, one which he returned with a smile.

Chrome, however, did not share in their amusement. He half-snapped, “I don’t care what you lovebirds were up to, but we are all here now – so we can begin.”

Edeeth and Walter exchanged awkward looks at their boss’s terseness, and when Jerome snickered again – apparently he found their discomfort humorous – they both shot him scowls that again quenched his mirth.

When they were seated, Chrome began in a brisk tone, “I’m going to be brief so that we can get all our facts and findings on the table.” He brought out a flat file from his briefcase and set it on the table. He opened it and began distributing some documents inside it around the table. “As you already know, I carried out the DNA analysis on the artificial nail we found on the crime scene myself. The analysis ran through the night and was concluded in the early hours of today. From the documents you hold now, you can see that two distinct DNA were discovered within the sample given. I had to run two simultaneous searches using the National DNA Library, with Monica Scott as a reference for one search and a random search for the other.” He paused here and looked at his subordinates. Satisfied with their attention, he continued, “Sure enough, a match was gotten with that of Monica Smith. This puts her on the crime scene and makes her our prime suspect.”

Walter put up a finger, and Chrome’s nod of permission, he said, “If Monica’s DNA was one of the two that was on the nail, then whose was the second one?” He looked down at the paper he held in his hand. “I don’t see it here.”

“I haven’t made copies of that yet. The name of the individual who owns the second DNA is Dapo Ajayi. Right now, Stacey is helping out with a search to determine who this person is and where he can be found.”

“Stacey?” Edeeth asked, her voice faintly quizzical.

“Yes, Stacey,” Chrome replied, almost sarcastically. “She came in earlier and I asked her to help with the search while I got ready for this meeting.”

“Ok, sir, whatever you say,” Edeeth returned with a slightly mocking smile on her face.

This made Jerome snigger again, and this time Walter joined in. Chrome shook his head and laughed lightly, “All right, let me hear about your findings.”

Edeeth’s hand shot up and she said, “Walter will like to go first.” And she looked at Walter whose surprise at being put on the spot like that was evident. A smattering of laughter rolled around the table. It was good to see that the night’s rest had lifted their spirits. Equanimously, Walter went ahead to narrate to them all that transpired between him and Anderson Gyang, summarizing the details of the man’s story. Jerome and Edeeth also gave accounts of what they found out at the airport. At the end of their presentations, Chrome nodded his head and said, “Well it’s clear now that Sir Anderson is off our list and Monica’s involvement is looking more visible than ever.” He paused as if to ponder on something, then said, “The only thing now is…why would Chief Scott sneak into the state donning a disguise?”

Silence fell into the conference room which seemed to go on for several moments until the ringing of Jerome’s phone broke the silence. Startled by the sound and aware that his colleagues’ eyes were on him, he brought out the phone and checked the ID. “It’s Chude Miguel,” he said, and looking at Chrome, added, “The guy from the airport.”

“We’ll like to hear what he has to say,” Chrome replied.

Jerome nodded, picked the call and instantly put it on speaker. “Hello Chude,” he answered.

“Hello, Officer Jerome, good morning.” The man’s excitement was immediately obvious.

Edeeth rolled her eyes where she was seated.

“Do you have any information for me?” Jerome asked.

The other man’s voice came through the speaker, brisk as though he were a military personnel. “Yes I do, sir. I was able to get some information from the car hire service but it would be better if you came to see it for yourself – Over.”

It took a second for the last word to register, and after that second, everyone on the table began chuckling. Edeeth put her face in her hands, feigning embarrassment. They were all thinking the same thing: Chude Miguel truly did regard himself to be part of the investigation. Chrome signaled to Jerome to take the phone off speaker. When he did, Chrome said in a low tone, “Tell him another one of your colleagues will be coming in your stead.” At Jerome’s questioning look, he added, “You have an email to check out, remember?”

Jerome nodded in realization and resumed talking to Chude, giving him Walter’s description and details of how they would meet at the airport. When Jerome ended the call, Chrome stood and said, “So, Walter, you’ll check on this Miguel character and find out what he’s selling. Jay, you see to your email, and also check on Stacey to know if she’s through with her task. And Edeeth, you’ll be coming with me.”

“Where to, sir?”

“We’ll be going to pay the Scotts a surprise visit.”

January 17, 2013 | Categories: Uncategorized | 2 Comments

C.S.I: 9JA (The Jack And Jill Story: Episode 14)

The jeep that belonged to Anthony Scott plowed its way through Bauchi Road as he made his way back to his Bukuru residence. His chauffeur drove while Chief Scott busied himself with some documents at the back of the car. He looked up at the rear-view mirror and called his driver. “Dapo.”

“Sir?”

“Any word from the house?”

“No, sir. It seems she didn’t try leaving again.”

“Ok.” The commissioner returned back to his papers. After a while, he looked up again and said, “How is your injury?”

The driver hesitated for a moment, and then answered “It’s…it’s healing fine, sir.”

Chief Scott cocked a brow and said, “Is that so?”

The driver remained silent. The commissioner looked away from the mirror and said caustically, “Serves you right for not paying attention while you shaved.”

Dapo shrugged and said nothing still.

Anthony continued, “Same way you didn’t pay attention last night. Now my daughter is in this mess…” His voice was gaining volume as he continued. “The reason I kept you here was to watch over her. Don’t let her do anything stupid, but you failed me!”

There was silence. After a while, Dapo said softly, “I’m sorry, sir.” His voice betrayed no emotion. He maneuvered the car around the roundabout at Terminus and negotiated the Abuja/Jos expressway.

Anthony put away his documents into a briefcase and shut it. He leaned back on the seat and tried to relax on the plush leather covering. He sighed and finally said, “When we get home, I want you to contact my PA and tell him to arrange for our flight back to Uyo tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow, sir?”

“Yes, after the charity tournament, I want to leave this town and take my daughter away from here before the police try to arrest her again.”

“Ok, sir.” Dapo looked at his boss through the rear-view mirror as he answered. He caught Anthony’s gaze and the man nodded at him and said, “You’ll be coming with us.”

Dapo put his stare back on the road; there was no need to answer. The car was almost at the intersection which led to the area where the Scott residence was situated. In the distance, the blaze of lights that illuminated the houses in that area shone brightly in the gathering dusk.

***

Anderson was propped up on his bed. Though he didn’t seem so, his face looked tired. Walter sat beside him, eager to hear what he had to say. The old man heaved a sigh and began his tale.

“About forty-five years ago, I met and fell in love with the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. Her name was Rebecca Ette. We were both freshmen in the University of Uyo. I was new to the South since I am from Plateau State and grew up here. She showed me the way around Uyo. We grew close as the years went by, but we couldn’t go further than being friends because of our ethnic differences. We both left school a few years later and lost contact. But deep down in my heart I could never forget her. She was my first and only true love. I couldn’t date other women because of this.” He gave a self-deprecating shake of his head before continuing, “I’m sure you are wondering what kind of pathetic loser I am.” Before Walter could open his mouth to protest, he went on, “Anyway, as fate would have it, I was posted to Rivers State for my Youth Service.” He looked at the younger man and smiled wryly. “Yes, we had NYSC in my time too. And at the time, I served with a multinational oil firm. There was where I met the man who became my best friend.”

“Mr. Josiah Essien,” Walter found himself saying.

Anderson was taken aback by his words briefly. Then he smiled again and said, “I see you guys have been digging.”

“That’s what we are paid to do, what we are good at, to dig in our pursuit of the truth.”

“For the truth to set someone else free?” Anderson asked sardonically.

“In a way. The victim of a murder – the people he or she left behind – they all deserve the truth to be brought to light.” For a moment, when Anderson said nothing, Walter said encouragingly, “So, sir, you were saying?”

Anderson nodded. “Josiah and I became very close over the course of our youth service and we started planning business strategies together. We wanted to make it big and we weren’t ready to be anyone’s lackeys in any office. The year of the service ended and we started our firm immediately after. It was a small business. We started by hiring trucks to haul goods for marketers around the south-eastern and south-western states. In time, we began hauling oil and gas products. Our business expanded very quickly and we began delving into other lines of services. And six years after we started, our business became a limited liability company. We were in the money now and the pressure to settle began to tell on us. That was when JoJo – that was the nickname everyone called Josiah – introduced me to his fiancée. There was no quantifying my shock and dismay when I saw that his girlfriend and wife-to-be was none other than Rebecca. My Rebecca!”

The man’s voice betrayed the pain he felt at his recollections. Instinctively, Walter touched his hand.

“I’m fine,” he said hoarsely, tapping Walter’s hand reassuringly. “Even at that point, Rebecca and me – we were still very much in love. The feelings never died. The years that had passed did nothing to quench the passion. We tried our best to put a check on our emotions, to snuff out the feelings…but it just wasn’t possible. On the night before JoJo proposed to her, I went over to her place at her request. One thing led to another and the restraints we had put on our feelings were cut loose.” He looked up and faced Walter, as though daring him to condemn him for what he was going to say next. “We made love that night and I never once regretted it.”

He paused for a moment, and then continued, “She went on to marry JoJo and about six months after they moved in as a married couple – nine months after we made love – she gave birth to a beautiful baby boy. Even then, I wasn’t quite sure if the baby was mine or not, but I was happy for the couple. As the years went by, our business organization grew larger and attracted investors. Soon we had our hands in just about everything in Nigeria. Industry, import, export, you name it. We were all wealthy and happy, or so I thought.

“Then, JoJo called me one day; I think Jackson was about sixteen years old then. He confided in me that he wasn’t the happiest of men. He asked me if I thought Jackson was his son. I told him I did, and then he told me what he had never told anyone before, that he was impotent. As such, he couldn’t be the father to his son. He had lived a very wayward life back in his university days and had contracted an STD which he didn’t treat on time, one which caused him to be sterile. He told me he knew that he wasn’t Jackson’s father, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell Rebecca. I felt sorry for him, but I knew deep down inside that I was happier for myself. From that point on, I made it a point of duty to look after our son.” Anderson added a heavy stress on the word ‘our’ and he smiled as he finished the statement. A smile that quickly vanished.

Walter noticed this and asked, “Is this what caused the falling-out between the two of you?”

“Oh heavens no.” Again, he appeared taken aback by what the officer seemed to know. Chuckling sardonically, he said, “Heavens boy, soon, you might be the one telling my story.”

Walter smiled and said nothing.

Anderson continued, “JoJo never got to know I was Jackson’s father. Only Rebecca and I knew that. She begged me never to reveal it to either JoJo or Jackson.”

“Then…” Walter hesitated. “Then, what caused the split?”

“There was never a split, though we did have a quarrel, but it wasn’t enough to jeopardize all we worked hard for all these years.”

“So what caused your quarrel?” Walter asked insistently.

“Am I under interrogation here?” Anderson asked with a smile.

“No. I just want to know. Your story is very intriguing.”

“Ok, son, if you must know, it was because of politics.”

“Politics?”

“Yes, politics. I never was one for all that business, but JoJo – he felt he had something to prove because of his condition and dove head first into politics.”

“What’s wrong with going into politics?”

“My boy, in my time, politics was a very dirty game. Not like now, when things have changed. It used to be very dangerous and people got hurt. Even right now, there are some old farts like myself in politics who still believe in the ways of old.”

“Wow.” Walter didn’t know what else to say.

“Well, as I was saying, JoJo went into politics, and that was when things started to go sour between us. I confronted him over the issue and asked him to pull out of it and concentrate on business and family, but he wouldn’t budge. He finally relocated to Uyo, his hometown, and governed the affairs of the company from the branch there. Rebecca was already a senior lecturer in the University of Uyo at the time, so it was quite convenient for them. I stayed in the Headquarters in Abuja, but I maintained close contact with my friends. There was a reason I stayed in Abuja, so far away from JoJo and Rebecca. The reason was Jackson. He was undergoing his Youth Service program in Jos at the time.

“Four years after he joined politics, JoJo was given the chance to become the Commissioner of Education in his home state. He was the favorite to get the appointment, but his rival had political clout mighty enough to get his way. Nobody really knew what went wrong.” The pain was back in his voice, etched on his face. “A few days to the day when the governor would pick the new commissioner, JoJo and Rebecca became victims to a ghastly motor accident while on their way home from church.” The old man blinked and a tear traced a path down his weathered cheek. “The reports said it was a failed brake. I was there at their funeral…” More tears coursed down his cheeks. “I made a promise to them at their grave. I was going to take care of Jackson.” He wiped the back of his hand over his cheeks. “Eventually, I left the head office and moved to Jos to head the branch and oversee the entire company from here. The headquarters in Abuja was left to be governed by one of our trusted partners.”

Walter nodded again. More pieces of the puzzle were falling into place. “So you moved here to look after Jackson.” It wasn’t a question.

Anderson answered nonetheless. “Well, yes. It was the promise I made to them…to Rebecca. That’s why I was so surprised when you accused me of killing him. I could never hurt my own son. I loved him so much. I was going to give him everything.” At Walter’s uncomprehending look, he said, “I was going to give him everything we owned. I changed all the papers regarding ownership of the company to reflect its new owner to be Jackson – that’s why I was going to travel down to Uyo today, to finalize everything.” His eyes filled up again and the tears began to fall. “It was agreed by me and the current CEO that when Jackson got married, we would sign over ownership of the company to him. So we started by offering him a job, which he was meant to start in a week’s time, and then he told me yesterday morning about his plans to propose to that Monica girl. It was all so perfect. But in the end…I failed.”

The words broke a dam in his soul. He leaned forward, lowered his face into his hands and started to sob, hard wrenching sobs that shook his body. Walter got to his feet and put a hand on his shoulder. He said soothingly, “You can’t let yourself get overly stressed, sir. You need to get some rest.”

Moments passed before the elderly man calmed down and leaned back to lie on his bed. His features appeared saggy with the weight of his grief and the wrinkles on his face were more pronounced. The boisterous man lovingly attending to his golf equipment this morning was gone, broken, perhaps never to return.

Walter felt a connection to his misery, felt echoes of it well up inside him. He said huskily, “Thank you for telling me your story, sir. I’m really very sorry about your loss. Losing your friend, love and son can’t be easy. Remember that truth I talked about earlier? I promise you, sir, I will find it for you. I will find who did this to Jackson, and he or she or they will be made to pay.”

Anderson said nothing. He stared unseeingly up at the ceiling. Walter looked at the clock on the wall. The time was 11:35 pm. He was mildly startled by how much time had passed. His stomach suddenly growled and his eyes felt grainy. He turned to the man lying on the bed, feeling reluctant to leave him alone. But his exhaustion was crashing down on him like a deluge.

“Have a good night, sir,” he said.

Anderson said nothing still. Walter patted him one more time on the shoulder, gently, turned and walked out of the room. As his steps faded away in the corridor, Anderson finally closed his eyes. As he dozed off, he muttered, “My dear Becky, I’m sorry.” He sighed. “I’m sorry I failed you.” In a few minutes, he was asleep.

***

Chrome woke up with a jolt. The alarm clock he set had been buzzing for a while and he quickly pulled himself together. He reached out to the clock and shut off the alarm. He looked at the time. It was almost midnight. He rubbed the remainder of the sleep from his eyes and faced the monitor beside him. On the screen, the sequence of numbers that were running down had stopped and there was a pop-up window flashing at the base of the screen. It said DNA RETRIEVAL: COMPLETE. He clicked on the window and it expanded to show the results of the second stage. As he looked through, he came upon a something that sparked his interested.

“Hold on a second,” he said aloud to himself. The words resonated slightly in the quietness of the lab. “What do we have here?”

He punched a button on the keyboard in front of him and the printer that stood beside lab table whirred into life. In a matter of seconds, it had printed out what Chrome wanted to see. He snatched the printout and looked at it intently.

“That’s strange.” He began to read out a potion of the printout, “Two distinct DNA found within sample.” He held on to the printout for a while and then put it down. He faced the monitor once more and punched in some keys on the keyboard, promptly initiating the third and final stage of the analysis. “Time to see who you both belong to.”

January 15, 2013 | Categories: Uncategorized | Leave a comment

C.S.I: 9JA (The Jack And Jill Story: Episode 13)

The surveillance room of the Jos Airport was a small room at the far right side of the top floor of the complex. The terminal had four floors, excluding the subterranean floor which was used as a car park for airport personnel. As the officers and their guide walked up the flights of steps to the top floor, Chude had put in a call to a friend of his who worked as a security personnel. The plan was for him to meet the trio outside the surveillance room and help them get in. When they did, the officers were introduced to the head-security officer in charge of the room. They explained what they needed and the security officer obliged.  The officers observed how high-tech the security equipments within the room were. In spite of themselves, they were impressed.

“So, what exactly do you want to see?” the security officer, who had been introduced to them as Chibuzor, asked the officers. He had settled his considerable bulk on his seat and fixed beady eyes on the officers.

“We want to see the security footage from the baggage collection room for economy class passengers,” Jerome replied. Those who travelled first class had a different baggage room.

“Ok, do you have a specific time in mind?”

“The time the last flight from Uyo landed. That should be around” – Jerome looked at the manifest – “20:00 hours.”

The head-security officer instructed another security personnel, who sat behind a large desk before a state-of-the-art desktop computer. Just behind the desk was a wall with an array of 10.1 inch flat screens embedded into it. Each screen showed a different part of the airport. The security personnel punched a few buttons on the console before him and immediately one of the screens, which had ‘PBS’ tagged underneath it, came on and the officers could see the baggage room. The time displayed on the top-left corner of the screen read 20:02. The baggage room had very few people standing around in it, most of them uniformed security officers. There were no luggages on the conveyor as it moved. Chibuzor asked his subordinate to fast-forward the playback. The man pushed a lever on the console and the time zipped to 20:07. On the screen, the people in the room could see that there was much activity in the room now. People were trickling in from the lobby which passengers just arriving into the airport would walk through to get their luggage from the baggage room. Edeeth and Jerome watched closely, not allowing the slightest detail pass them by. It took about a minute before Edeeth caught sight of someone.

