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PATRON OF TERROR

Page 2

by Adimchinma Ibe


  Akpan was a good cop, a better administrator, and a very good politician. He played the backroom politics perfectly, rising carefully through the ranks. He was sensitive to pressures which was probably why I was still on suspension.

  On the other hand, it was paid suspension.

  Maybe he believed, deep down inside that cool exterior, I deserved a long vacation.

  I should mention Akpan had a major problem in remaining Acting Chief. He was honest. And while he really wanted to remain Acting Chief, I knew him well enough to know that he’d have a hard time because he was prepared to make the hard choices. The hard choices that would have him doing the right thing but ending up being Captain Akpan again.

  And now here he was, early in the morning after the Puene tragedy last night.

  “Chief? Good morning?”

  He eyed my apartment, rather approvingly, then turned to face me. His eyes dropped to my shorts, then back up again. He sighed. “I see you’re ready for the day.”

  “I did not have to go out early. Would you like a muffin?”

  “Is this what two months off work does to you?”

  “You could have called first.”

  He took a breath. “Enough. You know why I’m here. It’s in the morning papers and all over the news. And I hear you were at the scene, right after the two constables. You know by now Puene and his wife are dead. The driver is okay.”

  I nodded. “I dropped by the polling station. Puene was already there. After a few minutes he argued with the guys on the other side. Then he took off, leaving his aides behind. The constables there didn’t have a cover, so I followed them instead. A motorcycle, a big one, came out of nowhere in the darkness behind me, shot past, hit that section of road with the curves. I heard the shots. By the time I got there, he had already left and the constables were just out of their car. The bike was maybe a Suzuki. The driver wore black leathers and a helmet.”

  “They were in the back seat of the Toyota Land Cruiser, their driver in front. The front tire blew out. Both tires, actually. On the driver’s side. The driver lost control. The car rolled several times until it hit a tree,’ Akpan said calmly, still standing while I went back to my three-in-one couch and sat down.

  He was working to look cool and it was getting him hot. He wiped his face and finally did not wait to be invited to sit down and did not ask where he could sit. He took the couch opposite mine and sat down.

  4

  There was obviously more. I waited, letting him play it out his own way. He could have done this over the phone. I owed him the courtesy.

  Except I did say, of course, “The tires were shot out.”

  He nodded, and removed his cap. He liked his cap, he liked the uniform.

  “Neither of the Puenes were wearing seat belts. Dr. Vincent was thrown from the car, his wife went into the front window. You saw. His wife died two hours after being taken to the Federal Medical Center. The driver, he was lucky, I suppose, was wearing a seat belt and had only minor bruises. He is still in the hospital, under observation. He probably had nothing to do with this, but I’m not sure.”

  “Shot out tires.”

  He nodded again. “I know. It was no accident. It was murder. The tires were shot out. There were holes in both. I saw the photos, Still, he could have taken a much better route, not one with no one around. He knew better.”

  I waited.

  “In his statement, the driver claims a power bike drew up level with them. The rider wore a helmet. It was dark and the driver did not see the man’s face.

  But he did see the rider point a gun and shoot the out the front and back tires. It happened fast.

  “The driver lost control and the car flipped. After the crash, he was dazed, but he’d been wearing his seat belt, and the air bag protected him. He told the constables what I gather he told you. That the biker stopped, rode to where he could see Puene’s body to make sure he was dead, and then the biker took off.”

  He stood up, and I respectfully stood too facing him. He then brought out my gun from his pocket and my badge, and handed them to me. “I want you on the case. I want to know why the driver took that route, and anything else you can find out.”

  “I’m on suspension. A paid suspension and it’s been very nice.”

  “You were there last night. You’re a police officer whether you are suspended or not. Don’t bother me.”

  “Well, I was put on suspension for breaking the rules. And you are hardly following standard procedure. I can’t see how a suspension can be suspended under the circumstances.”

  “If you keep this up you’ll have to get me some coffee, and it will have to be good coffee, and there is no time for that.”

  “If I return do I have to remain suspended? You know, am still suspended anyway.”

  “Shut up. I knew that before I came over here. Pull some cloths on, you’re coming with me.”

  “And what if I can’t stop breaking rules?”

  “I will cover you, as long as you don’t get into trouble,” he replied evenly. He looked at his watch.

  “Dress quickly and come with me. I’ll save time if I brief you in the car.”

  I said nothing.

  “I’d like to wait in the car, unless you want me to watch you dress.”

  “Seriously, I have two plane tickets to Lagos. Freda and I are going to visit her mother. Her mother is sick. Again. This is true. And, I don’t want to let her down,” I said instead.

  “Let down Freda or her mother? Don’t you want to let down both?”

  I said nothing. He knew how things are with Freda and I. Everyone at headquarters knew. I had been trying to walk away for a long time.

  Freda wanted me to settle down and have kids. She’d set her cap on me from the beginning, and the cap was kind of like the one Odd job wore. Made me nervous. Usually I was the hunter. That and, anyway, other reasons was why I was scared of settling down.

