PATRON OF TERROR

by Adimchinma Ibe

  I nodded.

  He stood and walked to a filing cabinet on the right side of the table where meetings were held. He took a file jacket and dropped it on my lap, then stood there.

  “This was not in the file you have. I told you about it, thought you should see it. I mean, Dr. Vincent Puene’s statement, filed a week ago. He came in here very upset.”

  He went back around his desk and sat, leaned forward, hands clasped in front of him.

  Okay, I could take a hint. I picked up the file and started to read.

  He really was tense. He could not just sit there. “He walked in here to tell me about a boy who warned him to be much more careful than usual. He could not tell if he was friendly or an enemy, but he felt the threat was real and wanted me to know about it. Given who he is, he just walked into my office. I was busy, and I sent him downstairs, where an officer took the statement. I should have paid more attention.”

  I looked up. “The identity of the boy who told him this was a Pepple? Sodienyie Pepple?” I knew the name.

  “Yes. Dr. Vincent knew him, of course. For a long time. He’s from the Governor’s place in the Riverrine. He said he appealed to the boy to tell him more, but the boy wouldn’t bulge. He told Dr. Vincent he was sent to warn him, that was all, and then he left.”

  “Nothing on who sent Sodienyie to warn the doctor? Do we know who sent him.”

  “Maybe. He was just a messenger. He probably knew little and what he did know, he knew better than to tell Dr. Vincent. I knew at the time Dr. Vincent was more upset than usual. There had been threats before, but nothing like this. Coming from Sodienyie, from a Pepple, Dr. Vincent told me, he was alarmed.”

  I nodded. “So Sodienyie warns Puene. A week later, Puene is dead. And you’ve brought in the boy while I’ve been out running around, chasing shadows?”

  “I had Ade bring him in and question him. He told us nothing more than he told Puene. We had to release him.”

  “It might have been nice to know about this when you handed me the case.”

  “I gave you the basics. I remembered the statement and the boy after you left my office yesterday morning, and told Ade. If you had checked in with your office more frequently, you would have known. I’m too busy putting out fires, Tammy,” he said, his voice sinking, but just for a moment.

  “Well, let’s say it out loud,” I said out loud. “The boy. He’s Senator Pepple’s kid brother, tight?”

  Akpan nodded.

  “The boy doesn’t have to tell us who sent him. It was the Senator or one of his staff.”

  Akpan nodded again. “Probably.”

  I picked up the file. Akpan knew I was taking it with me.

  “I think we’ll be bringing the kid back in as a material witness, and inviting the Senator for questioning.”

  Arresting Senator Pepple would be a political nightmare. One more nightmare to add to the pile. The Puene murder investigation going nowhere, and now we were talking about arresting the relatives of important people which would logically lead to arresting the important people themselves. Political damage, internal damage, it was probably unavoidable now.

  I was impressed when Akpan looked at me and shrugged.

  He was taking his new career splashing around in the toilet pretty well. But given the Pepples connection, well, who won’t. The Pepples were very powerful.

  He was better at staying cool than I had thought. Or maybe his career did not mean as much to him as getting the job done.

  As I started to walk out, he asked whether I wanted to hear the rest.

  I stopped and returned to the chair. He was getting it off his chest. I had my guilt, he had his.

  “It never got better after that peace rally. I had a couple of men working on it, from the inside. The trouble is, the politics are never settled, but it did not seem that bad. I should have seen it coming.”

  “I don’t see why.”

  He looked at me with no lies on his face. “There was another warning sign a little over a week ago, at a rally. Dr. Vincent’s supporters were in yet another fight with some Filatei supporters. It was tougher than usual. Then Sodienyie came to warn him. The next day.” He sighed. “It was always rough, but never like this. You’ve seen it, Tammy. They don’t seem to be content with intimidating opponents or the kids killing each other any more.”

  I didn’t say anything, just listening.