“There!” she said.

“Freeze frame,” Chibuzor instantly instructed.

The image on the screen froze and Edeeth pointed to a spot on the screen. “Can you magnify this region and increase the picture quality?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” the man behind the console answered and did as instructed. A push of a few buttons here, a swing of a lever there, and in no time the image was magnified and the resolution was changed to give a finer picture. The officers looked closely at a man within the shot. He was wearing a dark brown jacket and a face cap. His face was not clear from the angle he stood but there was something familiar about him.

“Can you play forward in slow motion?” Edeeth asked.

The man behind the console nodded and did as he was asked. The image on the screen began to move frame by frame. They saw the man move slowly until he bent to pick up his bag – which was unusually shaped for a travelling bag –, and then he turned and faced the screen as he walked out of the room. The man behind the console froze the image at that point and the CSI officers were looking into the face of a man whose features were familiar to them. A man they were surprised to see had evidently travelled via economy class to Jos. He was Chief Anthony Scott.

“What the hell is going on here?” Jerome hissed at Edeeth in surprise, not really expecting an answer.

Chief Scott was the last person they thought they would see. Edeeth watched the screen, her brow furrowed as she pondered something. She eventually asked Chibuzor if there was a way to follow the man on the screen.

“The cameras end just outside the arrivals lounge. If he doesn’t have a car waiting for him, it would be impossible to track him from there,” Chibuzor answered. He asked his subordinate behind the console to bring up the security footage from outside the arrivals lounge. When the screen changed to show the outside of the terminal, the officers saw the man they believed to be Chief Scott standing near the road; then he suddenly moved toward the left of the screen. He walked on until he was out of the camera range.

“Well, that’s all we have,” the man behind the console said.

“There’s no telling where he went from there,” Chibuzor added.

Edeeth and Jerome looked at each other and silently agreed that it was time to leave. They thanked Chibuzor and his colleague and asked if they could make available a copy of the footage they had just seen. Chibuzor assured them he would do so, and the officers, led by Chude, left the surveillance room and made their way back to the ground floor of the terminal. As they walked, Edeeth kept on pondering on what they had just seen. She heard Jerome say beside her, “Should we tell Chrome about this now?”

“Not yet,” she answered. “Let’s get all the facts together. Then we’ll report it in the morning.”

Jerome heaved a small sigh. Thoughts he’d had earlier about his speedy return to the hotel to order some room service and hit the bed immediately after dinner were starting to look like they won’t become reality; at least, not for some time. “Ok. So what do we do now?”

“I don’t know. It’s just so annoying that his trail went cold outside the terminal.”

Chude interjected, “If I may, officers. If the man you were watching on the screen went to the left of the terminal, he most likely went to the executive car rentals within the airport premises.”

Jerome and Edeeth looked at themselves, and then at Chude. “Executive car rentals?” Edeeth asked.

“Yes. They have been rendering their services within the airport for over a year now.”

“What kind of cars do they rent out?” Jerome asked

“All kinds of cars – sedans, jeeps, you name it.” Chude paused, and then said, “If you want, I can check them out for you and let you know by morning.”

The officers wanted to turn down his offer and do it themselves, but the fatigue that was battering their insides was beginning to tell on them. Edeeth was the one who gave the man permission to carry on his inquiry. “Ok Chude, find out what you can. The likely name used to rent the car would be Ememesi Scott. We want to know where he is headed and at what time he rented vehicle.”

“Ok, got it,” Chude said, his eyes brimming with his excitement.

“Make sure you get back to us first thing in the morning,” Jerome said.

“Sure, officers, glad I can be of help again.”

The officers bade him goodnight and made their way to the car park. Jerome started the engine and before long they were back on the expressway, making their way towards Anguldi, where the hotel which housed the team was situated.

***

Walter had immediately called on the nearest nurse he could find after he found Anderson awake on his bed. He was presently being attended to by the doctor on call and a few nursing staff. Walter watched from outside as the medical team checked the old man’s vitals and asked him some questions. They removed the tube in his nose and shut off the EKG machine. The nurses left the doctor alone with the patient and after what seemed to be an eternity for Walter, the doctor came out as well.

“Doctor, how is he?”

“He is doing very well, though he’s still weak.”

Walter peered into the room. The man was lying down with his back slightly inclined but his eyes were open and his breathing was steady. Walter turned back to the doctor and asked, “Any chance I could go in to see him?” The doctor was about to say something, but Walter quickly chipped in, “Don’t worry, I won’t say anything to get him upset.”

“Please don’t. His heart is still weak. Any more excitement and he might have another episode.”

“I’ll be careful,” Walter assured the other man. The doctor nodded and walked away.

Walter walked into the recovery room. The old man noticed that someone had entered and he slowly looked to his left to see the police officer. His eyes flickered tiredly over the officer, and then he sighed and looked away. Walter moved to the side of his bed and stood, wondering what he was going to say, how he was going to begin.

“If you are going to apologize,” Anderson suddenly said in a weak, groggy voice, “better do it now.” There was no anger in his voice.

“I’m sorry for causing your heart attack, sir,” Walter intoned.

There was no response from Anderson. A few moments ticked by. Walter was about to turn away and leave the room when the old man replied. “Tell me the truth. Is he…is Jackson really dead?”

Walter turned around to face him. He leaned forward to look at the old man’s face. He was staring into space, his eyes glassy with sudden tears. Walter felt a rush of guilt for what he was about to do, but he knew he had to tell him the truth. “Yes sir. Jackson Essien is dead.”

The sigh that surged from the man was trembly and weak. He blinked hard, and the beads of the tears trickled down the sides of his face. The man was in obvious pain, and Walter, touched by it, picked up his gnarly hand and held it tenderly, silently comforting him. They remained still for a while.

Then Anderson said what the officer hadn’t expected to hear. “Jackson…” – his voice was feeble but the words were strong – “my son…is dead…”

To say Walter was surprised would be mildly stating the strength of his reaction to what he heard Anderson Gyang say. His lower jaw slowly dropped as a stunned look suffused his face. He stared at the invalid with disbelief, wondering, fleetingly so, if he had just told a joke and wanted to see how the officer would react to it. But the man lying on the bed, looking all broken up, his body trembling slightly with the strength of his silent grief, was anything but amused. Walter blinked rapidly and shook his head to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating from the fatigue he felt.

“Sir…” he began, “I don’t understand, sir…I thought I just heard you say Jackson was your son.” He fixed an intent gaze on the man.

Suddenly, Anderson wasn’t moving, and his eyes stared unblinkingly ahead of him. Walter was worried if he had caused him another stroke and was about to go into a panic when Anderson spoke in a grave voice, “Yes, my dear boy, you heard me right.” He paused for a moment to sit up, an endeavor Walter helped him with. Then he continued. “Jackson is my son.” He faced Walter as he said the words. He wasn’t crying anymore, though the sadness remained.

“I don’t understand.” Walter was shaking his head slightly in bewilderment.

Anderson sighed. He looked down at his hands and said, “I might as well tell you everything.”

January 12, 2013 | Categories: Uncategorized | 2 Comments

C.S.I: 9JA (The Jack And Jill Story: Episode 12)

Chrome roused himself from his thoughts, snapping out of his mental synthesis of the case. He had a faintly worried look on his face. The case was more complicated than he had thought it would be, but he had thought up three different worst case scenarios. Depending on what his subordinates would dig up, he wouldn’t jump into any conclusions yet. First case scenario: Monica Scott did it. This would depend on the analysis he was carrying out right now and also on whatever Edeeth and Jerome would find out at the airport. Second case scenario: Anderson Gyang did it. It would be harder to deduce now that the man was stretched out, an invalid, in the hospital. Third case scenario: there was someone else they hadn’t considered, someone who had killed Jackson Essien and had masterfully covered his tracks. The last case scenario was what had him worried. What if they had been looking at everything from the wrong angle? What if the real killer was still out there walking freely? He sighed. Right now, there was nothing he could do but wait until what they had was thoroughly examined. He looked at the clock. The time was 6:25pm. He had spent about thirty minutes brainstorming. Not long enough by his standards. He was fatigued. He needed to rest.

Just then, there was a knock on the laboratory door. At Chrome’s call, Stacey walked in. She wasn’t wearing her lab coat and looked very pleasing in a brown khaki blouse on blue denim. She came closer to where Chrome sat and greeted him.

“How are you, Stacey?”

“Fine, sir.” She looked around the lab and said, “You are all alone?”

“Indeed, I am.”

Stacey stood where she was, half fidgety. Her eyes slid to where he sat, but she couldn’t quite make contact with his. Realizing that she wanted to say something and in no mood to accommodate her sudden anxious reticence, he asked, “Is there something you want?”

“Oh no, sir,” she stuttered a little. “I was almost on my way out when I saw the lights in the lab were on. I just wanted to know if anyone was in here.”

“Ok, well I’m carrying out some analytical work that will run through the night,” Chrome said as he turned to look at the computer screen. Stacey looked at the work he was engrossed in and then at the watch strapped to her wrist. Taking a deep breath, she finally moved from the spot she was standing to the side of the stool Chrome sat on. He was so close to her that she felt besieged with the redolence of his musky body scent, which was a blend of the day he had had and his deodorant. She felt suddenly heady with the scent.

“Um…sir?” she said nervously.

“Yes?” Chrome answered without looking up at her. He was studying the program flitting through the screen intently.

“Do…do you need…um, any help?”

“Don’t worry. I have everything under control.”He still hadn’t looked at her, nor noticed that she was standing close to him.

Her face fell at the slight disappointment she felt. She ventured another question, “So, how are things with you and Ruth?”

At the mention of his girlfriend’s name, Chrome looked up, suddenly remembering what he had planned to do earlier. He glanced at Stacey, smiling, and answered, “We’re fine. I’m actually glad you mentioned her. I was supposed to call her but I completely forgot.” He put down the writing pad and pen, and dug inside his suit for his cell phone.

Stacey stood there for a moment. A slight feeling of jealousy, like bile, rose up her throat and she quickly swallowed. Shaking her head in self-deprecation at her emotions, she muttered ‘Good night’ and began to turn away.

“Stacey?” She stopped. Chrome had felt the sudden and slight tenseness in the atmosphere. He didn’t know why it was present but he suddenly felt the need to say something, something nice, to the woman. “I appreciate all the efforts you’ve been putting in for the unit. You are doing a fine job. This analysis will run its course through the night and I wouldn’t want to subject you to such a stress. Go home and get some rest. I’ll need your assistance in the morning when the analysis is concluded.” He smiled at her when he was done talking and her face lit up as she walked away.

When she got to the door, she turned back to him and said, “Good night, sir. Be safe.”

“I will. You have a good evening.”

In the wake of her departure, Chrome dialed Ruth’s number. “Hello babe,” he said the moment she answered.

“Boo!” she said, half screaming through the receiver, which was characteristic of her.

This always made him laugh. “I’m sorry I haven’t called you all day, babe, but this case is much more tasking than I thought.”

“Oh boo, I’ve missed you,” she cooed

“I’ve missed you too.”

“Not hearing from you all day got me worried, you know?”

“I know…worried enough to make prank calls, right?” He laughed as he said that.

“Prank calls?”

“Oh come on, babe, I know it was you who called me twice with a private number.”

“Me?” The confusion in her voice sounded very genuine. “I haven’t called you today. I was at work all day and when you called earlier, I was driving, so I couldn’t pick it up.” She paused, and then continued, “I’m sorry I didn’t call back after I got home, I was really exhausted and took a dip in the bathtub…I completely forgot, sorry.”

Chrome was torn between figuring out who made the prank calls and imagining his girlfriend in the bathtub. God! What he wouldn’t give to be there right now. However, he found himself muttering, “If you weren’t the one who called me, then who did?”

The question was rhetorical, but Ruth answered nonetheless, “I don’t know.” They both fell silent for a moment until she intoned, “So, how’s the case coming?”

“It’s picking up pace. Not much to say about it now, but it’s just been a day. I believe by morning, we should have something solid to go on with.”

“I trust you, my superman,” she teased.

Chrome laughed and said, “Well then, Miss Lane, permit me to make a request.”

“Go ahead, man of steel.”

“How would you like to fly out with me to the hills of Kuru?”

“When?!” There was excitement in her voice.

“As soon as I wrap up this case – the weekend after.”

“That would be wonderful. I’ve always wanted to visit the hills.”

“I know, I just want you to have a fantastic time.”

“Oh, boo! I love you!”

“I love you too, babe”

“Alright, now shoo with you!”

“What?” Chrome was mildly taken aback.

“Back to work, lover boy! The sooner you catch the bad guy, the sooner I get to see the hills,” she said with evident glee.

Chrome laughed. He loved her humor. “Ok babe, you take good care of yourself.”

“I will, and you do the same for me too. Have a good night.”

“Good night.”

The call was disconnected, and he replaced the phone on the table. He felt a mixture of intense pleasure from speaking to her and a niggling worry over the conundrum of who had been calling him. A yawn fought its way through his mouth, bringing to his mind his most pressing problem. He was exhausted. He promptly dismissed the thought of the prank calls. Right now, he needed rest. He stretched and picked up the alarm clock on the table, which was used in timing experiments inside the lab. No use trying to think on a tired brain. He set the alarm clock to beep in six hours time. That should be enough time for him to grab some shuteye. He replaced the clock on the table and stood up from the stool, lumbered to the door and locked it. He took off his lab coat and then his suite. He went back to the table and tried to sit as comfortable as possible. Before long, with his head down, he was asleep.

***

The car park at the Jos airport had been renovated after a fire outbreak a few years back. Many believed it was a terrorist attack orchestrated by the militant group that plagued the Northern region of the country at the time. The fire had gutted a vast area around the car park, destroying several vehicles, before it was put out by the fire service. It was rumored that it was started by a bomb explosion, but the authorities rebuffed the claims with a press release stating that it was caused by a leaking fuel tank on one of the cars parked there. To be on a safer side, the government added some safety features to the park during renovation. The entrance had cameras embedded in the ground which scanned the underpart of any vehicle that stopped to collect a parking toll. So many other security features were added and these included Explosiometers and other devices that could pick up the slightest amount of explosive and flammable gases in the air. At the entrance, Jerome showed his ID card to the security operatives and was let in. He found a good spot to park and killed the car engine. He and Edeeth got out simultaneously and in a matter of minutes, were on the walkway which led to the departure wing of the airport.

It didn’t take long before they found the Trans-Delta Airline booth at the terminal, but the walk from the entrance was quite a tedious journey. There was a horde of people lining up and walking about inside the terminal. It was just over a week to the Nation’s Independence Day celebration and a lot of people were trying to get to different areas within the country to celebrate it. The officers had to shove their way through the crowd of travelers to get to where they were going. At the booth, Jerome leaned forward and asked the lady sitting behind the desk – who he identified as Danielle from her name-tag – for the whereabouts of Chude Miguel.

While he did this, Edeeth busied herself by looking around the airport terminal. Ever since she became a member of the C.S.I team, she had never passed through the same way everyone else went while travelling. The team always used the wing reserved for Federal V.I.Ps, and this was at the far end of the airport. She was amazed how things had changed inside the Jos terminal. A few years back, it was one of the worst Nigerian Airports by standard (something most of the airports in the northern region of the country shared). The equipments were outdated and things generally didn’t work around there. Again, thanks to the new administration, all the nation’s airports had seen a turnaround in terms of infrastructure. A few of them had even been upgraded to international standards. Edeeth’s wandering mind was brought back to the present by Jerome’s voice. He was saying something about the workers for the airline having weird names.

“Can you believe them?” he said

“What?” Edeeth asked, blinking her eyes and her mind back to the conversation he obviously had started without her knowledge.

“Didn’t you hear what I said?”

“Sorry, I wasn’t listening.”

“I was just thinking about the names on the tags of the people I’ve seen working here,” he said, looking from one side to the other. “They all have fancy foreign names like it’s a fad. That makes me laugh, you know?”

“Well, you’re one to talk – Jerome!” She added a heavy stress on his name.

Jerome laughed.

She smiled as she asked him “So, where is your source?”

“The lady at the counter said he would soon be with us, so I guess in a few more minutes he’ll be here.”

“We he better be. The sooner we get the info, the sooner we are out of here. I’m running low on gas for the day. Have you even had anything to eat?”

Jerome’s eyes widened when he realized what his answer was going to be. “Not since breakfast, before we were notified of Jackson Essien’s dead body. My goodness, has it been that long?”

“You bet.” Edeeth fought a yawn that suddenly worked its way to her mouth. “By now, I should be used to the grueling pace of our work, but sometimes – Urrgghh!” She made a face with the exclamation.

Jerome chuckled and was about to say something when a deep voice cut in, “Officer Jerome?” The two of them turned to see a man clad in the Trans-Delta Airline staff uniform of white shirt tucked into black trousers, the shoulders of the white bearing the airline’s logo. “You’re Officer Jerome?” he asked again. He was a chunky, dark-skinned man with alert eyes and a brisk manner. When Jerome nodded, he stretched out his hand. “I’m Chude Miguel.”

Jerome took the hand in a handshake. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Miguel.”

“Please call me Chude.”

“Very well. This here is my partner, Officer Edeeth.”

Edeeth shook hands with him, and said without any preamble, “Chude, I believe you have some information for us.”

“Wow, straight to the point I see. I heard you C.S.Is don’t joke around, I guess that info was right,” the man said with a smile.

“Well, we’re kind of under some pressure,” Jerome explained. “And Deborah Banks told us you could help.”

“Yeah, Debby told me and I do have what you need.” He motioned to them. “If you’ll follow me this way, I’ll give it to you.” He turned to the lady behind the counter and said, “Danny, I’ll be gone for a few minutes; cover for me.”