  Steady relationships are a lot more difficult for me. Catching a murderer was a lot easier for me than catching a break in my relationship merry-go-round.

  I still feel that Police work was dangerous enough, but at least criminals did not always aim for the heart.

  Worse, when you have a family you should not bring your work home with you, and I worked Homicide. I brought home not just the memories of the corpses. I brought home thinking every day how you can’t trust most people, how everyone has a dark side, how if you wait long enough everyone will lie. That ain’t a healthy point of view to bring home to your kids. But detective work does that to you. It must.

  So for the past couple of months, I had wondered whether I should quit. How important was a family to me? Was it important enough to give up believing everyone lies, and it was my job to find the worst?

  Not be a detective? I was not sure what else I would do. Wanted to do. Could do.

  Nothing had come to mind yet, so I still remain a detective and not a family man yet.

  Akpan looked at his watch again. “No more excuses, or better still first take care of those your excuses. You’re on the case. Start now, after you put on some clothes.” He put his cap back on. “Talk to the driver. The aides, the Party workers. Whoever you can think of.”

  “What about Freda? What you want me to do about her? I promised her I’d go on this trip with her. Really, I think we need to get away for a while, things aren’t going so great.”

  “I thought her mother was ailing. Get your pants on, for me. When you’re done, you can take them off, for her. I have a meeting with Amadi at Area Command, to lift your suspension. I want you working before then.”

  “You came over first, without the okay? Isn’t there a Departmental Committee that must first make a ruling?”

  “I wanted to make sure I’d have no problem bringing you back.”

  He opened the front door and waved at the driver. “I’m the Chief, remember?” He looked me up and down.

  “On second thought, clean up first. Meet at headquarters.


  5

  Considerably, it was like a movie. Unfairly exiled, now called back in a desperate emergency.

  Well, maybe Akpan had let me have an extended vacation for my good work and to let me lay low for a couple of months until the controversy around the previous Chief was replaced by a newer controversy. The politics internally were fierce. Everyone knew I’d done what had to be done, but it was better if I was away so they could forget about it for a while.

  No one wanted someone around who was so honest he took down not only the crime lord of Port Harcourt, but its Chief of Police as well. Everyone wanted to slap my back while being nowhere near me.

  I sat at the couch, got a large pad. I had started the list last night, after I got home. I looked at the headings, and notes under most: “scene”, “motives”, “witnesses”, “questions”, “miscellaneous”, other headings. My standard grid. Lists. I make lists. I have to write it down, see it. Nothing should be taken at face value. I wrote whatever new had come up. That part did not take long.

  I thought over the Puene deaths. It was a strange way to kill or intimidate someone. For starters, the shooter took a real risk, using a motorcycle, hoping for the right moment, with no metal around him to protect himself. In Nigeria, we only see such things in box office movies shot in the western countries.

  Was it murder or an attempted accident, to intimidate, that went very wrong? And, did the biker and his boss care that it went wrong? But the driver did say the biker stopped to look once at Puene before he zoomed off. I think I have my answer.

  I seriously doubt that the driver to agree to taking such a risk, if it was meant to be an accident only to intimidate his employer at whatever price. He should know that he might not survive the accident to be alive to enjoy the money, if he ever decided to accept money turn against his boss. So I ruled that line investigation out.

  I got up and went into the bathroom to wash up. I would have to tell Freda I could not come on the trip because of the Puenes case. Part of me was happy, especially not having to spend time with her mother. And another part was happy that I was in demand at work. Happy that I was back at work. That was three parts happy, which was very good, for me.

  Freda would throw a tantrum. That was her routine lately. She had expected me to spend a lot more time with her while I was suspended, and I hadn’t. Freda was pushing herself on me. For me, these were not good thoughts as the basis of a permanent and stable relationship.

  Not to mention that I would not mind running across to my young neighbor Ruth this evening. Freda would think I was at work, looking at a corpse instead of the single mom next door who I found so appealing. Except she was the ex-wife of a friend of mine and a colleague.

  My happiness factors started to drop. I felt it. Maybe it was when I figured I was a louse with Freda. I should end it.

  Well, I was back to work, and that made me happy, and I’d settle for one part, at least today. Tomorrow, hopefully a touch more.

  Or not. Some potential happy sections remained under serious repair. Such as my mother and her feelings about Freda. Freda was from the wrong tribe. And even though I was uncertain about Freda, who was nice to me and attractive and wanted to start a family with a man who had no money and rank, I mean who could argue with that? Except my mother?

  And of course the fact that my mother did not like Freda threw me into Ruth’s arms. Which was maybe why this was still going on. I don’t know what Freud would make of all this, but he chomped on cigars, and we all know that Freud envied other doctors who had bigger cigars.

  But I did not want to make my remaining happy part, well you know, so my thoughts returned to murder. I soaped myself up and thought of what I had to do today.

  The shower was hot but I left it cool.

  I dressed into work clothes. That included my badge and semi-automatic which Akpan brought over.