  “I see—saw--him regularly,” Akpan went on. “He came in the afternoon after the rally last week. I asked him how it had gone, and he said he would file another complaint, that the Filatei boys were at it again.”

  “What happened?”

  15

  He turned in his swivel chair to face the window overlooking the yard. He could see everyone coming and going, reduced to a manageable size. In only two months he had developed a reputation for noticing previously unnoticed behavior in the yard, and calling up some surprised constables.

  “You’ve heard about it,” he continued, over his shoulder. “Puene had been driven home. You know where he lived. Not much security, but he’d recently put in a gate and guard. His car pulled in and his wife came out of the house to greet him.

  “At the same time, a handful of armed youths pulled up in a white Mitsubishi bus. He recognized some from an incident at the peace meeting, although he did not know any names. Thugs spilled out of the bus, knocked down the guard before he could lock the gate, then ran up to Dr. Vincent and surrounded him.

  “A tall lanky young man with tough features rode up on a Suzuki bike, stopped and watched the scene. Dr. Vincent saw the thugs keep an eye on him, as if waiting for directions.”

  “Our bike rider?”

  “There are lots of thugs on bikes. But, probably, yes. That was why I asked if you wanted to hear the rest. And God, I wished I had taken any of this serious at the time but how could I know this was going to happen. That time I only had ten minutes for him, then I had Sergeant Eze look after him.” He sighed. “At the time it seemed more of the same. Maybe a little more of the same, enough to tell my inside people I thought something was up. I just did not think it would happen so soon.

  “So what did the thugs do?”

  “They just told him to back off from the race and that was the last warning, and they left. Detective, Dr. Vincent got warnings once a week, but they were all rumors, part of the intimidation. The other politicians get them.” His voice trailed off.

  “You’d had to have been psychic, and you did what you took the right steps,” I finally said.

  Akpan turned around. He made a note on his pad about something he had seen in the yard. “Thanks, but I should have done more. Three weeks ago, Dr. Vincent was involved in another dispute between Nigerian Liberal Party and National Conservative Party agents and supporters. It was the usual argument.

  “Dr. Vincent left, but later he heard a group of thugs, led by a National Conservative Party supporter, arrived in two cars. They asked where Dr. Vincent was, but he had already left. So they attacked another Nigerian Liberal Party agent with machetes. He was taken to hospital.

  “I agreed with Dr. Vincent it was escalating, maybe beyond what little control we had. He was worried about his own safety, more than just being roughed up. He would not put it past Filatei to take him out, perhaps with an unfortunate accidental injury that would take him from politics for a year. Dr. Vincent tried to make a formal complaint to the Commissioner of Police but he was busy in a meeting, so he came to see me.”

  “You did not mention any of this to me before,” I said.

  Akpan looked at me. “Stop being petulant. It was all in the files.” He looked at the wall. There was a visible clean space where something had hung. I remembered what: the former Chief’s award for becoming Chief.

  “I asked the IPO assigned the local case to find if the thugs did come from Filatei. He hasn’t reported back. So,” He looked at me. “What now?”

  “Anyone pick up Sodienyie when Ade finished with him?”


  “Sam Inemo.” Akpan said simply.

  Ruth’s ex-husband, and the ex-cop? This is becoming more and more entangled.

  “Inemo is Sodienyie’s uncle?” Akpan volunteered.

  “Some people around here still feel Inemo was not treated well,” I said to Akpan.

  “Yes.” Was all he said.

  This was getting so much worse.

  Detective Samuel Inemo resigned from the force after being labeled a militant sympathizer.

  Fair enough, given he had warned his cousin, Wariboko who leads the strongest of the Delta militant groups, The Niger Delta Movement for Self Determination (NDMSD). Inemo had warned Wariboko of an impending police raid. When the police arrived, Wariboko was long gone. When his tip-off came to light, they went through Inemo’s recent work, and found one of his investigations exonerated Wariboko of any of the political killings in the last election. Not that there was actual proof Wariboko had actually killed anyone, but there was sure a lot of suspicion the boys who perpetrated violence in the elections were from his group.