She nodded. He walked away, followed by the officers as they moved towards the Trans-Delta Airline office within the airport terminal. When they got there, Chude asked the officers to wait outside. It was illegal for him to share any kind of confidential information with anyone who was not a member of staff. Even though they were police officers – especially because they were police officers –, they were supposed to have a warrant in order to have access to whatever the airline staff had for them. But there had been no time. Warrants went through many protocols before they could be issued and time was something the officers didn’t have. They patiently waited for their informant to return; moments later, he reappeared holding some sheets of paper. He handed them over to Jerome.

“Here you go, just as you asked.”

Jerome rifled through the papers, handing Edeeth some sheets to go through as well.

“Those are the manifests from all the flights from Uyo to Jos yesterday evening and night. I had to pull a lot of strings to get copies from other airlines,” Chude added, as though angling for a reward for his work.

Edeeth asked, “I thought your airline was the only one to fly last night.”

“Well, ours was the last plane to arrive the airport, but we certainly weren’t the only one who flew in last night.” He sounded a little defensive, and he divided a cross but expectant look between the two officers.

Understanding the other man’s need to be appreciated, Jerome said, stretching his hand, “Thanks for this. We really do appreciate your assistance.”

Chude shook his proffered hand, his face beaming. “Glad I could help.”

Edeeth was still going through the manifests while the two men courted, and her eyes caught on a detail. A name on the manifest. Ememesi Scott. It had appeared in the economy class list. She tapped Jerome on the shoulder, splayed the paper before his face and pointed a finger at the name.

“Ememesi Scott?” Jerome muttered. “I don’t think I’ve heard the name before.”

“Maybe a relative of the Scotts?” Edeeth said, half asking.

“Did you find something useful?” Chude asked, his excitement at such a prospect evident in his voice.

It took a while for the officers to realize that he was still standing there. It was as if the discovery of the name had thrown them into another world. Jerome turned around to face him and said, “Yes we did, thank you.” He hoped the second ‘Thank you’ would be hint enough for the man.

But Chude didn’t budge. The excitement of being part of a police investigation appeared to be too much of a gravitational force that held him rooted to the spot.

It irked Jerome, and he had just opened his mouth to word his displeasure when Edeeth, suddenly having an idea, asked, “Excuse me, Chude, do the arrivals lounge have security cameras?”

“Off course, they do, ma’am.” He sounded a little affronted by the question.

Edeeth laughed when she realized what she had asked. “Sorry, what I was trying to say was, is there any way you could help us gain access to where they monitor the cameras?”

“Ok…that would be the main security room, on the top floor of the terminal.” Chude stopped as if to ponder for a moment, and then continued, “Of course, it won’t be easy to gain entrance, but I think I can talk to some people.” There was a self-satisfied smile on his face.

Feeling like part of the team, are we? Edeeth thought with a wry smile. She exchanged a look with Jerome, and they silently realized that they were stuck with Chude Miguel for awhile longer.

“Ok, Chude, lead the way,” Jerome said

They followed their guide towards the stairway that would take them to the top floor of the terminal. As they walked on, Edeeth looked at her wrist watch. The time was 6:35pm. She caught herself wondering how Walter was doing and immediately scolded herself. What the hell is wrong with you? He’s not a child. He can take care of himself. She let out a sharp breath and followed the men who walked ahead of her up the stairway.

***

Walter had gone through half of the journal when a nurse came into the room to check on the patient. She was a young lady, seemingly in her mid-twenties, Walter observed, and from the way she handled the equipments, she had a flair for her job. Her white linen blouse, which she wore over white trousers of the same fabric – which, in his opinion, gave her the look of an apprentice in a 60s Hollywood horror flick – had a name tag right above her breast pocket. Over the years, the uniforms for nurses had undergone drastic changes, especially in Federal Medical Centers. This change was put into effect by the National Association of Nigerian Nurses and Midwives (N.A.N.N.M.) which had received complaints by quite a number of nurses of sexual harassment. The new uniforms didn’t really make much difference in that aspect, but it did give the nurses a new sense of pride in their work. Walter watched the petite woman go about her duties until she turned around to see him staring.

“Is there a problem sir?” she asked, her features betraying a faint unease with his scrutiny.

“Oh, excuse me, Miss” – he looked at the name tag – “Yvonne. I didn’t mean to stare.” He smiled reassuringly at her. “I was only admiring your efficiency. You seem to be very good at what you do.”

The nurse smiled back at him. If she was light-skinned, her face would have turned a hint of red, so evident was her pleasure and embarrassment at his words. “Thank you, sir,” she muttered, and continued with what she’d been doing. Moments later, she was wheeling out the cart she came in with. She got to the door, hesitated and turned around. “Would you be needing anything, sir?” she asked almost shyly.

“Um…nothing for now, thank you. But if I do need anything, I won’t hesitate to call on you.” He punctuated his words with another smile.

The nurse’s eyes skittered away from his face with abashment and she turned and left. Walter went back to flipping the pages of his journal. A small smile hovered on his mouth as he relived what had just transpired. Seems I’ve still got it, he thought to himself. In that moment his mind wandered to where Edeeth might be, what she might be doing, how the investigation was going on her end. He missed having her here with him, ribbing him with her wisecracks one second and acting all maternal toward him the next.

The thoughts of her had started to warm his insides when a slight cough cut into his reverie. He looked up in the direction of the sound. It was Anderson. The man was awake.

January 11, 2013 | Categories: Uncategorized | 3 Comments

C.S.I: 9JA (The Jack And Jill Story: Episode 11)

Jerome drove the Toyota Corolla down the freeway towards the airport. He remembered the last time he visited Jos a few years ago. The road that led from the airport to the city had been a very lonely one. Now there were lots of buildings dotting the terrain, most of them expansive hotels and the smaller, unobtrusive motels. The rate of development around the nation was alarming. But he wasn’t complaining. The shift from Oil and Gas to Agriculture and Renewable Energy as the nation’s sources of external revenue and energy was a welcome development. It had brought about a large amount of employment opportunities and a reduction in CO2 emission that resulted from gas flaring. The Federal Government even went a step further by building two state-of-the-art refineries in the South-West and South-East regions of the country. Things sure had changed over the years, Jerome thought to himself as he drove. He was wearing a Bluetooth earpiece on his left ear. He usually wasn’t comfortable about making phone calls while driving, but in this case he made an exception. He put in a call to Deborah and it didn’t take long before she answered.

“Hello Debs,” he spoke into the headset.

“Hey, Jay, been expecting your call.”

“We had a meeting earlier on.”

“Ok, so I was able to do some digging around and it turns out there was a flight from Uyo to Jos last night by an airline called Trans-Delta Air. It’s a new airline and not very popular. They operate only domestic flights and one of theirs happens to be the only flight from Uyo to Jos last night.”

“Trans-Delta Air? Yeah, I’ve heard of them.”

“Well, I made contact with one of the ground staff of the airline and he promised to get you a copy of the manifesto.”

“That’s great, Debs,” Jerome said excitedly.

“Yeah, so all you have to do is go the departure wing of the airport, at the Trans-Delta Air stand, and ask for Chude Miguel,” Deborah said.

“Chude Miguel?”

“Yes.”

“What sort of name is that? What is he – Latino-African?” Jerome’s tone was marinated with light derision.

Deborah laughed. “Keep that opinion to yourself. The guy is quite the hothead.”

“Okie-dokie then. Chude Miguel, got it.”

“I hope that helps. If you need anything else, you can ask him and he’ll help out. He’s a good guy. You take care now and call me soon, ok?”

“I will, Debs, thanks again.” He disconnected. He reclined on the driver seat of the car and he checked the time on the dashboard. It was 5:36pm. He was about negotiate a turn from the freeway to the main road that led to the airport when his phone rang. He tried his best to concentrate on the drive whilst looking at the display. It was Edeeth. He dropped the phone and pressed a button on the side of the Bluetooth earpiece to answer the call. “Hey Edeeth, fancy you calling me for a change,” he joked.

“No time for jokes, Jay,” she said crisply through the receiver, obviously in no mood for play.

“Oh, sorry about that. What can I do for you?” Jerome asked, masterfully hiding his hurt at her brusqueness. In all the years they’d been working together, he had come to realize that Edeeth had a better rapport with Walter than with him. Those two had a chemistry that they weren’t even aware of. He supposed it came from the fact that they’d been on the CSI team longer than him; he was the last addition to the investigative team.

“I need you to come pick me up at J.U.T.H.”

“J.U.T.H. – what are you doing there?”

“No time to explain. Chrome wants me to accompany you to the airport, to partner with you on your lead over there.”

“Why don’t you and Walter drive down and meet me at the airport, then he can leave,” Jerome said sourly. He didn’t appreciate Edeeth’s crispness over the phone. Talk about being a bitch, he thought. Besides, he was almost at his destination, and he didn’t appreciate this detour. He worked better alone anyways; why would Chrome saddle him with Edeeth. She obviously didn’t sound too pleased by the assignment.

“Just come and get me, will you?” Edeeth said, almost commandingly.

Jerome navigated the car to the side of the road and slowed down. He worked a quick mental calculation on the distance between where he was and either destination. If he continued down the road, he would make it to the airport in roughly ten minutes; but if he turned around to go pick up Edeeth, he would spend fifteen minutes just to get to the hospital. He sighed heavily and said, “Ok, I’m on my way.” He pushed the button on the earpiece again to end the call as he maneuvered the car in a semi-circle. Before long, he was back on the freeway headed in the direction of the J.U.T.H.

***

Edeeth held her phone in her fist for a while. She had just realized that she’d sounded very abrupt with Jerome. She didn’t understand what triggered such coldness towards him. She shook her head as she replaced the phone back in her pocket, trying to block out the thoughts that came racing in. At that moment, she realized that she had absentmindedly taken a medical journal from the table in the lounge and had been holding it throughout the time she was talking to Chrome on the phone. Talk about spacing out, she thought. She was a strong willed woman who never allowed emotions to come in the way of her work. What exactly are you getting emotional about? she thought. She shook her head again as she walked back towards the private recovery room where Anderson was taken to. By the time she got to the door, she had put the thoughts out of her mind. Peering through the window on the side of the room, Edeeth could see Walter sitting on a chair about a foot away from where the elderly man lay. They had taken off the nose tube; only the drip was still attached to his right hand. The old man was breathing steadily, as evidenced in the rapid rise-and-fall movement of his frail chest beneath the hospital garb he was wearing. Edeeth caught a glimpse of Walter’s face. The worry that was etched on his features on the drive to the hospital and in the lounge earlier had faded. Though he wasn’t smiling, he looked more alive. Suddenly, for some reason she couldn’t fathom, she found she couldn’t seem to tear her eyes away from the sprinkling of dark hair on the arms he had folded before his chest, nor the tapering fingers that curled over his upper arm. Her mind was suddenly afire with thoughts of those strong, warm hands sliding about her body, her body which would be trembling against his, before he would twine the fingers through her hair, pulling her head forward toward his, bending his face to give her a mind-blowing, intense, passionate –

Whoa! What is this? She shook herself free from her heated reverie and backed away from the window. This is no time for such nonsense, she thought. Get a grip on yourself, girl. She looked at her watch. Jerome would be around any minute to pick her up. She sighed, took another inhalation, and walked into the recovery room.

Walter didn’t notice Edeeth come into the room, but she got his attention when she placed a hand on his left shoulder. The touch felt warm. She had a way of making him feel at peace. He smiled at her and she handed him the medical journal in return. He realized that there was something guarded about her expression.

“What’s this for?” he asked.

“I – er, got it for you,” she said, stuttering a bit, “since you’re going to be here a while, you might as well read something to get your mind off what happened.”

“You want me to read?” Walter asked, eyeing the material in her hand as though it was something he needed to stay far away from.

“Why not? You have to do something to while away the time. We don’t know for how much longer he would be unconscious.”

 Walter shrugged, and took the journal from her. He looked at the cover and raised an eyebrow. “A medical journal?” When Edeeth nodded in affirmation, he looked at her with a slightly incredulous expression. “You want me to read a medical Journal – in a hospital – around all these sick people?”

Edeeth chuckled and smacked him lightly on the back of his head. “Silly you. You’re not going to catch anything just by reading the journal. Besides, we are C.S.Is” – she made the last comment with a slight air of pride – “A little added knowledge can’t hurt you now, can it? No,” she concluded firmly.

Walter smiled ruefully. “Yeah…you’re right.” He looked at the clock on the wall opposite where he sat and asked, “When are you supposed to be leaving for the office?”

“I told you, Jerome is meant to come pick me up.”

“Jerome?”

“Yes, Jerome,” Edeeth said, sounding a bit exasperated. “I told you he’s on an assignment at the airport, and Chrome wants me to partner with him.”

“Oh, sorry – I guess I wasn’t listening then.”

“It’s alright. I understand.” She paused a while and then said, “You’re going to be fine…right?”

He nodded.

She smiled and said, “Good. I have to go now. Jerome should be here any minute. Call me if and when anything happens, ok?”

He nodded. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. You get going.” He turned a page on the journal as she left the room.

When she got to the lounge, and then out into the warm evening, there was no sign of Jerome. It was almost six o’clock. She wondered how far off he was. She hated being made to wait. It irked her, especially if it was a man who was the cause of the delay. She was about to head back into the hospital when a black Toyota Corolla pulled up into the car park by the side of the building. She recognized the car as one of theirs.

As he swung into a parking space, Jerome recognized Edeeth’s form in front of the hospital ahead of him. He set the automatic gear on Park and turned off the ignition. As he stepped out of the car, Edeeth was already halfway across the distance from him. She wasn’t smiling, but she wasn’t frowning either. That made Jerome a little bit uncomfortable. He dealt better with people when he could read their body language and facial expressions. That was one of his talents. By reading an individual’s expression, he could decipher the underlying emotion. But Edeeth was one of those rare people, he had come to know, who had a masterful control over their expressions, only giving away what they wanted you to know. Her gait was the usual sure and purposeful, slightly hip-swaying stride, and her face maintained the deadpan look until she got to him.

“Sorry, I’m late” he said, apologizing for something he knew he didn’t do. Experience had taught him the best way to lighten a situation with the opposite sex was to be on the receiving end. The more he gave out the upper hand, the quicker the tension was defused. It was a strategy that seemed to work for him most of the time with women he’d dated in the past, and he could see it had worked this time too.

Edeeth’s mouth curved into a small smile. “Who gave you that idea that I was upset?”

Before long, they were driving out of the premises of the hospital and navigating their way back to the highway. When they had merged with the traffic headed toward the airport, Edeeth looked over at Jerome and said, “I’m sorry I made you come all the way here to pick me up.”

If Jerome was surprised by her apology, he did his best to hide it. He simply smiled and said, “It’s no biggie. The chief’s directive, right?”

“So what was it you were going to tell me concerning you ‘hunch’?”

“My hunch?” Jerome said, feigning forgetfulness. Edeeth shot him a pointed look, and he chuckled. “Oh! My hunch. He tooted his horn and he overtook a lorry who was belching thick, dark smoke from its rusty exhaust pipes. “Well, just like I told Chrome, I just had this gut feeling that there was more to the accident of Jackson Essien’s parents than meets the eye. I know it’s a long shot, but what if I’m right and somehow their death is connected to Jackson’s?”

Edeeth arched her head. Jerome’s reasoning was actually impressive. If there was anything she’d learned working on this elite team and from years of a career in investigating crime, it was that the littlest clues could rise from issues that were seemingly unrelated to the case at hand. “That sounds plausible. But let’s just take it one lead at a time, OK?”

“Yea, sure. It’s just that – I really want to get out of this town already.”

“Tell me about it,” Edeeth commiserated. “I’m having a nice long bath scheduled once we get back to Abuja for the express purpose of washing off all the dust I’ve accumulated here.” She shuddered delicately.

Jerome laughed. “It’s not so bad here. At least, this place is worlds away from Bayelsa, the time we went after that arsonist who was murdering smalltime politicians in their homes, and setting their houses on fire after his work is done.”

“Oh yes, I remember that one.” The man they’d been after had a ritual of killing these politicians, setting down their bodies in a circle drawn by their blood, and thereafter setting their houses on fire. He had started the murderous conflagration in Cross River, working his way through the South and down to the East. And they finally caught up with him in Bayelsa. The hunt had taken them into the swampy terrains of the Niger Delta, an experience Edeeth had not been able to completely scrub off her skin for days during her bath after it all. And now, she shuddered again at the recollection. “Oh boy, that is one place I never want to go back to. Remind me to resign if the police force there ever calls on our assistance again.”

Jerome laughed again as they drove on toward the airport.

January 5, 2013 | Categories: Uncategorized | 5 Comments

C.S.I: 9JA (The Jack And Jill Story: Episode 10)

The ETV (Emergency Transport Vehicle) of the Jos University Teaching Hospital arrived at the residence of Sir Anderson Gyang in less than 10 minutes, thanks to the light traffic and flashing sirens. The paramedics on hand wheeled the stretcher on which Anderson lay as Edeeth and Walter watched from the sidelines. Walter paid the taxi driver, and Anderson’s luggage was retrieved and taken back into the ailing man’s apartment. The officers got into their vehicle and drove behind the ambulance as it pulled out of the compound and into the freeway.  Walter sat on the passenger’s side; his countenance revealed his soberness.

While she drove, Edeeth kept shooting him concerned looks. She knew he blamed himself for what happened. Well, why shouldn’t he? she thought ungraciously. After all, it really was his fault. It was easy to put the blame on him, but a part of her admitted that it wasn’t entirely his fault. They were all under a tremendous amount of stress. They hadn’t caught a break since their previous assignment, and it wasn’t unlikely for even the best of them to snap under such pressures.  She looked at Walter once more and asked, “Are you alright?”

He didn’t reply.

She didn’t say anything else, and the silence stretched as she weaved through the highway traffic. She maintained her pace behind the ambulance as its siren blared and cleared a path for them on the road.