  As I started up the Peugeot, I knew I would have to make Freda my first stop. Nothing else could get done today until I talked with her about not coming on the trip with her. I did not have much of a personal life, but I certainly had an obligation to postpone what little personal life I did have.

  I phoned her on my cell. She was getting ready to leave, and I asked her to wait a few minutes, that I had to talk with her. So when I got there, she already knew, or suspected and expected.

  6

  I took the stairs to her apartment two at a time. She opened the door before I could press the bell. Tall, fine boned, intelligent face, very pretty. Eyes that looked at me calmly, patiently. Surprise.

  “I’ve seen the news. Have you been called back?”

  “Half an hour ago. Akpan dropped by.”

  “That’s impressive. It isn’t an accident at all, is it?”

  Instead of being angry she was cool. Of course. It fed into a not nice way of seeing her: I was wrong about her throwing a tantrum. That included being bad a detective, when it comes to Freda. So instead of a tantrum, she was pleased.

  I had a little speech prepared but the way things were turning out, shutting up was the best I could say.

  I took her into my arms.

  “I know we have some problems,” she said, purring into my ear. That felt pretty nice. “I know I’m a little pushy, but only with you. Because I want you. I wanted to get away with you. I feel something slipping away, and I don’t want that. I don’t want you to go through the motions with me, Tammy.”

  “I don’t know what I want,” I said, and then kissed her. I did not add, I don’t want to hurt you.

  She kissed back even better.

  Then I pulled back. “Sorry, but why don’t I give you a lift to the airport? Once I get started, I don’t know where I’ll be.”

  “Sure, honey. I so understand. Look, we were going to catch a flight later today. Drive me to the airport now, and I can get the earlier flight. I can still see my mom. She’s expecting us. And I know I won’t see much of you the next couple of days. You can phone me, pick me up when I come back?”

  She smiled so sweetly.

  “Deal.”

  I had a lot more thinking to do before I opened my mouth and changed everything.

  She really did her best. The drive to the airport was very pleasant. I filled her in on last night, what I’d probably do today. She enjoyed being on the inside. She also kept her distance in the small car. She knew about the conflict with my mother, she certainly knew I had some mixed feelings about our relationship. So she backed off, and I thought the better of her for it.

  Still, it all felt like manipulation.

  She seemed happy I was back at work she never thought to ask me if I was happy to be back. She knew I had been considering quitting. But of course that would have spoiled the mood.

  We kissed at the airport as I let her go. Her lips were nice and I kissed back but I felt as if I was rehearsing for someone else. I waited until her plane loaded and taxied away and she could no longer see me. I watched the plane fly off and disappear. Then I left.

  I was beginning to not quite like myself. Freda was great in many ways, that was what had attracted me to her. She deserved better. Maybe she was pushing herself on me, but wasn’t I using her? Was she not a great girlfriend? She had status also: great job, independent income, very attractive, good family.

  And somewhere between getting in my car and driving to headquarters, my thoughts flowed from Freda and my personal life to murder.

  A few months ago, I parked my car wherever I wanted, which normally meant in front of the new building, in someone else’s space. Akpan was always annoyed by that. I decided to return to work with as clean a slate as humanly possible, and so for the first time in years parked in my own parking space which was across the new and palatial senior officers building.

  Akpan wanted me back, I wanted to be back, and he would cover my back. There was no point in playing adolescent games and antagonizing him. I would turn over as new a leaf as I could.

  My former Assistant and probably now
again Assistant sauntered out of our old office in the old block as I came out of my Peugeot. He had probably seen me from the window. Ade was grinning.

  “Good morning, boss.”

  “You got that right, Ade. It’ll be good, telling you what to do again.”

  “For the record, I never was okay with the suspension. They did have you on the rules but breaking the rules was how you solved the case. I figured Akpan would reverse the suspension first thing when he climbed upstairs.”

  “He came in person this morning, to visit me in my underwear. I kind of got the feeling he was both giving me a little vacation, and keeping the internal politics to a minimum by keeping me out of sight.”

  Ade nodded. Rules were important to him and I kept breaking them. He wanted to see me acknowledge

  I’d been wrong. I had been. But it did not bother me because it got the job done. And I would break the rules again, if that was what it took. And that was what kept Ade on the reluctant side.

  “Anyway, it’s nice to have you back,” he said as we walked towards the new building, where I would meet Akpan.

  “So he came over to your place in person?”

  I nodded. “He must have smelled something very big for him to want on it. He has a good nose for it. He’s usually right.”

  “It’s the talk of the Department you’re back, and why. They say he has no one else to handle this kind of case, and he needs results fast. Very fast. Both because it’s Puene, and to justify his promotion. So you will have to be Mr. Results.”

  “You mean the kind of detective work that leads to a suspension?”

  “Well, Tammy, you get suspended and he gets promoted. You solve this case and he becomes Chief, not acting Chief. So I imagine he’ll look the other way if you get the results he needs.”

  “Isn’t that how it’s always been?”

 

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