by Anthony Mugo
“Until Ciuri was found Mbao’s murder was but a hypothesis,” Sanse said. “There was still a good chance that he had actually relocated. I have known beggars to work for ‘employers’ in the city. Again, with no kin, there was no way of proving the body to be his.”
“We deserved to know nonetheless,” Boko insisted. “Maybe I would have been keener on identification.”
“You hired me in the belief that Oscar was dead. I doubt that you would have been as aggressive had you suspected it was Mbao’s body from the onset. We lost a big chance on the DNA tests.”
“How?”
“Both addressed Stacey’s paternity instead of the identity of the body. Diana sat on the infertility issue knowing that by raising it before the test we would seek DNA sample from Oscar’s kin. I think you accepted Diana’s story so readily because you didn’t want to be proved wrong. Diana’s actions had me thinking. Why would she seek redemption in an imprisoned murderer, the very man she had tricked into fatherhood? Of course she feigned ignorance to the fact that DNA can work between relatives.
“I hired you for such insights,” Boko said.
“You vetoed me on the identity issue, remember? Again, it was important that Diana felt she had everyone fooled. That would give her confidence to contact Oscar at some point. I expected the contact not sooner than the settlement of the claim.”
“So, all the while you were toying with Diana. And us.”
“You make me feel like a con man.”
Sanse’s phone rang. It was Mathew.
“You did it detective,” Mathew said.
“Did what?”
“The kickback, remember?”
“Oh, that.”
“You’ve earned it!”
Sanse could not control his emotions. Tears welled in his eyes.
“Are you still there?”
“I am here.”
“You will need to claim the same in writing.”
“Of course.”
Sanse ended the call.
“Is everything okay?”
“Everything is okay.”
The two men fell silent as Sanse fished out his comb and started working on his hair part.
“What do you think of your ex-partner?” Boko asked.
“You mean Pai? He is weak, he is strong; he is human. He risked two years being my partner. Well, risking is what they called it. I tried to improve him; he shot me down. I think to him the reverse is the case. We loved our job. We were heaven-sent to rid the world of criminals. But we couldn’t settle on a formula to fulfil our mission. I doubt that there is. It is no big deal that our partnership fell apart. It was not an until-death-do-us-part sort of thing. Most people can’t stick together for a week; we did it for two years. Mark you, we were not in love. If I fall on the roadside and a Good Samaritan walks by it should be Detective Pai.”
“It is said that you were blandishing your gun in a bar,” Boko said.
“The other day you asked me whether I have been to a therapist. Well, I discovered the perfect antidote years ago. Booze. Somehow I can hold my wits together while drunk. Willy got away with it because I was drunk. As regards blandishing the gun, well, I was dead drunk.”
“Do you mean you were framed?”
“I mean I have enemies too.”
“What about your partner’s shooting?”
“What about the book?” Boko almost fell off his chair. “My hiring. The briefs. The interviews. The lunch break.”
The two men regarded each other.
“No one will buy it,” Sanse said. “And no, it is not about your writing skills. But there are millions of more interesting stuff than a man’s hopelessness and drunkenness.”
“It is not an autobiography, you know.”
“Whatever.” Sanse got on his feet. “I can’t say I wish you the best because I don’t.”
Boko took an envelope from a drawer and pushed it across the table. Sanse picked it and walked out of the office. He called Kelvin.
“You owe me a shilling,” Sanse said.
“You did it!” Kelvin said.
“I am in a position to buy you a mug of tea and a doughnut.”
“Why not lunch?”
“Surely, why not?”
***
Nine found Pai and Ed on the road to Esther’s. Boko had understood his situation and agreed to a one-week off. Ed sat back left, his attention torn between the music coming through the earphones and surfing the net on his phone. Until now Pai had considered himself miles ahead of Sanse. But looking closely at Sanse he saw himself. His ex-partner had lost his family; his was but an illusion. At times Sanse drunk one too many; he was a workaholic. Sanse had lost his house and land; he had had neither thanks to Rose’s appetite for expensive flats and holidays.
But while Sanse managed to pull it off he was busy messing up.
“Let’s rest our troubles in the past for a while,” he had told Ed. “Let’s try to draw a caricature that says, Meet Pai, his daughter and son.
Pai didn’t mind how much he was going to spend during the week; he had to reclaim his family.
The end
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About the author
Anthony Mugo graduated from Moi University in 2001 with B A in economics. His two stories entitled Too Innocent to Die and Not a Drop won the National Book Development Council of Kenya (NBDCK) Prize for Budding Writers in 2009 and 2010 respectively. Never say Never (ASIN 9966362371), a semi-autobiographical novel, won the Burt Award for African Literature in 2012. Ask the Stars (ASIN 9966310622) won the same prize in 2014. He lives in Nairobi with his wife, daughter and son.
Glossary
Boda boda – motorcycle taxi.
List of characters
Michael ‘Mike’ Sanse – a former CID officer now a private investigator
Senior Detective Cosmas Pai – a CID office and Sanse’s ex-partner
Detective Gilbert Mavedi – Pai’s partner
Inspector Willis Boko – the Divisional Chief Investigative Officer, Kathare
Oscar Ciuri – one of the civic candidates
Fredrick Maru – one of the civic candidates
Diana Ciuri – Oscar Ciuri’s wife
Willy – a seasoned criminal