In his corner, Walter sat still. The only thought that lay heavy on his mind was a prayer. God, let him be alive.

The ambulance arrived at the Jos University Teaching Hospital (J.U.T.H.) approximately ten minutes later. The elderly man was immediately wheeled on a stretcher into the emergency room. The two officers waited in the reception for feedback from the doctors. Edeeth sat in one of the chairs in the lounge while Walter paced back and forth, stopping from time to time to see if any doctor was coming out of the ER.

After what seemed to be an eternity to the officers, a man clad in the white coat of a physician stepped out of the room and headed their way.  Both Walter and Edeeth walked up to him before he got to the lounge and the look on Walter’s face was enough to tell the doctor what they wanted to know.

“Don’t worry, officers,” he began, “he’s going to be fine, though he’s still unconscious.”

Walter let out a sigh of relief and Edeeth lifted a hand to rub his shoulder.

The doctor continued, “He was very lucky. If you hadn’t performed CPR before bringing him here, it would have been another story.”

It was Walter’s turn to pat Edeeth on the back. She was the one who maintained a level head when the emergency had occurred. She had performed the CPR. If it weren’t for her, a manslaughter charge might have been hanging over his head at the moment. The officers told the doctor what happened and how the patient was vital to their investigation. The doctor explained to them what sort of ailment his patient was suffering. He further informed them that Anderson would need to rest, firmly adding that he shouldn’t be subjected to any further interrogation, or else the strain of answering the questions could trigger another episode.

“I have to leave you now,” the doctor said. “I have another patient to check on.”

“Ok, doctor,” Edeeth replied.

“Doctor…” Walter hesitated for a moment, but he went on to ask, “May we go in to see him?”

“I don’t see why not. Just as long as you don’t disturb him.”

“We won’t.” Walter started off in the direction of the ER, with Edeeth coming up behind him.

Inside the ward, Anderson lay on one of the beds. His eyes were shut. He had a tube connected to his nose and another was wired into his arm. His heart was being monitored by an EKG machine, and he looked really frail, unlike the robust man they met earlier in the day.

Had it really been just this morning that they had questioned him, Walter wondered as his eyes swept over the invalid. It felt now as though an eternity had passed. He rubbed a hand over his face, emitting a small sigh of exhaustion.

Edeeth tapped him gently on the back. “Hey Walt –”

“You don’t have to say anything, Edeeth,” he cut in before she could go any further. “I know it’s my fault. I got carried away by emotions. I should have listened to you.” His tone was marinated with regret.

Edeeth was about to say something when she was interrupted again. This time it was her phone. She brought it out of her pocket and saw from the display that it was Chrome calling. “Walt, it is Chrome.” She waited for him to respond, but he kept looking through the ER window. She sighed and walked off towards the lounge to answer the call.

***

Chrome sat on the lab stool as the monitor in front of him kept on flashing numbers and alphabets. The program still had a few hours to run before the second stage would be done. This was the perfect time for him to think. He had to put the pieces of the puzzle together. He had faith in the abilities of his subordinates but he knew at the end of the day, they would still look up to him to fill in the blank spaces. He sat quietly. His mind was a beehive of activity; it computed pieces of information pulled from his memory, tied the pieces together, and strived to make sense of it. This was his specialty. He wasn’t a pushover when it came to physical exertion. In fact, he could easily hold his own against any and all contenders when it came to a brawl; after all, every member of the team underwent rigorous trainings abroad. The incumbent government spared no expense. It was determined to fight crime and corruption which had plagued the country for years. Gone were the days when criminals walked free even after the evidence fingered them out as the perpetrators of the crime. The entire police force was revamped. Corrupt officers were dismissed, and some others arrested. The reformation took the nation by storm. But even with the changes, some individuals operated under the notion that they could outsmart the police force.

That was where the CSI team came into play. And that was the reason why Chrome was the leader of the team. His greatest prowess was his intellect. The same intellect he was about utilizing in the case at hand when the ringing of his phone intruded. He instinctively looked around the lab table for the device; then he remembered it was in the inner breast pocket of the suit he was wearing. He dug out the phone and checked the caller ID. It registered Private number. Ruth again with the pranks, he thought as he answered the call.

“Hello.” He waited a while for an answer but there was none. He let out a chuckle and said. “Ok babe, I think you can drop the act now.”

Still there was no answer.

He disconnected from the call, dialed his girlfriend’s number and waited for her to pick up. It rang. No response. He was beginning to get irritated by the prank, but he could never get mad at Ruth. He may be tough when it came to the cases he worked on, but he was still a softy when it came to her. He quickly killed the thought of texting his disapproval of the prank to her and decided to call someone from his team. He was a little worried about Walter. He had seemed a bit unstable when he left the conference room earlier. Chrome looked at the time; it was 5:35pm. They should be back by now, if all went well. He hoped that Walter hadn’t done anything stupid. He shook his head. There was no way that would happen. After all, that was why he had partnered Edeeth with him. The woman was as level-headed as Walter was quick-tempered. He called her cell phone. It took a while before she eventually picked the call.

“What’s your progress?” he asked without any preliminaries.

“Well, uh…sir, we are currently at the Teaching Hospital.”

“WHAT!?” Chrome’s voice climbed an octave or two. “What are you both doing there?!”

“Anderson Gyang, our suspect – he had a heart attack.”

“Oh Jeez! How did that happen?” He paused infinitesimally before adding, “Was it Walter’s doing?”

Edeeth answered carefully, “It wasn’t not entirely his fault…you know we have all been under a lot of stress.”

“Edeeth! That was exactly the reason I sent you with him. I know how irascible he can be when he starts to get stressed. You were supposed to restrain him.”

“I’m sorry I failed you, sir.”

“Tell me what happened.” After her narration of the events that led to Anderson’s incapacitation, he asked, “So, how is he?”

“He’s recovering, sir”

“And Walter?”

“Still a bit shaken, but he’ll be himself soon. I’m guessing he’s going to stay until the old man wakes up.”

“Ok, let him do that. I understand how he feels.” He paused then continued, “I need you to meet up with Jerome at the airport and assist him. He’s unto something. You can both call it a day from there. I’ll see you all here by 10am. Inform Walter as well. That will be all.” And he ended the call. He shook his head, briefly thinking about the various turns this case was taking. “All in one day,” he said aloud to himself.

He looked at the computer screen. The program was still running. The estimated time for the second stage to run its full course was nine hours. It was the longest of the three stages. He had about seven hours left to go. He decided to get back to his brainstorming. He would do that for a while and then grab some shuteye. He would have to spend the night in the lab. Even though that wouldn’t be a first for him, he still didn’t like the idea. He tried his best to relax on the lab stool he sat on and began to think.

***

Edeeth put her phone back into her pocket. The day sure isn’t going as I had hoped, she thought to herself. With the wrapping up of the initial murder case that had brought the team to Jos, she had been looking forward to flying back to the relative comfort of Abuja, to the clean orderliness of her apartment. By sunset, she had planned to be soaking inside a bubble bath, a glass of Sherry in one hand, her CD remote control in the other as she coordinated the volume of bluesy music to soothe away the stress of yet another case properly solved.

Instead, it was almost sunset, and here she was – no bubble bath, no glass of Sherry and no music – still stuck in this discomfiting environment of Plateau State.

She sighed and walked back to the ER. She got there just in time to see a nurse wheeling Anderson’s bed out of the room. Walter was still standing where he was. She walked up to him and asked what was going on.

“They are taking him to a private recovery room,” he answered. “I’ll be staying with him until he wakes up.”

“I guessed as much,” Edeeth said, almost laughing.

“Excuse me?” Walter wondered what was amusing to her.

“Oh nothing, the ‘Chief’ wanted us to go meet Jerome at the airport and help him out with his leads, but I told him you would want to stay here with Anderson until he wakes up.”

“Oh, so you do know me that well,” Walter said, giving a small rueful smile.

“Ah-ah! I saw that smile.” She pointed comically at his face.

The mirth in her gesture was infectious and Walter found his smile widening. “Go joor.”

She said, “I’m glad you’re back to yourself now. I’ll have to call Jerome to come pick me up.”

“Come pick you – why?”

“Well, Sir Lancelot, how would you leave here if I take the car with me?”

“Oh.” He paused and then added, “Ok, thanks, E – for everything…”

“You’re welcome, man,” she said, punching him lightly on the arm. “That’s what partners are for.”

And thereafter, they parted ways, with Walter following after the nurse who had wheeled Anderson down the hospital corridor, and Edeeth moving back to the lounge, phone pressed against her ear as she waited for her connection to Jerome’s number to be made.

 

January 3, 2013 | Categories: Uncategorized | 5 Comments

C.S.I: 9JA (The Jack And Jill Story: Episode 9)

The gates of the Bukuru residence of the Scotts were flung open as the black SUV belonging to the commissioner drove in and parked underneath the linoleum shade, at the far end of the compound, which protected the cars parked there from the stultifying rays of the sun. The driver got out and opened the door for his boss while one of the army personnel who manned the gate opened the other door for Monica. When she got out, she headed straight for the front door, one which was opened by an attentive steward; she walked past the steward without acknowledging him or responding to his greeting. She could hear her father loudly reprimanding the military men as she made her way to her room and locked the door behind her. She walked over to her bed and sat down. Her eyes were red and from the way she was breathing, it wouldn’t be long before another wave of tears would start falling from them. She opened the drawer on the side of her dresser. There was an envelope inside it. She opened it and brought out a piece of paper. She glanced through it, and sighed deeply. She grabbed the framed picture which sat on top of her dresser. It was that of her and Jackson, together. She looked from the picture to the paper, and whatever that was in the paper must have been some sort of connection with her dead lover, because she suddenly felt overwhelmed by a surge of emotions.

“I’m sorry…” she whispered. “I’m so sor–” She couldn’t manage it. The lump in her throat resurfaced, too thick to be swallowed, and a fat tear trickled down her cheek. Another followed, and then another. And soon, she had started to cry again. Deep, bone-crushing cries, full-body sobs. Just when she thought she couldn’t cry anymore. Something inside her gave way again, and now she sobbed without pause or let up. For several moments, her grief overtook her, and soon began to dwindle to a stop. And that was when she heard the sound of footsteps coming toward her door. She began sniffling her sobs to a stop, dabbing at her moist face when a knock sounded on her door.

“Honey, are you in there?” her father asked from behind the locked door.

Hoping to mask the fact that she’d been crying, Monica spoke in a hoarse voice, “I’m here daddy. I just need some time alone.”

“Ok, dear.” From the other side, Anthony had begun to back away from the door. Then he said again, “In a short while, I’ll be leaving for a charity dinner being organized by the country club. I was wondering if you would like to accompany me.”

“I told you dad, I want to be alone for now.”

“Ok, what about tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yes, there will be a charity golf tournament at the country club. I happen to be one of the contenders.” There was some pride in Anthony’s voice, as though he wanted to impress his own daughter.

That made Monica dredge up a small smile in amusement. “Let’s see how tomorrow goes, daddy,” she answered.

“Ok, dear. Now make sure you get some rest. Have the cook whip up something for you to eat; I know how you like not to eat when something is bothering you. In fact, I’ll instruct her to send up a tray to your room in a short while. I will be back home quite late, so don’t wait up.”

“Ok, daddy. Bye.”

“Bye, honey.”

Monica listened from behind the door as his footsteps receded down the hallway. She was about to make her way back to the bed when a sudden wave of nausea overwhelmed her. She ran into the bathroom adjoining her room and let out the contents of her stomach into the toilet bowl. She threw up some more of her lunch before standing up; she flushed, and then washed her face and rinsed her mouth in the wash basin. She looked at herself in the mirror in front of her. A thought fleeted through her mind. She had to do the smart thing. She was going to have to run away. She was going to run away from everything – the police, her father, the ghost of Jackson…from it all. She had just left the bathroom when she got the nauseous feeling again. “Maybe tomorrow,” she muttered as she fled back into the bathroom.

***

Walter drove erratically down the highway towards the Kuru suburbs where Sir Anderson resided. He kept swearing under his breath as he overtook vehicle after vehicle. Luckily, the traffic was light.

After checking to make sure her seatbelt was safely secured for the umpteenth time, Edeeth said, “Dude, take it easy.”

“I know, I know!” he snapped back as he swerved past another car. The look on his face was enough to tell Edeeth what was going on in his mind. She was about to say something when Walter suddenly blurted, “I can’t believe I didn’t realize it from the beginning!”

“Come on, Wally,” Edeeth tried pacifying him. “There was no way we would have guessed. He just didn’t look the part of a killer.”

“Yeah…well…I know” Walter muttered, not wanting to be mollified. He looked at the digital clock on the dash board. The time was 4:35pm. “This time, he’s not going to get away from me!” he gritted out as he punched the accelerator.

***

Jerome was in the forensic lab when he remembered he left his note on the table in the conference room, after the meeting they had. He was clad in a white lab coat and was wearing protective goggles and latex gloves. He was already on the second stage of the analysis – since the Abraham Smith Method was a process of three stages – when he had the urge to retrieve his notebook from the conference room. He made to stand up, and saw Chrome walk into the lab. He was holding a notebook in his hand. It was Jerome’s notebook. Chrome took one of the lab coats hanging on the wall close to the exit and put it on. Then he walked up to where Jerome sat and placed the notebook on the table in front of him.

“This is yours, correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Interesting.” Chrome paused for a moment before continuing, “I went through your notes. You seem to have a lead on something, care to share what it is?”

“Well, sir,” Jerome began, “when you asked me to get information on incoming flights to Jos from Uyo, I had a hunch.” He paused to check the equipment he was using to run the analysis, and then continued, “While I waited for my contact at the airport to return my call, I thought about the circumstances surrounding Jackson Essien and his family. It’s not every day an entire family lineage is wiped out without any cause. I’m also an orphan, so I could relate with this victim in a sense.” He switched off the centrifuge which was being used to separate a solution vital to the analysis, punched some keys on a keyboard which was linked to the computer beside him and went on, “I’ve often wondered about the way my parents died. I mean, I knew how they did, but I always felt there was more to their death than meets the eye. That’s why I became an officer. Something about that got me thinking. How did Jackson’s parents die? Investigations showed it was an accident, but I still wasn’t satisfied with that, so I called the Akwa-Ibom State police command to send a detailed report on everything they have concerning the case, including pictures of fingerprints found at the scene…anything that could be of importance.”

When he was done talking, Chrome nodded and said, “That was very good thinking, Jerome. So how soon do we expect their reply?”

“Well…uh, sir, since I mentioned to the inspector in charge of the command that you were the one asking for the information, he assured me that I would get it in about two hours. So that should be in the next thirty minutes.”

Chrome smiled. “That was quick thinking.” He glanced at the analytical equipment that was in front of Jerome and asked, “So where are we on the DNA analysis?”

Jerome switched on a monitor and said, “I’m through with the first stage of the analysis.” He pointed to the screen, which had a series of numbers rolling down at a very fast pace. “I’ve fed the information into the computer. The A. Smith program is already running and we should be getting results in a couple of hours.”

Chrome looked at the screen for a few seconds and said, “I’ll take over here. You work on your leads. Get to the airport and find out what you can from there. When you’re done there, you can call it a day. Report all your findings to me in the morning.”

“Ok, sir,” Jerome replied as he took off his goggles and gloves. He grabbed his notebook from the table and before he left the lab, he hung up the lab coat he was wearing.

***

The time was 4:55pm when Walter pulled up to the gate that enclosed the quarters of both the murder victim and Anderson Gyang. He parked right in front of the gate, sealing it off. There was a taxi inside, parked in front of Sir Anderson’s flat. Edeeth got out of the car first and walked over the Walter’s side as he got out.

She stood in front of him, said, “Now be cool. Let’s handle this professionally.” And then, she walked towards Sir Anderson’s flat.

At that moment, the man came out of his house bearing a large bag and dragging a suitcase on the ground. He was surprised to see the officers and the look on his face said it all. “Officers, it’s a surprise to see you both again so soon. Hope all is well.” He dragged the suitcase to the cab and the cab driver opened the boot.

Walter seemed ready to lunge forward and, as if reading her partner’s mind, Edeeth immediately stepped in front of him and said, “That’s one heavy suitcase, sir. Travelling somewhere, are we?”

Anderson divided a patronizing look between the two of them before answering, “As a matter of fact, yes. I’m travelling somewhere. And before you ask, the destination is none of your business.” He flicked a meaningful glance at his wristwatch and continued, “I seem to be running late. Now if you’ll excuse, I have to get going before I miss my flight.”

Walter was growing impatient and Edeeth could sense this. She spoke again before he could, “Sir, we are still investigating the whereabouts of Jackson Essien.”

Anderson stopped in his tracks. “Whereabouts?” he said.

“Yes, his whereabouts. We came earlier today and asked you a few questions about him, since he wasn’t at home.”

“Ah yes, I recall. Well, he’s still not at home…and I doubt he will be back tonight.” There was something faintly surreptitious about the smirk that now parted his lips. Before Edeeth could comment on the source of his amusement, the smile vanished, and he opened the door of the taxi and slipped the bag he was holding into it. He then straightened and said very coolly to the officers, “If that will be all, could you please get your automobile out of the way? I really need to be on my way.”

The affected impatience in his voice was the last straw for Walter. He walked past Edeeth, planted himself before the other man and said in a raised tone, “We know you killed Jackson!”

Anderson stopped midway entering the vehicle. He straightened again and shot a puzzled look at the belligerent officer in front of him. “What did you say?”

Either he truly was surprised, Edeeth thought as she watched the man’s reaction to her partner’s outburst, or he was an actor worth an Academy Award.

“I said we have overwhelming evidence which shows that you murdered Jackson Essien,” Walter said steely.

“Jackson…murdered?” Anderson echoed the two words, his voice not much louder than a whisper.