  When the media heard about it, there was a firestorm. Inemo quickly quit. But people also understood: it was at least partly family. Ebiegberi

  Wariboko was his first cousin, younger brother to Sodienyie’s father. Sodienyie’s father was eldest of the Pepple family. The Pepples were heavily involved in the struggle for the Niger Delta. Senator Pepples was the family leader. A Senator of the Federal Republic of Nigeria, he was the strongest voice in government crying out the agitations of the Niger Delta. Did I say this was getting more and more entangled? A small web connected with people that I know and are close to me.

  Anyway, I watched it all, thinking the media had blown it all out of proportion. This was Nigeria, after all. Supporters from the other side also tipped off their own militants or thugs. If Inemo had not quit he likely would only have been suspended for a couple of weeks. After all, no one was killed. In fact, Inemo’s tip made everyone happy. When the police arrived there was no one there to arrest and they were able to go home in one piece.

  I got up.

  I knew Inemo. He was a friend. The issue for him was not politics, it was family.

  “I’ll talk to Inemo, yes” I said, standing. “Maybe you should have the boy tailed.”

  “He did not leave the building alone. I thought, let’s leave him be, and see what he does.”

  I held the new file. “I was about to say that. Is there anything else I can think of that you should do that you’ve already done?”

  He opened a drawer, pulled out a sheet of paper and gave it to me.

  I looked at it and started to laugh.

  In Akpan’s handwriting was my typical list: incidents, motives, witnesses, to do lists. I saw a couple of things he’d missed, one I’d missed.

  16

  After I left Akpan, I went over to the old building and found Ade working hard on a file. I apologized for not coming by yesterday or staying in touch. He said he understood: I had been off work a little over two months, then suddenly I’m back on the job.

  “Thanks. The last two days have been getting up to speed. Well, it can’t last long. How’s the wife?”

  “Expecting any day now.”

  “I’m still ready to baby sit.”

  “We really appreciate all your help, this last month. She hasn’t been able to do a lot on her own.”

  I sat in my chair. My desk was clear, apart from some files Ade had placed on it. “Okay, fill me in on everything I’ve missed,” I said, and he did. He supplied some details, but otherwise there was nothing new.

  “You’ve been working on the chart?” I asked.

  He pointed behind me. I turned. The opposite wall was a large bulletin board. About two thirds of it was covered with notes, in neat sections: deaths, scenes, witnesses, motives, suspects, follow-up needed, lab work.

  The last reminded me. “The latest from Dr. Laz is that the driver probably died from natural causes. Are you suspicious?”

  “You mean my personality or about the driver being dead?”

  “Your personality. The driver’s already done. Although currently he may have more personality than you.” He said nothing.

  I remembered something and smiled. “I missed this delightful banter, Ade, at home alone. Freda works full time. It was very quiet. Although I got some from your wife whenever I helped her.”

  “She thought you needed to get back to work.”

  “Both of you can back off. Last week I spent an afternoon helping her and her mother go shopping.”

  “Okay. I owe you. But to answer you, I don’t think the driver was murdered.”

  I nodded. “I agree. I looked through his room, met some of the tenants, spent some time walking around outside. Someone would have seen a stranger enter the building, and the driver’s room was three floors up. And he seemed to die in his sleep with no struggle.”

  “He was in a very bad accident. I say, he was discharged too early.”

  “He probably would not have told us more anyway. The guy on the motorcycle’s face was covered by the helmet. Paul was the Puene’s long time driver. It doesn’t make sense any other way than the biker came out of nowhere. If the driver had recognized the biker, he would have told the constables.”

  “And why did he take an unprotected route home?” At the moment Ade sounded just like Akpan yesterday morning at my place. But already came to the conclusion it was a dead end being suspicious of the driver.