Before Walter could speak, Edeeth jumped in. “Yes sir, we found his body in the early hours of today. That’s what we are investigating.”

Anderson took a step back from the cab and kept on muttering, “Jackson….dead?” His breathing was becoming labored and he began to tremble. Edeeth knew something was wrong, but Walter still wasn’t having any of that. He charged forward but Edeeth snatched at his arm, her firm grip pulling him up short.

He shot her a look of annoyance. “Why are we wasting time? We know he did it. Let’s bring him in and end this charade!”

Edeeth’s voice was quiet and hard when she said, “I told you to keep cool!” She was about to say something else when she heard a sudden increase in the labored breathing coming from Anderson. Walter heard it too, and both of them turned to see that the elderly man sweating profusely. His body was weaving dangerously where he stood, and the taxi-driver’s worried gaze was on him too.

The man kept on mumbling, “Jackson…it can’t be…dead…no….it can’t be…”

“Calm down sir…please calm down…” Edeeth lifted placating hands as she moved closer to him.

But the shock he’d been hit with was apparently too much for his sixty-five year old body. He suddenly collapsed with a heavy thud on the ground. Edeeth ran to him and unbuttoned his shirt. “Oh no! He’s going into cardiac arrest!” She looked at Walter, who was stunned at what had just transpired, and said, “Don’t just stand there, call an ambulance!”

As if broken free of a trance, Walter sprinted to their car and radioed for an ambulance. Edeeth stayed with the old man as the taxi driver stood a few feet away, visibly shaken.

December 28, 2012 | Categories: Uncategorized | 4 Comments

Conditioned Air

Mr. Chikezie Smith has always lived with fear. His phobia for heights, drowning, cats and spiders are but a few of the many things that comprised his ever growing encyclopedia of fear. Growing up in an abusive home didn’t help his predicament much, either. He had always been always afraid of his father who hit him often at the slightest provocation, and his mother who always had a word of abuse or another to rain down on him every now and then; the woman’s idea of punishing her son was to smear Robb and pepper on his eyes. He also became afraid of going to school because he got picked on by bigger and older kids, due to his smallish stature. But fear also became the driving force behind his transformation into the man he later turned out to be. Over the years, all through his secondary and University days, he studied very hard and made good results. He was determined to break free from the bondage of his parents’ continual abuse. He also subjected himself to a grueling exercise and bodybuilding regimen and learned karate, so as to defend himself against bullies. Now, he stood at 6ft 2inches with the physique of a male model worthy of the Mr. Universe contest, and armed with a Bachelor’s degree in Accountancy, followed by a Master’s degree in Business Administration. It didn’t take long for him to climb up the ladder of success in the multinational firm he worked with as the first assistant to the Chief Accountant of the Headquarters in Lagos. With such a record, not only did he command respect from his peers in the company, but he also struck fear into the hearts of his juniors. He would often give a conceited smirk whenever he thought about the irony. He even went as far as changing his last name from the family name to Smith just to buttress his point of being a man free from fear. A move that didn’t go down well with his parents; but he didn’t care about their opinion anymore. But he was constantly hounded by talks of the animosity that thrived between him and his parents each time he went to visit his siblings. At a point, he became paranoid, his suspicions kicking in over the thought that his kin could be members of some secret society, and was out to get revenge on him through some diabolic means.

Yes, Mr. Chikezie Smith had always lived with fear. Old ones faded with time and then new ones arose. That is the cycle all humans have to face in their daily living. He had been able to live with his fears and learn from them, and judging by the way his life had progressed, it was clear that he was doing a good job.

But tonight, something was quite different from the fear he felt. It felt like an accumulated mass of different kinds of fear had been dropped on him. He hadn’t felt such fear before, not even when his father would yell his name as a signal to another round of beatings, or when he would see a group of bullies waiting for him down the deserted road after school.

It was the fear of all fears.

Cold shivers ran down his spine as he tightened the grip on his Glock pistol with his right hand and clutched his Bible firmly on his chest with his left. He made his way down the hallway of his apartment, a tastefully furnished 3-bedroom apartment situated in a sparsely populated area in the state. He had chosen this apartment because of its location. The building was located very close to the expressway which was very convenient for Chikezie, as it was a straight commute to his office. The apartment was quite extensive and the hallway was well lit, but tonight, Chikezie could barely see beyond his nose. It was as though his fear was so thick it darkened his vision. Large droplets of sweat cascaded down his face from the crown of his head in torrents and dampened his sleeping-shirt. His legs quaked as he made his way towards the kitchen, in search of the shadowy creature he had seen run in there from the corner of his eye.

Just a few minutes ago he had felt a presence, like someone – or something – was in the house with him. He had immediately made his way to his room and – thanks to the Senate’s recent signing of the “Citizen’s Firearm” bill into law – took out his pistol from underneath his bed. He went through the entire house and found nothing. He was just about to give up when he noticed the shadow for the first time. It disappeared behind his couch in the living room just before he could make out what it was. He cautiously walked up to the couch and peered behind it, only to find nothing but his suit which he had tossed onto the couch as he entered into his living room that evening after a hard day’s work. He thought back to earlier in the day. It had gone very well. In fact, it had been one of the best days of his life.

***

He woke up that morning and prepared himself for work. He felt good. He had just finished refurnishing his apartment and installing air conditioners and new beds in two of the three bedrooms in the apartment. When he stepped outside his compound he saw the early morning fog which was characteristic of the Harmattan season; December had swung in with gusto. He loved the Harmattan. He loved its significance – ushering in the festive season and signaling the close of another year.

He set out to work and made it there on time. All seemed to be going very well throughout the day. Even though he had a 32inch flat screen T.V. in his office, he barely watched anything on it. Only when his girlfriend dropped in would he have the urge to see what was on the tube. Even when she visited today, they had lunch together. When they walked out of his office building, he noticed a change in the air. It was a little too hot for the Harmattan. Paying no mind to his observation, he drove his girlfriend to the nearby restaurant and they had lunch. They discussed a lot of things afterwards (mostly about their future together), and thereafter, he dropped her off at her office, and then bought some groceries from a convenience store close to his office just before the end of his lunch break.

It was a Monday, so work was slow and the whole day was filled with meetings. At the close of work by 5:00pm, he and some of his peers and superiors remained behind for another hour to brainstorm on some issues pertaining to the future of the company. They brought the meeting to a close with a few drinks to celebrate the close of another profitable year. By the time he entered into the elevator and hit the button for the parking lot, it was already 7:15pm. He got off the elevator and walked into the parking lot. He got inside his car, turned on the ignition and drove out of the enclosure. He remembered to tip the parking attendants generously.

On his way, he listened to music from his collection of classic soul music. The music was so soothing to him that he closed his eyes for the briefest of moments to better savor the sweet melody from Sade’s Sweetest Taboo. All of a sudden, he snapped his eyes open just in time to see a black cat run across the road. He swerved expertly, narrowly missing the feline by a whisker. With his heart pounding, he chuckled as he thought about what just happened.

By the time he got to his apartment building, he had forgotten the incident. He got to his front door, turned the lock and got into the living room, switching on the air conditioner as he made his way across the room. It came on with a hissing sound which meant that the compressor was up and running. He was proud of himself for being one of the first to purchase the latest model of the ‘green energy’ air conditioners in Nigeria. He had always been enthusiastic about saving the planet. He threw his suit on one of the couches and switched on the TV just in time to hear the news about the latest solar flare which took place earlier in the day, which resulted in increased temperatures across the northern hemisphere and release of microwaves along some points across the tropic of Cancer. He was listening to the concluding part of the news when he first got the feeling he wasn’t alone.

***

Now he was chasing this shadow through the whole house. It was when he felt a cold hand faintly brush against the back of his neck, bristling the hairs on the skin, that he realized that he wasn’t dealing with the natural.

He remembered the cat. Yes, the black cat!

The thought occurred to him that this must be the doing of someone after his life. He walked into the kitchen, but he didn’t see anyone, or anything suspicious. A drop of sweat fell from his face and hit his already dampened shirt, and on the spot it dispersed on the fabric, something moved. He felt more wriggling sensations pop up beneath his shirt and, in a moment of panic, he lifted his shirt to see what was going on. He gave out a yell when his eyes caught sight of what was moving beneath his clothing. Hundreds of tiny spiders crawled all over his torso and were making their way toward his face. It was as though they came out from under his boxers. He tried to beat them off, landing blow after blow on himself with the butt of his gun on his mid-section. Some fell off, but a lot more advanced. He felt their tiny pincers dig into his flesh and he panicked all the more. He looked around the kitchen for anything he could use and found a flask filled with hot water. He grabbed it and without thinking, poured all its content onto his body. He winced from the pain as the water singed his skin. He fell to the floor and to his greatest surprise, the spiders were gone. Vanished. Not even a single dead one lay anywhere on the floor. All that remained was pain from the scalding. He didn’t understand what was going on.

Before he could gather his thoughts, he saw the shadowy creature from earlier on float by and disappear through the hallway. He reached for his gun, which had fallen to the floor during his episode with the spiders, and chased after the dark enemy. He didn’t care about being cautious anymore. Each step he took was a painful one. He knew the burns he suffered from the scalding hot water would become infected if he didn’t treat it soon, but first he had to get rid of the cause of his sudden misfortune. He ran into the living room and saw that the front door was left wide open. He could have sworn that he locked the door behind him when he got into the flat a few hours ago. It could only mean that the creature had made its way outside. He couldn’t let it escape.

He ran straight for the open door and just before he got out, he felt a crushing pain on his face and hands. It was as though some kind of barrier had prevented him from going outside. His enemies were really at work. It took him several seconds to recover from the shock of the collision he had just experienced, just in time for him to realize that there was no barrier to begin with. He had run head-long into his front door which was locked tight. He was bleeding profusely from his broken nose, he had cracked his upper lip and his head ached badly.

He couldn’t understand anything anymore.

He suddenly felt the walls of the apartment were closing in on him, as though the entire house was out to crush him. He ran to the door and kicked his way out. Pain shot through his entire body as the injuries he had sustained began to throb. He ran out of his apartment, made his way down the two flights of stairs he used every day, seeing as he lived on the first floor of the 3-storey building. He ran toward the main gate of the compound. The ground seemed harder than usual, and right before his eyes, it began to undulate. He wobbled as the concrete waves made it difficult to move. He tripped and fell to the ground, crushing his left side on the hard concrete. He moaned in pain. He knew the swellings around his upper body, from the hot water bath, must have burst and peeled off by now.

He looked up towards the main gate and saw two figures standing there. One was that of a man and the other a woman. He narrowed his eyelids so that he could get a clearer picture of who these two intruders were. He lurched to his feet and limped toward them. As the hazy images got clearer, he recognized them both instantly.

His parents!

He was horrified. His father was wearing what seemed to be a uniform, and he immediately sussed it was the uniform that belonged to the secret society he was a member of. He had always been suspicious of them and now they had proven him right – that they truly were after his life. He cringed as the figure representing his father raised its hand in a terrifying manner towards him. He knew what would come next. The beatings he used to experience as a child. He let out a desperate shout, slipped out the gun and shot the towering cultist.

The second figure, which represented his mother, let out a deafening scream. He felt it was just like old times. She was about to scream abuses at him and torture him with pepper and Robb ointment. He jumped backwards while squeezing off shots from his Glock pistol at the banshee. He pulled the trigger for the fifth time just before he hit the floor. He heard both evil doers whimper as they fell to and bled on the floor. He knew he had to get away from here. Cultists always looked out for their own, and they would be after him in no time.

He tried to compose himself and go back to his apartment, but as he turned around, he saw the ground ahead of him begin to undulate again. The nightmare wasn’t over yet. The waves were bigger than the last time and they rolled towards him. He ran out the main gate, into the street. He ran as fast as his tired legs could go and went as far as his injured body could take him. As he ran, he noticed some creatures that resembled dogs were running after him. He looked back and saw they weren’t dogs, but huge cats. All were black, blood dripping from the side of their fanged mouths. He screamed and shot at them as he kept running towards the expressway. One of the ‘cats’ gained on him. He whirled around and shot it at point blank range. Twice. It dropped to the floor in a heap of smoldering flesh but the waves and the other cats kept following him until he got to the expressway.

He stopped to catch his breath and suddenly noticed they weren’t following anymore. He stood there and raised his head to the sky in triumph. He was about to start rejoicing in his heart when all of a sudden, the highway disappeared under a bright light. He turned towards the source of the light and saw a gigantic spider charging towards him. He screamed at the top of his voice and let off five rounds from his pistol at the mega-sized arachnid. The bullets had no effect as the spider opened what seemed to be a mouth to reveal huge Chelicerae.

It kept coming at him, closer and closer.

The pain assaulting his body, coupled with the fear he felt at that point, rooted him to the spot. He knew he had no way of evading it. He looked down at his gun and he knew he had nothing more than two bullets left in the magazine. He raised the gun up to his head and thought it would be better to die by his hand than end up in the belly of such a beast.

However, with four of its eight eyes blazing bright, the creature got to him just before he could pull the trigger.

***

*Part of a news report from Channels television’s Evening-News-Desk on Thursday 9:00pm*

“…reports indicate that the victim, one Mr. Chikezie Smith, went on a rampage in the late hours of Monday. He apparently ran out of his apartment building, located on Saliu Street, off the Lagos/Abeokuta expressway, and shot the security guard and a woman, who has been identified as a commercial sex worker. He later made a mad dash toward the expressway where he shot down a neighbor’s watchdog before standing in the middle of the highway, where he was knocked down by an oncoming luxurious bus.

Autopsy report carried out on his remains show that his body was heavily scarred with second degree burns and he had an unusually high amount of adrenaline in his blood. Investigations carried out at the scene of the disturbance by the newly inaugurated C.S.I. team, revealed that there was a large amount of a strange gas in the air. The gas was said to have very strong hallucinogenic properties which caused the victim – Mr. Chikezie – to visualize most of his terrible fears.

The gas was traced back to a leakage from the so-called ‘green energy’ Air-conditioner which the victim had recently installed.

These Air-conditioners, which are being produced in China under the brand name SongLoo Air-conditioners, are imported by Odegbami & Sons Limited. They utilize a new type of refrigerant which is said to be eco-friendly, but unstable at high temperatures. Investigators claim that yesterday’s solar flare may have been the trigger that set off the reaction and turned the seemingly harmless gas into notorious nightmarish fumes. Since it’s still unclear as to what other side effects this activated gas may have on humans, citizens who have purchased the fore mentioned Air-conditioner should refrain from switching them on, as they are all being recalled by the marketers. So far the number of deaths recorded from exposure to the gas is said to be 4 within the Lagos vicinity.

Investigations are still ongoing to determine what caused the leakage of the gas into the air filters, but one thing is clear, the time taken for continuous exposure to the said gas to have such disastrous effects is approximately twenty minutes.”

***

Mallam Abdullah Halim wasn’t a happy man. Though he was a successful business man who hobnobbed with the cream of the crop in society, he still wasn’t happy. The reason for his unhappiness waited for him at home every night after a hard day’s job. He despised his wife, a feeling that was mutual. Yet they lived together under the same roof, had been doing so for the seven years they’d been married, in a bid to please their parents, who had arranged the union. He hated her nagging, her whining and other traits she exhibited that didn’t go down well with him.

Tonight he came home to find that she had already gone to bed. The time was 8:30pm and he wondered how angry she must have been to make her go to bed so early (after all it was a Tuesday night and most of her favorite soap-operas would be showing on the television). She had left a note on the living room table telling him where to find his dinner.

He went to his room, which was down the hall from hers, in their beautiful six-room duplex. He took off his kaftan. He looked at his dresser and spotted the tray of covered dishes which was his dinner. He turned on the air-conditioner in his room and it jerked on with a hissing sound. He looked at the machine for a while. He had just bought it, after much persuasion from the young lady who came to his office to market the product. Not only did he get a good bargain, he also got a Friday night he would never forget in a hurry. He smiled at the air-conditioner as the cool air blew towards him and sent a wave of memories of that Friday night’s pleasures with the young lady-marketer.

He looked at the time and it was 8:45pm. He decided to snooze a little before the 9:00pm news came up. He never missed the news. He lay down on the bed, shut his eyes, and reopened them at the alarm he had set. The time was 9:20pm.

He got up with a jolt. For some unknown reason, he was sweating profusely. He kept having thoughts of his wife being out to kill him tonight. He shook his head in an attempt to expunge the thoughts from his mind, as though the thoughts would fall right out of his ears. He switched on the television in his room just in time to hear the anchorwoman for the evening news reporting the tail end of the headline news. He had just missed the part about the recall of the air-conditioners with the brand name, SongLoo. The same brand the lady-marketer persuaded him to buy. He got off his bed and felt slight wave of dizziness.

He still couldn’t shake the feeling of his wife wanting him dead. His mind began to travel. Why did she go to bed so early? Why did she leave a note for him instead coming out to greet him? Why did she leave his food in his room, instead of the dining table? More and more questions about her behavior tonight kept flooding his mind and feeding his paranoia. Something caught his eye at the periphery, and he could have sworn he saw a shadow very close to the dresser. The dresser, where the food his wife made for him lay. He cautiously walked over to the dresser and gently tried to open one of the plates on the tray. He held the lid, and lifted it up.

He wasn’t ready for what he saw. Hundreds of worms crawled all around the plate in a pulsating mass. He staggered backward and knocked his foot underneath the dresser, sending the worms flying in different directions. He hated anything that slithered. Snakes. Worms. The like. At that moment, the large mass of worms, which had fallen to the floor, began to part ways at the center. A head reared up from in-between the mass and instantly Abdullah knew what it was. Just like the one that chased him down as a child growing up in the northern part of Nigeria, a black mamba slithered out from the midst of the heap of worms. Abdullah clutched at the wall behind him in a desperate attempt to flee from the menacing reptile.

Just then, the room to his door was flung wide open and he saw a figure standing there. It was his wife…or something that looked like her. It had her face but its pitch-black body looked like that of a bird and her arms looked like those of a lion and ended with sharp claws on each finger. When it/she called his name, it sounded so evil that he clasped his palms over his ears, attempting to block out the sound. He saw a row of jagged teeth in its/her mouth. He screamed at the top of his lungs as the creatures before him came closer. He looked around the room frantically and his gaze came down on his dagger. It had fallen off the dresser when he knocked it over. The creatures came closer still. He took a deep breath, and lunged toward the dagger.

December 25, 2012 | Categories: Uncategorized | 4 Comments

C.S.I: 9JA (The Jack And Jill STory: Episode 8)

At the top of the hill, Chrome and Walter sifted through the crime scene. Making sure they didn’t miss a thing. Their eyes darting this way and that. Walter was slightly acrophobic, so he stayed well away from the drop-offs lining the hilltop. They worked from opposite ends gradually making their way to the center. They couldn’t get any clear pattern of footprints because the scene had been heavily disturbed by some uniformed police officers before they arrived in the morning. They had to make do with finding something more solid than footprints. The wind atop the hill was quite strong and it sent Chrome’s tie flapping like a sail as he crouched down to peer underneath a bunch of cacti growing near a rock. Something there had caught his eye, something small and pink.

“Hey, Wally, over here,” he called out. When Walter got to his side, he pointed to the object and asked, “What do you make of this?”

Walter brought out a pair of tweezers and picked up the object. After careful scrutiny, he said “I think it’s…a broken piece of…artificial nail?”

“BINGO!” Chrome replied with some excitement creeping into his voice. “That’s exactly what it is, and that’s exactly what I had hoped to find.”

“I’m sorry sir, I don’t follow,” Walter said has he bagged the piece.

“You see, when I first checked out Monica Scott, I noticed her right hand was balled in a fist while the left was not. I needed to confirm my suspicion by getting a better look. So I shook her hand before she left and got a better look. Her left hand had well manicured artificial nails while the right hand didn’t. The only time a woman removes the artificial nails on one hand, without removing that of the other hand, is when a nail is broken.”

“Wow, sir, you learnt all that from Ruth?” Walter joked.

“Amazing what you glean from the fairer sex when you’re taking a breather.” He winked at Walter and both men laughed. Chrome continued, “Let’s get back to the station lab. The glue used in fixing the nails might have a piece of the wearer’s nail tissue. If we put a rush on it, we can have a DNA report by morning. I bet my ridiculous government salary that it belongs to Monica.”

“Luckily for us, Jos has the equipment we need to get this done quickly,” Walter chipped in.

*The world of forensic science had undergone tremendous advancements over the years, especially in the area of DNA analysis. About five years ago, a Jewish scientist, Prof. Abraham Smith, of Stanford University in California, USA (a leading school in the research in DNA), was able to develop a method which accurately cut short the time taken in completing a DNA analysis. With the help of a group of programmers in India, he developed a computer program which reduced the time taken in the screening process, DNA quantitation, PCR (polymer chain reaction) Step Calculation and DNA typing, thereby increasing the accuracy of the analysis by reducing human error. This method was currently being used by most law enforcement agencies around the world. A few years before the breakthrough, it usually took at least seventy-two hours to get a printed result for the analysis. This was done for urgent cases, but it was also very expensive to undertake. With the new method, it would take just a little over fifteen hours to complete an analysis for an urgent case.

And at the moment, the investigation of Jackson Essien’s murder was as urgent as any other.

Within the three years of the existence of the C.S.I. department of the Federal Police Force of Nigeria, four of its personnel had taken training courses on this subject. The Federal Government also made it compulsory within the time that all citizens should submit samples of their blood for DNA identification, including fingerprints and toe-prints. This was carried out in the last nationwide census. This move led to incredible breakthroughs in the solving of some cases which were once labeled as unsolved. Some cases, not all.

Within minutes, the two officers walked down the hill and drove away from the crime scene.

***

Back at the autopsy laboratory, Manny was getting his report ready for Chrome when Stacey walked in all excited. “Dr. Emmanuel!” she called out

“Stacey, how many times have I told you? You don’t need to be so formal. Call me Manny, please,” Manny cut in.

“Oh sorry, Manny, force of habit.”

“No problem. Now, what’s got your knickers on fire?” Manny attempted to tease.

“Well, I went back to the forensic lab and it turned out the computer recreation of the murder weapon came out faster than we anticipated.” She handed a file over to him and continued, “Also, the material we recovered from the wound on the corpses head is aluminum. The thickness corresponds with the specifications used the coating of Golf clubs.”

Manny was flipping through the pages of the report in the file as Stacey continued, “From the dimension fed into the computer simulator, it was able to give us a three dimensional image of what kind of golf club it was that inflicted such a wound.”

Manny himself was a golf enthusiast and he knew immediately what the kind of golf club it was at first sight of the computer image.  He closed the file and sighed as he said, “It’s a 9-iron golf club, the strongest of all clubs used in the game of golf. A terrible weapon as well.”

***

Sir Anderson Gyang looked at his wrist watch as he stood in front of the compound which house his flat and that of the late Jackson Essien. The time was a 3:45pm. His flight was scheduled to leave by 6:30pm for Uyo. He took a look at Jackson’s flat. The front door was still locked since morning. Sir Anderson smiled. It wasn’t your everyday-old-man kind of smile; there was something coy about it. He turned away and headed into his house.

I have to start packing if I don’t want to miss my flight, he thought to himself.

Once more he turned to Jackson’s flat and spoke with a whisper, “Adios Jackson. My work here is done.”

He walked into the front door of his flat and shut it behind him.

***

Edeeth was waiting in the WAR Room when Jerome walked in. The nickname “WAR-room” was given to the C.S.I conference room which had been converted from a large storage room within the building. It was given the name because it looked like a battle had been waged in it. There were files here and there and a lot of things were out of place. Within the last year, the Federal Government had made it compulsory that all State police commands should have facilities in place for a C.S.I team. Jerome was glancing through some notes he had taken down and almost bumped into the table in the center of the room.

“Watch where you are going, nerd,” Edeeth joked

Jerome made a funny face at Edeeth before settling down on the chair next to the one she sat on. The face made Edeeth chuckle. Jerome placed the note on top of the table and continued glancing through it. He noticed Edeeth had a file in front of her.

“You’ve got the info on his background already?” he asked her.

“Not everything, but this is good for now.”

“Ok, I’m still waiting on my source at the airport,” Jerome said as he resumed glancing at his notes, “but I had a hunch and called on the Akwa-Ibom State police command.”

“Oh?” Edeeth arched an amused brow. “You had a hunch? Well, I guess a bit of Chrome is rubbing off on you.”

Jerome smiled. “It does seem his personality is rubbing off on all of us.”

“True. Now, what was your hunch about?”

Jerome was about to answer when Chrome walked in through the door. He was closely followed by Walter, whose instant scowl betrayed his displeasure at seeing Jerome all alone – and sitting so close – with Edeeth. Walter had an extreme case of the green-eyed monster when it came to what he considered his.

The duo stood up as their superior officer walked to the end of the table and sat down. Walter was about to leave the room when Chrome called him back. “Wally, before you get started on the analysis, let’s table our findings.”

“OK, sir,” Walter replied. He returned and pulled up a chair on Edeeth’s other side.

Chrome leaned forward. “So far, Walter and I have found some interesting things at the crime scene.” He nodded at Walter who placed the evidence bag on the table. Edeeth picked it up first and smiled. Chrome continued, “We found that at the top of the hill, at the spot where we figured Jackson fell from.”

Edeeth passed the bag to Jerome. Walter brought out his digital camera and played back the pictures they had taken earlier. He showed them to Edeeth as he said, “We also found tire tracks and foot prints not far from the hill. We believe it was left there by the perpetrator because the foot prints go to and fro the spot where Jackson’s body was found.”

Jerome was about to collect the camera from Edeeth when his cell phone rang. He looked at the display and saw that it was Deborah Banks. He excused himself from the gathering and went just outside the office to receive the call. Chrome looked at Edeeth and asked, “Did you get anything interesting on the background of our dead friend?”

“Oh yes I did.” She opened the file in front of her. “Jackson Essien was the only child of Mr. and Mrs. Josiah and Rebecca Essien. As we already know, his parents are also late. They both died from a car crash two years ago. His father was an industrialist and his mother was a lecturer with the University of Uyo.” She passed a sheet of paper to Chrome. “That is company profile for E.G. Group of Companies. It’s a very large firm with interests in oil and gas, import and export of goods and so many other ventures –” She was cut short with Jerome’s re-entry into the room.

The man started speaking at once, “That was my contact at the airport.” He returned to his seat as Edeeth resumed talking.

Chrome was the one who interrupted her this time. “Sorry, Edeeth, but I’d like to hear what Jerome’s contact said.” He motioned to Jerome.

“Well, um…my contact has it on authority that the commissioner’s name was in the manifesto on the last flight from Uyo to Jos. He travelled in the business class. However, the sources at the Jos airport have no recollection of him coming through the arrivals gate.”

Chrome nodded and said, “Ask your sources if we can get a copy of the manifesto for the last flight from Uyo to Jos for yesterday. We would like copies for both business class and economy class.”

“Will do so, sir.”

Chrome looked at Edeeth and said, “Sorry about that, E. Please continue.”

“As I was saying sir, the E.G. Group of Companies is a very powerful company. They have their headquarters in Abuja and other branches in Uyo, Lagos and even here in Jos, which is where Jackson was supposed to start working next month.” She paused for effect before continuing, “The Company was created by two friends in the early nineties. Mr. Josiah Essien and his very close friend…” She looked at Walter before ending the sentence “…Mr. Anderson Gyang.”

The look of surprise written all over Walter’s face was enough to tell Chrome that both Walter and Edeeth knew who this Anderson Gyang fellow was. “Who is Mr. Anderson Gyang?” he immediately asked.

It was Walter who answered. “He was the man who identified himself as Jackson’s neighbor when we went over to his house earlier today. We would never have suspected he had any connections with Jackson.” Walter put a hand on his jaw and played with his beards. “That is very interesting.”

“That’s not even the interesting part,” Edeeth chipped in. “It turns out that both Josiah Essien and Anderson Gyang had equal shares of the company, 40% apiece. The remaining 20% was owned by five other investors. So the Board of Directors is comprised of these seven individuals.” Edeeth showed Walter and Jerome the copy of the document she received from the C.A.C. “When I got a hold of this information, I called one of the company’s directors and enquired of the validity of the information. He validated it and went on to give me more info.” She paused again, this time to see how interested her audience was in her story. She relished the attention being showed her at that moment.

“Are you waiting for a drum roll here?” Jerome interjected wryly.

A chuckle rippled around the table. Edeeth smiled and said, “He told me that Josiah and Anderson had a falling-out about three years ago. It was a very serious one and both parties never spoke to each other after that, not even during board meetings. Mr. Anderson relocated to Jos and headed the branch office here.”

Chrome sat up on his chair and returned the paper he was holding back to Edeeth. A hush fell on the gathering, and each individual mulled his thoughts for a moment.

Walter broke the ice when he suddenly stood up. “I have to get started on this.” He grabbed the evidence bag from the table and was about to leave the room when Stacey sauntered in. She was carrying a folder under her left arm which she placed on the table.

“Good evening, officers,” she greeted cheerily.

“Good evening, Stacey,” Walter and Jerome chorused smilingly.

“How you doing, Stacey?” Edeeth asked.

“I’m doing fine, E. Thanks for asking.” Stacey turned to Chrome and said in a reasonably subdued tone, “Good evening, Chrome – sir…” Something about Chrome’s presence intimidated her; it also didn’t help that she nursed a crush on him.

“Yes Stacey, what’s up? Did Manny find anything else?”

“Yes, Manny – I mean, Dr. Emmanuel…he sent me here.” She opened the folder in her hand and passed copies of her superior’s report to the officers – first to Chrome, then to the others. “As you can see from the reports you are holding, we have deduced the origin and composition of the metal object that was found within the wound on the victim’s head. It is aluminum and from its density we deduced it’s the kind usually used in coating sports equipment.”

“What kind of sports equipment?” Jerome asked

“If you flip to the next page” – papers rustled as they flipped – “you will see that, with the aid of the 3D computer diagram, the most likely sports equipment is a –”

“9-iron golf club,” Chrome cut in before she could finish.

“Yes sir, that’s what we think it is too,” Stacey said, smiling.

There was a brief hush again; it lasted infinitesimally before, as if on cue, both Walter and Edeeth exclaimed, “Oh shit!”

They looked at each other and Walter tossed the evidence bag at Jerome. “Here, Jay, you run the analysis.”  He turned to Chrome, who already knew what he was going to ask and nodded in approval.

“You get going,” he said. “Jay will run the DNA analysis. Edeeth, you go with Walter”

Edeeth was on her feet, and both officers made their way out the conference room and towards the building’s exit.

 

 

 

*This is a fiction story, so the statement made here is also fiction. Nobody of such repute exists, and if they do, this is pure coincidence. There are new breakthroughs in the world of genetics and DNA analysis. So far none has been able to reduce the time taken to complete said analysis. We hope in the nearest future it would be achievable.

December 25, 2012 | Categories: Uncategorized | Leave a comment

C.S.I: 9JA (The Jack And Jill Story: Episode 7)

The commissioner’s car sped down the Jos/Abuja expressway, towards the Bukuru residence of the Scotts. Even though only a few yards separated Anthony and Monica Scott in the back seat of the car, it seemed as though a chasm was yawning wide open between them. The young woman stared unseeingly out the window at the passing scenery. And judging by the set look on his face, Anthony wasn’t in an amiable mood either.

“I told you not to go to the police!” he suddenly burst out. He turned to face his daughter. “Do you know what kind of unnecessary publicity you have brought upon yourself? You are very lucky that I already had an engagement here in Jos. Who knows what those officers might have subjected you to?”

Monica made no response. She kept on staring out through the window. Anthony leaned toward her, and that was when he saw her tears. They streamed steadily down her cheeks, giving a silence to her grief that was poignant. Touched by it, Anthony held her head softly and gently drew her to his arms.

“There, there, my dear, I’m sorry for being hard on you,” he consoled. Her sobs began to gain some volume, and her father added, “I know you loved him so much. I promise you that whoever is responsible will surely pay for this!”

For a moment, she said nothing. Then she broke the embrace, rested her teary gaze on her father and husked, “Thank you, daddy.”

“You are welcome, my dear.”

During this time, the scar-faced driver kept on eyeing them through the rearview mirror. When his boss looked in his direction, he averted the gaze.

“Dapo,” Anthony called.

“Sir,” the driver answered.

“Get us home quickly.”

“Ok sir.”

And the driver stepped on the gas pedal.

***

Walter pulled up his car on the far end of the road, which wasn’t tarred, and led to the hills. Chrome was the first to step out of the car as Walter killed the engine. The sun was scorching. Chrome had his shades on and he looked around to take in the entire landscape. Walter got out after him and shut the door with a slight slam that appeared to resonate in the stultifying stillness of their environment. The crime scene was just ahead of them and it was sealed off from the public. Armed police personnel guarded the region so that nobody would tamper with the scene until the investigation was over. Chrome spotted a figure standing not too far from where they were parked. He pointed towards the end of the road behind Walter. “Start from that side. I’ll check this side,” he instructed.

Walter nodded and walked off in the direction Chrome had pointed. He was holding several plastic bags customarily used for the packaging of exhibits found on crime scenes. There were some on atop the roof of the car and Chrome picked them up as he walked in the opposite direction, toward the figure that stood watching them. On getting closer, he could see that the figure was that of a woman – a Caucasian woman. He remembered who she was; the expatriate who had found Jackson Essien’s body earlier in the day. He walked up to her as she looked towards the top of the hill, shielding her eyes with her hands from the bright rays of the sun. Chrome was a few steps behind her when he coughed to get her attention. Visibly startled, she whirled around.

“Oh my! You scared me,” she gasped, with a smile building up on her face.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” Chrome said, returning her smile. He could tell from her accent that she was British. She had pale-blue eyes and her skin was well-tanned. Her hair fell in straight chestnut-coloured waves to her shoulders, which were straight and lean under the cotton blouse she was wearing. Chrome was tall, and was used to staring down at most women. Not so with this woman. Her height stretched just as tall as his, and she looked to be in her late thirties.

“You are Officer Chrome Chunke, am I correct?” she asked, rather boldly. Her blue gaze rested searchingly on his face.

“Yes I am,” he replied, a little taken aback.

“No need to be surprised, sir,” she said, her smile coming back. “Your reputation precedes you.”

“My reputation?” Chrome’s brow arched.

“Yes sir, you are the one who solved the case of the hallucinogenic gases been used as refrigerants by that Chinese Air-conditioner company last year, not so? It was quite a scary episode. To think I almost bought the so-called eco-friendly air-conditioner.” She effected a shudder.

“Oh that.” Chrome smiled demurely in recollection of the case that took place the previous year. “That was a long time ago. So you have been in Nigeria since then?”

“Yes, I’ve lived here for quite a while now, two years to be exact. I love this country, so peaceful, yet with such an understated vibrancy. You can imagine my surprise when I saw the dead man this morning as I was taking my morning walk.”

Chrome watched her as she spoke, taking in a more scrutinizing observation of her. She had none of the stunning good looks of the likes of Monica Scott, but perhaps, that had to do with the fact that her looks had been hammered and firmed with age. Her musculature was well-toned, evidence of her addiction to exercise, and her voice was soft and crisp.

“–I mean, the poor man, to die in such a ghastly way, it’s just horrible –”

Chrome refocused on her words with some effort. Cutting in, he said, “I’m sorry to interrupt, Miss –” He waited for her to give her name.