  I shrugged. “We’ll probably never know. It was shorter for sure. Maybe he figured it was safer, he could see another car coming a long way off.”

  “So, dead end.”

  I left Ade to finish his reports and went around the building, letting them all know I was back. Most seemed to have regarded me as having been on an extended vacation, and therefore I deserved no special welcome. It was eerie, the civil service. The atmosphere was the same, everyone was friendly on the surface. It was as if I’d been away for a long weekend. People come and go but nothing really changes.

  Okay, I’d settled in and now I settled for what I had to do. I was resigned to calling on my resigned former colleague, Sam Inemo. He was tied in with the Pepples family, he was the only lead I had. I have work that angle to see what he knows, and if the Pepples did more than just warn Peune of an imminent danger. If they were the danger themselves. Can’t put it past them, given their violent tendencies in their struggle for the emancipation of the Niger Delta as they called it.

  Back in my car, drinking some of the water—I’d been through three bottles already that day--driving to his house in RumuIgbo.

  My cell rang as I negotiated the Rumuola Bend. I picked it up, looked at the screen, hit ‘talk’.

  “So, what’s up, doc?” I asked him.

  “Natural causes confirmed,” Laz replied, “No sign of foul play. He died from internal hemorrhaging. In the accident he broke his sternum. His lung was pierced.

  Tiny puncture but fatal. There was no outward sign. If he had been in the hospital, he would have been saved. The injury was caused by the accident. Looks despite the airbag he had an impact that broke the sternum and lodged it in the rib cage. It could have been the airbag itself. Or the movement from the rescue team getting him out of the car. It could have pushed the bone further into the lungs. He was in and out of consciousness at the time. Later, in the hospital, he would have been lying down and would seem better. Looks as if the medical team attributed his chest pain to all the bruising he had suffered for sure as hell, he must have experienced a lot of chest pain because of the wound. The x rays showed nothing.”

  “No sign at all he was murdered last night? Nothing that maybe he was hit, and that caused the chest bone to break?”

  “No. But it is possible the fatal injury itself did not occur until he’d gone home. Maybe it occurred on the way home, just from moving around. Nasty way to die, detective. Alone at night. Drowning in his own blood.” He said I’d get the final report later today. “How
is it, being back at work?” he asked afterwards.

  “I don’t know. I haven’t been able to do any detecting yet. My only witness just died before I can interview him.” I hung up.

  It was about 2.30p.m and the sun was at the zenith. Too bad my car did not have air conditioning. I wound down the driver’s window. I had finished the bottle of water by the time I pulled up in front of Inemo’s apartment block.

  It was not different from the driver’s.

  Not much different at all, except the driver’s was a bit more run down. His room was on the ground floor. It was cooler inside, just from the shade. I found his room as a young man finished using one of the toilets, came out, saw me, immediately figured me for a cop, and stopped.

  I smiled. “Don’t go back in the toilet. It’s okay. I’m not here for you.”

  He nodded, walked quickly past me, went into his own room and closed the door behind him very quietly.

  When no one was in the hallway, I rang the bell on

  Inemo’s door and waited. I decided I was harsh, writing that the building was run down. A doorbell was really something.

  Sam was a tall man, taller than me. Heavier than me. More muscles than me. It looked as if he still worked out. He opened the door, looked down at me without surprise and with a small smile, then stepped back to allow me inside.

  “You didn’t call”, he said. “How’d you know I’d be here?”

  “Do you have anywhere else to go?”

  I walked in. He closed the door from several pairs of prying eyes behind slightly opened doors.

  “It’s been what, a month since I’ve been here?” I said, looking around. He lived since he moved out of his apartment. In one lousy room. Not even a TV. He did not have to live like this. He could get a well paying job as a chief security officer somewhere, especially with his connections. Yet after he resigned, and after Ruth kicked him out, he decided to become a private eye. PI’s are not common around here. The ones around were mostly hired thugs.

  “What could bring you to my house? And after all this time. How long has it been, Tammy?”