“Oh, I’m sorry, where are my manners?” she said with some self-deprecation. “My name is Lorna – Lorna Jones.”

“Miss Jones –”

“Please call me Lorna.”

“Ok, Lorna, I’m sorry but you have to leave this vicinity.”

“Oh I know, you have to do your police stuff.”

“Thank you for understanding”

“My pleasure, officer. It was a real honor to meet you.”

Chrome watched Lorna leave and waited until she was nearly out of sight before he began canvassing the scene. He made sure he didn’t miss a thing, his eyesight swept from one point on the ground to another. He was about to walk to another part of the road when his cell phone rang. It was Walter.

“Talk to me, Wally.”

“Chief, I think I found something. Come with the car, I’m quite far from where you are.”

“Ok, I’m on my way.”

He ended the call and walked back to the car. Within a few minutes, he had driven to the part of the road where Walter was waiting. He got out of the car and both men met at the centre of the road. Walter cast a look around before asking his superior officer, “Chief, do you notice anything odd?”

Chrome looked around him the same way Walter just did. “Um…not really. Enlighten me.”

Walter looked around again, and then answered “We’ve been on this road for close to an hour now, haven’t we?”

“Yes we have.”

“I haven’t seen another car come through this route except for ours.”

“That’s right.” Chrome stood, hands akimbo, his crocheted brows betraying his impatience. Get to the point, he seemed to be saying.

Walter continued, “Even this morning, when we first got here, I noticed none of the cars on the highway ever turned to this road. Nobody uses this road because it leads to nowhere, just to the hills. And there is no point taking this road to the hills since there is a better road on the other side of the hills, the less steep side.”

“Excellent observation, Wally, but where are you going with this?”

“Follow me sir.” Walter led Chrome to a spot quite a bit off the main road, at hidden end of one of the hills. Walter pointed to the ground. There were tire tracks imprinted in the loose earth. Chrome crouched to get a better look. Walter brought out his High Definition digital camera and took a few snapshots of the imprints.

After carefully observing the tracks, Chrome got to his feet. “What can you tell me from this?”

“Well, the tracks are fresh, most likely left here in the morning, nothing earlier than that or else the winds would have covered them up. They were most likely made by a jeep because of the size and uniqueness of the tire patterns.” He walked to one point on the tracks and pointed towards the opposite direction and said, “The car came from the other side of the hills, where the good roads are.” He walked on a bit towards the direction Chrome was standing and stood. “It stopped here and the occupant got out.” He pointed at the only footprint that was closest to the tracks. “Those aren’t my prints, and neither are they yours.” He brought out a measuring ruler from his knapsack and placed it beside the footprint before taking a picture of it.

Chrome followed the footprints with his eyes until they disappeared into the road where their car was parked, and came back towards the tire tracks. “At least, we are most certain now that our victim was murdered. We also know his killer was mobile and was waiting. Let’s get to the top of the hill.”

Walter followed closely behind Chrome as they made their way to the top of the hill where it all began.

***

Edeeth had just got off the phone with one of the secretaries over at the Corporate Affairs Commission and was waiting for the final bit of information she was promised to be sent to her via email. So far she had gotten information on Jackson Essien’s school background and his deceased parents’ marital life. All that was left was to put all the pieces together to get a bigger picture of the Essien family. Her Blackberry suddenly buzzed and she knew the email had been sent as promised. She used the computer on the desk she was sitting behind to open the mail. She was reading through the information sent to her when she caught sight of a portion which seemed to be of great interest to her. She clicked on PRINT on the home screen and went over to the copier machine to collect the printouts. All the while, she kept on muttering, “Interesting, very interesting…”

December 21, 2012 | Categories: Uncategorized | 1 Comment

C.S.I: 9JA (The Jack And Jill Story: Episode 6)

The commissioner’s voice was deep and commanding, and it went well with his build. Considering it was his daughter’s boyfriend who was murdered, Chrome had been expecting him to make an appearance, but not so soon. He had made sure information concerning the death of Jackson Essien and Monica Scott’s connection to it was kept within a closed circle.

Chief Scott took a look at all three officers before he continued, “I believe you are holding my daughter here against her will and without an attorney. I believe you officers of the law know the gravity of such an infringement on the fundamental rights of a citizen.”

Chrome was the one who responded. “Our apologies, sir, but your daughter is in fact our only lead in a murder case. It is only procedure that we cross-examine her.” Chrome flicked a look at the driver and wondered idly about the origin of the scar on his cheek. He refocused his attention on the commissioner and said, “Since you are a man of the law, you are welcome to sit in while we ask your daughter some questions.”

“I don’t mind if I do,” Anthony replied.

They all walked into the building and the driver got back into the car and drove towards the parking lot.

By the time the three officers walked into the interrogation room with the commissioner, Edeeth was trying her best to get some answers from an inconsolable Monica. Chrome could see that her tears were genuine just as Walter had said. When Monica saw her father, she rushed up from her seat, across the room and embraced him.

“Daddy!” she cried into his shoulder.

“What have you done to my daughter?” Anthony quizzed. 

Edeeth shook her head and walked over to where her fellow officers stood. “May I see you guys outside?” she said sotto voce, and the four of them left the chief and his daughter in the interrogation room. “According to her,” Edeeth began once they were outside, “she was nowhere near the crime scene last night.” She paused before she continued, “But I think she’s hiding something… There’s something she’s holding back, she’s just not talking.”

“With the way she was crying in there, who can?” Jerome chipped in.

Walter said, “It’s going to be even more difficult to get anything out of her now that daddy’s around.”

Chrome peered through window of the interrogation room. He looked intently at the Scotts, especially at Monica. He tried not to miss a thing. Then, he turned to Walter. “We need to get back to the hill. I feel we must have missed something.” To Edeeth and Jerome, he added, “Edeeth, I want you to get as much information as you can on our dead friend. I want to know his personal background, his parents’ background, anything that can give us headway in this case. Jay, I need you to do me a favor. I want you to reach out to your contact at the airport. I want to know about flights from Uyo to Jos within the past 24 hours.” Jerome raised an eyebrow and Chrome understood what he was asking. “I want to know how the commissioner could be here so quickly. Even if Monica called him this morning while you guys picked her up from her house, it still would take a while for him to make it down here. If my hunch is anything to go by, then I believe we either have a leak within the department or Monica knows a whole lot about last night.”

The other three officers exchanged glances, and Chrome continued, “We can’t hold her for more than six hours without any proof to put her as a suspect, so we have to cut her loose for now. But we will have to keep a close eye on her…and her father.” The others nodded in agreement. Chrome looked at his watch and concluded, “It is 2:30pm now. Let’s meet back at the war room in three hours with our findings.” He paused to divide a searching gaze on their faces before adding, “Let’s do our best to close this case as quickly as possible.”

“Yes sir,” they chorused.

Jerome headed off in the direction of the exit while the other three went back into the interrogation room. Anthony got to his feet immediately they entered; indignation was starting to tighten his features. “Why are we still here?” he seethed. “Aren’t you done interrogating my daughter?”

“I’m sorry for the inconvenience, sir,” Chrome replied.

“You had better be,” the commissioner spat at him. “We are so out of here. And you better not bother my daughter again unless you have something more concrete. Have I made myself clear?” Without waiting for an answer, he turned to Monica. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s leave.” The young girl stood.

As the two of them walked towards the door, Chrome stretched out his hand to shake that of Monica’s. “My condolences, I know this is a very hard time for you.” He held her hand and looked steadily into her eyes. “We would, however, appreciate it if you didn’t leave town until the investigation is over.” He turned a meaningful look on her father as he spoke.

“Don’t worry, she won’t.” And then, Anthony led Monica out the door and towards the exit.

The officers stepped out of the interrogation room after them, watching the father–daughter duo as they walked toward the wide front door. The light of the afternoon haloed them and cast the outlines of their bodies in sharp relief. A soft breeze caught and fluttered the hem of the kaftan the commissioner was wearing as he opened the door and held it so until his daughter had passed.

The door shut behind them, and Edeeth spoke first, “OK, it’s official. She killed him. Who wants to bet money on it?”

Walter chuckled at her words. He liked that about her, always making jokes at the appropriate times to ease the tension in the air.

Chrome started for the door, saying, “Ok, Walter, let’s get going.”

The other man turned and winked at Edeeth as he followed his boss. Edeeth smiled and shook her head before heading off to her own assignment.

***

Jerome got back to his makeshift desk in the forensics department and put a call through to his contact at the airport using the secured line in the office. The room was not exactly what you would expect an elite unit such as the CSI team to be occupying. The room was rectangular and clean, with the smell of fresh paint now fading after weeks of use. The linoleum was well-trodden, and the swivel chairs creaked when you sat on them. The only computer in the room was the one on Chrome’s desk, and the internet connection was very nearly lamentable. Jerome couldn’t wait for them to be done with this case and be on their way back to Abuja, from whence they’d been summoned. They’d already been in Jos for close to a month, working on another murder case, one that they resolved just yesterday. The perp they’d been hunting blew his out brains when the hand of the law knocked on his door. Today was supposed to be about wrapping up the paperwork and flying back to Abuja.

But no, Jackson Essien had to tumble down the hill and keep them in Jos for God-knows-how-long, Jerome thought with some disgruntlement as he waited for his call to connect.

The Crime Scene Investigation department was permanently stationed in the FCT, with the objective of traveling out to different cities in the country when summoned by the local police; twice they’d even flown out to Accra in Ghana to assist on two different cases, one of which had been about the serial killings of victims in the exact same way described in the bestselling novel of the widely-celebrated Nigerian author, Ben Ikhator. The writer had assisted them on that case, and the addition of the CSI team’s investigative prowess had left a lasting impression on the Ghanaian police force, hence the re-invitation to help in the investigation of the second case. But they only responded to cases that were unique.

Suddenly he was pulled out of his reverie when a perky female voice said, “Hello?”

“Debs, it’s me, Jerome.”

His contact was a woman named Deborah Banks. She worked at the Records Department of the Murtala Mohammed International Airport in Lagos, but she was always in the know about goings-on within each airline that operated in all the other airports. If anyone was going anywhere, she would know.

“Hi, Jay, what’s up? Caught your bad guy in Jos yet?”

“Kinda. He decided to hurry on to hell ahead of schedule.”

Deborah giggled. “Oh man. Don’t you just love when they speed things up that way?”

“The redefinition of justice, even though it makes closure for the victims’ families hard to get.”

There was a brief uncomfortable silence as Deborah’s mirth was swatted by Jerome’s somber words. “Uh…so, ok, what can I help you with? Every time you call, there’s always something you need.” She added a chuckle to take the sting off her words.

He told her what he needed from her. She gave him the assurance that within the next hour she would have some information for him. Jerome dropped the receiver of the desk-phone and leaned back on the chair he sat on. He let his mind wander to earlier that day. He remembered the corpse of the young man. He was an orphan. Something the dead man had in common with him. Something in that thought stirred up a question within him. He leaned forward and picked up the receiver of the desk-phone again. This time, he put a call through to the Akwa-Ibom state police command.

December 19, 2012 | Categories: Uncategorized | 8 Comments

C.S.I: 9JA (The Jack And Jill Story: Episode 5)

Walter spied two figures standing by the large revolving door which acted as an entrance and an exit point to and fro the building. One was a male and the other female. Walter recognized the male to be a Sergeant-Major of the uniformed police division. Sgt. Lanre Bucknor was recently transferred from the Abuja division of the force and had already fully acclimatized in Plateau state. Walter hated him, more out of envy than anything else. They had attended a few training courses together. Even after all this time, nothing had changed. Lanre was tall, an inch taller than Walter, and he was also very good looking with caramel complexion. The ladies were easily drawn to him, something that didn’t settle well with Walter. Ever since he arrived for the Jackson Essien murder case, he hadn’t even gotten a second glance from any of the female officers, not even the receptionists and secretaries, all thanks to Sgt. Lanre who was at the moment chatting up the clerk who worked at the Records Department. She was all smiles. Walter creased his brow in disgust. For a good looking man such as himself, it was baffling that he was still single…not even a girlfriend. He often tried blaming this on his job as a crime scene investigator, but he knew deep down, it was all because he had the real hots for one lady, Edeeth.

He shook his head as if to physically knock out the thoughts from his mind, and then he put on the most plastic smile he could muster, before wandering towards the chatting couple. When Lanre saw Walter approaching, he parted his lips in a smile that matched Walter’s in fakeness. It would seem that the feeling of acrimony was mutual to both men.

“Heeey Walter!” Lanre said as he stretched out a hand to shake his rival’s hand.

“Lanre,” Walter replied, barely-concealed disdain in his voice. They shook hands vigorously, squeezing hard, as if trying to see whose grip was stronger, oblivious to the fact that there was another person present.

They were still engrossed in the handshake as Lanre asked with a tight smile, “So, tell me. Are you still getting your hands dirty at the crime scenes?”

Walter chortled in mock amusement, and said “What about you? Still shooting innocent bystanders?”

The barb found its mark, and Lanre gave a small laugh. He had always known Walter for his acid remarks. He released his grip on Walter’s hand as if to signify defeat. Only then did both men realize they had an audience all the while.

“Oh, you know Miss Cynthia Gajere, right? The clerk at the Records room,” Lanre said by way of introduction. She waved at him and he arched his head in return.

“Well, Cynthia, I hope my friend here hasn’t been feeding you with his falsified tales of valor,” Walter joked.

All three individuals laughed lightly and Lanre said, “Oh Walter, you’ll never change. You’re still full of shit.” The snarl in his voice was faint, but there.

And you’re still a sergeant, was the reply Walter thought of lashing at him but his attention was drawn towards the revolving door at the entrance. A familiar vehicle had pulled into the premises of the H.Q. and was heading towards the parking lot. Walter excused himself from the company and headed towards the exit. Just before he pushed the revolving door, Lanre yelled out to him “Nice seeing you again, Waltz”

Walter raised a hand in the air and dismissively waved at him, without turning around. There was no need in getting friendly with an enemy, he thought. He pushed the revolving door and within seconds, he was on his way to the parking lot to meet Chrome and Jerome.

***

Jerome parked the car in a vacant spot which was reserved for the C.S.I department. Before he could put off the engine, Chrome had already opened his side door and started disembarking from the vehicle. He was just about to slam the door shut when his cell phone rang. He had an idea who it would be calling by that time. He and his girlfriend had a ritual they followed when it came to communication. He always called her by noon, and when he didn’t, she would. He was already smiling when he pulled the phone out of his pocket, but it wasn’t her name on the caller ID. It wasn’t even a visible number. Private Number was what registered on the screen of his phone. He picked the call.

“Hello,” he said

There was silence.

“Hello…hello?” he said again, beginning to feel irritated.

Still there was silence. He was about to take the phone off his ear when he heard a synthesized masculine voice.

“HELLO,” the voice said, “AM I SPEAKING WITH OFFICER CHROME CHUNKE?”

“I am he…who am I speaking with please?” Chrome replied, trying to sound as polite as he could.

There was silence again. Chrome asked the question again but this time the line went dead.  He held his phone and stared at it for some time. He felt it must have been some kind of prank call and the most likely culprit was his girlfriend. He smiled at the thought but quickly shook it off. He would call her later and give her the scolding she deserved, but right now he had a case to solve. Romance could wait.

Jerome joined him where he stood and they both made their way towards the front doors of the F.P.F Plateau H.Q. By the time they got there, Walter was waiting for them. He informed them that they had Monica in custody and Edeeth was already interrogating her.

“It wasn’t easy, man,” Walter said as they walked towards the entrance of the building. “The security operatives stationed at the residence wouldn’t let us in and if it wasn’t for the young woman willingly coming with us, we would have needed an arrest warrant.” He paused and folded his arms before continuing, “She’s with Edeeth right now. She took the news of his death hard.”

Chrome cocked an eyebrow and said, “You mean she didn’t know of his death?”

Walter relaxed his arms before answering, “Well, the tears seemed genuine enough, even if she knew something, I doubt she would be willing to say it right now.”

“Yeah, you’re right about that,” Chrome agreed.

Jerome scratched his head to get the attention of his superiors. “I doubt we would make any headway by standing out here,” he finally said.

Chrome smiled, and dividing a look between the other men, he said, “Ok fellas, let go see how we can get our young songbird to sing.”

 All three men were about to go into the building when a black Mercedes Benz GLX650 SUV pulled up in front of the entrance to the Police building. The driver’s side door was swung open and a heavily built man, with a fresh scar on his left cheek, stepped out and opened the owner’s side door for an elderly man. The grey hairs on his head and beards were evenly spaced and gave him a dignified look. He looked to be in his early sixties but was in terrific shape. He was tall, and each stride he took as he walked towards the officers was strong and sure. He stopped right in front of them and said, “My name is Chief Anthony Scott…S.A.N.”

December 7, 2012 | Categories: Uncategorized | 2 Comments

C.S.I; 9JA (The Jack And Jill Story: Episode 4)

Manny (Dr. Emmanuel Etim) was still in the autopsy room examining the corpse of Jackson Essien, when his assistant, Dr. Stacey Anu, walked in through the only door leading in and out of the room. She was a petit young lady with more of a caramel complexion than one that was out-rightly fair. She walked up to where Manny was and passed the flat file she held to him. Manny paused in his examination, flipped the gloves off his hands with audible snaps and took the file from her. After glancing through the papers in it, he handed it back to her and asked, “How is the mould coming?”

She watched as Manny took a flexible camera probe – the type usually used in hospitals for checking the colon for cancerous tissues – and peered into the opening on the head of the corpse. The monitor, which displayed the images received by the camera, was set on a small table beside the two doctors. Stacey put the file under her arm and replied Manny’s question, “The computer has imputed the measurements taken and is already constructing 3D images of the weapon. The mould should be ready at the latest by morning.”

“Ok, thank you, Stacey. You can –” He didn’t complete that sentence as his attention was stolen by what he saw on the monitor. “What’s this?” He took a pair of forceps and, with the aid of the camera, pulled out a small, shiny object from within the wound on the head of the corpse. The two doctors looked at the object on the forceps.

“This must be part of the murder weapon,” Stacey intoned.

“Undoubtedly,” Manny replied. He placed the material on a beaker and handed it over to her. “Here – take this to the lab and run the necessary tests on it. We may have a better insight as to what the murder weapon was with this.” 

“Ok, what would you be doing?” she asked as she walked towards the door

“I have to call Chrome. He needs to know about this. I’m pretty sure it’s going to be very useful in his investigation.” He was already digging his cellphone out of his pocket, and then he dialed the number of the policeman.

Chrome and Jerome were just a few kilometers away from the station when his cell phone rang. He took it out of his pants pocket and checked the Caller ID. It was Manny. He answered. On his side, Jerome kept dividing his concentration between the road and the one side of the conversation going on beside him. His eyes darted intermittently from the road before him and his superior. It wasn’t as though there was anything to understand, judging by Chrome’s monosyllabic responses.

“Mm-hmm… Mm-hmm… Mm-hmm… OK… OK… That’s splendid. Thanks, Manny… We’ll be there in a few.” Finally, he ended the call and put the phone back in his pocket.

“What was that about?” Jerome asked, now giving the road his full attention.

“Manny found some kind of metallic object in the dead guy’s head, already running tests to try and decipher what it is and where it came from.”

“Manny sure is handy when you need him,” Jerome joked

“Yes.” Chrome chuckled – something he didn’t do often – and said, “He sure is pretty hands-on.”

Both officers laughed at the joke and Chrome said, “At least, with his help, we have made some progress in this case.” Jerome straightened up on the steering. He was still smiling. Chrome looked at him and said, “You better step on the gas. I want this case over with as quickly as you do.”

With a smirk on his face, Jerome put his foot down on the gas pedal as the car sped down the highway.

***

Edeeth ushered Monica into the interrogation room within the H.Q. complex. Unlike what the rumor mill had to say, the interrogation room was quite homely. It was well lit and had huge windows from which one could see different police personnel going about their daily duties along the corridors. The room was moderately sized, allowing for up to 10 people to be in it at the same time without feeling claustrophobic. There was a long rectangular, steel table in the center of the room. Its edges were shaved to a smooth curve and the top was padded with harden foam, a few centimeters thick. On several occasions, suspects being interrogated have tried committing suicide by slamming their heads on the bare steel surface or on the sharp edge. Around the table were three metal chairs, two at the opposing breaths and one at one lengthy side of the table. They weren’t the most comfortable chairs you could sit on, but they wouldn’t leave a bruise.

Monica sat on one the chairs, which was at one breath of the table and Edeeth pulled up the chair at the length closer to where Monica was. She was holding a file which she placed on top of the table in front of Monica. Walter preferred to stand close to the door. He leaned against the wall on his back with arms folded in front of him. Monica’s gaze went from officer to officer as if trying to ask them questions with her eyes.

Edeeth finally broke the ice. “We have found Jackson Essien,” she said

“You have?” Monica asked, her face gradually glowing with excitement.

“Yes, we have,” Walter replied from where he was. He stood up straight now and had a gravely look on his face. Monica looked at Edeeth, wanting more answers. When none was forthcoming, she stood up and said, “So, where is he? How is he? You don’t need my help anymore…right?”

“Not exactly,” Walter said. He was gradually making his way towards the table as he continued, “Not for a missing person’s case, anyways.”

Monica shot him a puzzled look. Edeeth touched her hand and said, “Jackson was found dead this morning near the Hills.”

Monica’s face went blank. It was like the wind had been knocked out of her. She slowly sat back on her chair. Her lips trembled and two globules of tears trickled down her eyes. The words, when she spoke them, came out in a very low, hoarse whisper, unbeknownst to her: “He died? Oh my God…he died…”

Edeeth, whose sharp gaze was trained on her, was quick to read her lips, and the policewoman asked, “What do you mean by ‘he died’?”

Monica must have realized that she had let something slip, because something shuttered on her face as she quickly regained her composure, and she said, “Oh, sorry. I meant to ask how he died.”

Edeeth leaned forward and said, “We don’t know at the moment. We’d hoped you would help us figure it out.”

Monica tried to hold back her tears, but they still came cascading down her cheeks in torrents. She buried her head within her folded arms and sobbed gently. Edeeth put a hand on her shoulder in a silent effort to calm her. She looked over at Walter, and he understood what she was trying to say. He left them in the interrogation room and walked down the corridor towards the reception hall of the building.

December 5, 2012 | Categories: Uncategorized | 6 Comments

C.S.I: 9JA (The Jack And Jill Story: Episode 3)

The Toyota corolla sedan belonging to the C.S.I. department pulled into the parking lot of the Economics department in the University of Jos. Officers Chrome and Jerome wasted no time in tracking down the lady whose connection to their case was yet to be unfolded. After being misdirected once, they finally met with a close friend of Monica’s just outside her lecture room. When asked if she knew Monica’s whereabouts, she answered, “Monica? Oh you mean Jill! No, she hasn’t been to school today.”
“Jill, you say?” Chrome asked.
“Oh, yeah. You see, that’s a nickname we, her close friends, gave her. She has the voice of a diva when she sings,” the young woman explained. “So, we gave her the name ‘Jill’, since she sounds so much like the American singer, Jill Scott.”
“I see,” Chrome replied, not sure exactly what he was seeing.
“You know, it’s really strange of her not to be in school today. She never misses a class,” she added.
“Why strange?” Jerome asked.
“Well, that’s because her father is a politician. You might have heard of him. He is the current commissioner for education in Akwa-Ibom state.” Chrome and Jerome nodded their heads in affirmation, and she continued, “So, you see, she has to be a model student.” After a brief moment of silence, she asked, “She’s not in some kind of trouble, is she?”
“We would like to believe that isn’t so,” Jerome replied.
Chrome then asked, “Do you know of her relationship with Mr. Jackson Essien?”
“Oh Jack? He is a nice guy, treats Monica like his queen. Their relationship is very solid and I believe they would head down the aisle very soon,” she supplied all this in one breath, her eyes picking up a merry dance. “Yeees! I remember now. She was meant to go and see him yesterday. Something about a surprise he had in store for her. I’m sure he proposed to her!” She now looked positively radiant with vicarious joy.
Jerome gave his superior a puzzled look, an expression Chrome responded to with a raised brow. It was their signal to leave. Chrome thanked the young woman and asked her for her name. “Oh, I’m sorry sir, where are my manners? My name is Clementina Akpan, but you may call me Tina for short.”
“Ok, Tina, one last thing. May we have Monica’s current residential address?”
She reluctantly obliged and Chrome thanked her again before he and Jerome headed back towards the parking lot. On their way, Jerome asked Chrome how come Tina wasn’t yet aware of the demise of Jackson. The younger officer assumed that the morning would have been teeming with news of the murder. Chrome answered, saying that earlier in the morning, he had called the PRO of the F.P.F, Sergeant Joy Chinatu, and asked her to use her connections to tamp down on how much the media broadcasting about the story. What people knew was that someone was dead. No names had been released. Yet.
As they drove past the gates of the University, Chrome put a call through to Walter, and gave him Monica Scott’s address, and instructions to bring her in for questioning.
Miss Monica Scott, Chrome mused the name to himself as Jerome engaged a gear and vroomed past a bus choking out large puffs of blackened exhaust smoke. After a brief pause, he muttered, “What are you hiding?”

***

Walter put away his cell phone as Edeeth turned the steering hard to make a u-turn towards the direction of their new destination. Their new orders were to locate Jackson’s girlfriend, a Miss Monica Scott, and bring her back to the head quarters for questioning. Something about the way Chrome had given the order made them realize that this woman was a person of great interest. Edeeth stepped on the gas pedal as the car sped down the highway. It would seem that Sir Anderson’s information was genuine. In just a little above twenty minutes, they arrived at the gate of the residence of Miss Scott. The building was situated in Bukuru Township, on a lonely stretch of thoroughfare two minutes away from the main Abuja/Jos expressway. The gate was massive. Seated just outside were two military personnel. They eyed the officers stonily as they pulled up on the side of the street, alighted and approached them. Edeeth was the one who inquired if Monica was home.
“This is the holiday residence of the Akwa-Ibom state Commissioner for Education. You have no right to barge in here and ask for whomever you want,” one of the soldiers barked.
“I’m sorry, but this is official police business. We have to investigate any case and Miss Scott is part of our investigation,” Edeeth retorted sharply.
The other soldier seated sprang up, grabbed his rifle and said, “Listen, if you bloody police-people don’t leave here now, I will blow you away!” He cocked the rifle and aimed pointblank at Walter. A knot of people began to gather here and there on the street as passersby stopped, wonder at what was going on etched on their faces. Their expressions were rapt as they observed the law enforcement agents and their military counterparts.
Walter kept his cool. He looked straight at the soldier and said, “We are no longer in those barbaric days when you soldiers could do whatever you wanted and got away with it. To begin with, you are here guarding this residence illegally. You both are meant to be in the barracks or away on your tour of duty. The commissioner must’ve pulled some strings to get you both to be here. Trust me, if you start anything, it’s going to spiral back to him. And he’s not going to be happy in the end, I guarantee that!” The flinty stare he planted on the soldier was firm with purpose.
The soldier hesitated. His partner placed a hand on his shoulder and nodded. The trigger-happy man put down his weapon, eyed Walter with residual disgruntlement and took a few steps back. Just then, the smaller portion on the huge gate opened up. A young woman stepped through. To say she was beautiful was an understatement; she was stunning. She was slightly built and coffee-colored; her oblong head was crowned with thick curly hair brushed loosely over pert shoulders. The simple flowery dress she wore accentuated the sensual curves of her well-proportioned body, and showed off a long splendid pair of legs. Her face was dominated by large, dark eyes fringed with long lashes, full, pouting lips, a firmly-set jaw and a small, pert nose.
If this was Monica Scott, Walter thought, then Jackson had been one heck of a lucky guy before he died.
If this was Monica Scott, Edeeth thought, then Jack’s death just got more intriguing. Beautiful women and dead boyfriends always made for interesting cases.
With a bewildered look on her face, the young woman inquired from the soldiers what was going on.
“It’s these bloody policemen oh. They came here and started all sorts of nonsense questions!” the trigger-happy soldier groused, obviously still miffed that he hadn’t shot someone yet.
Walter noticed the animosity the soldier harbored towards them. It was no news of the continuous rivalry that persisted between the Police and the Army. A rivalry that began way before any who were standing there was born. What started such unwarranted bad blood would forever remain a mystery, Walter thought. He was brought back to the present when Monica spoke, “Policemen?” she paused and then asked, “What do they want?”
Edeeth noticed something off about her voice and raised an eyebrow at Walter, who promptly answered the question before any of the soldiers could, “We are here to see a Monica Scott.”
“I am she,” she replied. “What do you want with me?”
“We would like you to accompany us back to the station.”
“Why? What have I done?”
“We are investigating a missing-persons case involving a certain Jackson Essien.”
“Missing?” Monica looked surprised. The soldiers themselves exchanged puzzled looks.
Walter continued, “Yes, missing. You are his girlfriend, are you not?”
“Ye…yes I am,” Monica stammered.
“Then you won’t mind following us back to the station,” Walter said.
Monica hesitated and was thinking of returning back into the compound when Edeeth added, “Only to ask you a few questions that may help us locate his whereabouts…please.”
Monica sighed. She looked at the soldiers and instructed them to let her father know where she was going. She ignored the soldiers’ protests and followed the officers to their car. As they opened the doors, Walter looked at the trigger-happy soldier, winked at him and got in. Before long they were on their way back to the station.

November 30, 2012 | Categories: Uncategorized | 8 Comments

C.S.I :9JA (The Jack and Jill Story: EPISODE 2)

Dr. Emmanuel Etim was on call to perform the autopsy on the body of the young man. He had performed all the usual investigative procedures on the cadaver and was completing his report when Officer Chrome walked into the Autopsy Lab clad in a white lab coat over his tailor-fitted suit. “Good morning, Chrome,” the medical examiner greeted his visitor.

“Morning, Manny,” Chrome hailed back, calling the other man by the sobriquet he went by amongst his friends and colleagues, “Got the report ready?”

“Yes, I have.” Manny handed the clipboard in his hand over to Chrome. He was a fair-skinned, slightly-plump man, and forty years of age, whose gilt-framed spectacles did little to hide the sharp intelligence in his eyes. He continued, “Young male in his late twenties, multiple fractures across both arms and both legs. Serious bruises around parts of his head, six broken ribs, which in turn punctured his lungs and caused massive internal bleeding.” He paused, and then he continued, “But it would seem that the internal loss of blood was not the actual cause of death.”

Chrome threw him a puzzled look and asked, “If that’s not what killed him, then what did?”

Manny walked towards the top of the autopsy table where the cadaver lay and pointed at the head of the corpse. “Here…” he said, “the cause of death was blunt force trauma to the top of the skull popularly known as the crown of the head.”

Chrome took a look at the depression on the head of the corpse. The wound looked painful enough to make him wince. “Were you able to decipher what caused the depression?” he asked.

“My assistant, Dr. Stacey, is already making a mould to answer that question properly, but from what I can see, this indenture wasn’t inflicted on our young friend here during his free fall. The wounds and fractures on his hands show that he guarded his head while he rolled, even though it was a futile endeavor.” He looked at Chrome for a moment, then back at the corpse, before concluding, “He received this knock after he had come to rest at the point where he was found. Someone did this to him.”

Chrome gave a deep sigh before saying, “I guess we have ourselves a murder case.”

The tension in the air was finally broken as the door to the autopsy room was swung open and Jerome walked in. “We finally got an I.D. on our corpse,” he announced before handing over a printout to his superior. “His name is Jackson Essien, 29 years of age, hails from Akwa-Ibom State but completed his National Youth Service Corps program four years ago here in Plateau State and has remained ever since. He works at the Veterinary Research Institute in Kuru.”  Chrome read through the details on the printout as Jerome continued his narration, “From a comfortable background, only child and an orphan. He lost both parents two years ago in a car accident.”

“Do we have an address of residence?” Chrome asked,

“Yes we do. Officers Edeeth and Walter are already on their way there.”

“Good, anything else to report?

“One other thing, sir,” Jerome started. “We gathered information from the colleagues of the deceased that he had a girlfriend. Someone called Monica Scott.”

“Well then, Jay,” Chrome said, “lets’ invite Miss Monica down to the station for questioning.”

***

Officers Walter Udeme and Edeeth Ajuala were busy cracking some in-house jokes when they arrived at the residence of the young man that lay dead on the autopsy table. Edeeth, a dark-skinned lady of average height, with the kind of good looks you wouldn’t expect to see on a policewoman, looked around the compound where Jackson Essien once lived. Her braided hair was short and hung like the ringlets of dreadlocks. She walked around the compound while her partner knocked on the door of the first flat in the building. The building was typical in these parts of Kuru, built in such a way that the four flats within the building were independent of the other. The occupant of the first flat which was on the ground floor was an old retiree who identified himself as Sir Anderson Gyang. The wrinkle-faced man whose hefty build belied his seemingly advanced age was cleaning his prized golf clubs when the police officers approached him. A huge golf enthusiast, he always made sure all his equipments were in tiptop condition. He had moved to the area due to its serene atmosphere. Walter greeted him politely and after introducing his partner, they showed him their badges and proceeded to ask for information on his next door neighbor.

“Oh, Jackson? He is a very good boy,” the old man remarked “a very polite and hard working young man.”

“Sir, could you please tell us if there was anything peculiar in his character in the last two days?” Walter asked

“Why? Did he do anything wrong? Did something happen to him?” Sir Anderson sounded faintly ill at ease.

“No sir, we are just carrying out investigations at his place of work,” Edeeth cut in, trying to redirect the flow of the conversation. Before they left the FPF (Federal Police Force) Headquarters, they had been cautioned by their team leader to keep the news of the death of Jackson on the down-low. “We merely wish to make sure he hasn’t been embezzling company funds,” she added.

“Oh, okay…if you put it that way, I honestly can say that he is a well behaved boy and I doubt he is into anything notorious,” the old man said.

“Okay, sir. Is there anything you can tell us about his social life?”

Sir Anderson was wiping his 9-iron golf club with a rag when Walter asked him the last question. His face was creased into a frown because he’d just noticed that the aluminum coating on the club was chipping off. He put down the club and let out a long sigh before answering. “Hmmm, well…all I can say is, he doesn’t have parties and the only visitor who frequents his house is his girlfriend.” The old man’s face lit up. “Lovely girl, I can’t really remember her name but she is a perfect match for him. They usually take walks to the hills and sometimes have picnics up there. I think she was with him yesterday evening…I believe around 7:30pm,” he concluded.

“Okay, thank you for the information, Sir Anderson. We will take our leave now,” Walter said.

Sir Anderson was the only tenant available at that time of the day, so the officers decided to head back to the station. As they were about to get into their car, Sir Anderson called out to them from his balcony, “Essien is a good boy, whatever trouble he is in – I’m sure he is innocent.”

The officers exchanged a look and then nodded at the old man. If only he knew, was the similar thought that ran through their minds.

Edeeth punched the accelerator as the car sped through the highway towards the station. Walter looked at her as she maneuvered through traffic with the efficiency of a male driver. He smiled at a thought of them becoming an item. He had a serious crush on her but didn’t know how to tell her. He was about to make a witty remark about her hairdo when his cell phone rang. It was Chrome.

“Who’s that?” Edeeth asked

“It’s the chief,” he replied.

“He doesn’t like being called chief – remember?” Edeeth teased.

“Hold that thought,” Walter said, almost laughing, as he answered the call.

November 26, 2012 | Categories: Uncategorized | 2 Comments