Man In Black

By Joseph Nwogo

'Man In Black' is a beautiful work of fiction by Nigerian writer Jospeh Nwogo. If you're an avid action and adventure reader, the 'Man In Black' is just the right read for you.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Publiseer Publishing
• Release date: Aug 18, 2018

Book preview

XXIII

CHAPTER I

Grrrrrrrrng! The doorbell rang.

Who's there? a voice asked.

Bros, na me, answered the caller.

The door opened to reveal a young man of thirty-two, clean shaven and wearing close-cut hair. He was carrying a backpack.

O-hoo, I no talk am, I know say you no fit finish early for your life, complained Chukwudi, his face drawn. He was already getting tired of Segun's lateness.

Okay, I have heard you, Chuks, Segun said. But you see that I just want to iron some clothes. Besides, even the one I intend wearing today is rumpled a bit.

How I wan take know, when you never talk say make I enter, ehn Shege? You harsh o.

Oya come in, Segun beckoned his friend. Did you bring your bike? asked the former.

Eehn, I park am for street. This one wey you dey sweat like this, you don baff? Ah, so you never baff, he said as his friend looked up from his ironing to shake his head.

And you never shave, self. Na wa for you o. You know say we dey start shooting practice today and you want make we go late. You be fine guy, but if you dey do like this everyone, na so girls go dey run comot your side o.

I'm almost done, let me just stop here. I'll go take my bath now, just let the TV keep you company.

Segun's house was a mini-flat in Ikeja, Lagos State. The interior was painted a vibrant green with brown leather chairs in the parlour. A dull brown rug ran all over the floors, while a green rug was over laid on the parlour floor.

Ckukwudi, tired of waiting, settled himself to the 42-inch LED TV which was showing a documentary running on the discovery channel.

Segun and Chukwudi were childhood friends, brought together by the friendship between their parents, the Brainards and the Browns. They had gone to the same secondary school, and later went to the same tertiary institution, a prestigious university in the UK where both studied criminology.

After their graduation, they both came to Nigeria and had been living in their motherland for a year. Just the previous week, Chukwudi had signed up for shooting classes online at a shooting range in Lekki and had persuaded Segun to join.

Regardless of the education he had received, Chukwudi loved speaking pidgin, because according to him, home sweet home, pidgin sweet pidgin. Memories of his own catchphrase brought a smile to his lips. Segun's voice brought him out of his reverie.

Yeah so I'm done, and ready to go, said a transformed, smiley-faced guy.

The sweat on his body, as well as his beard was gone, and he was decked in a slim-fitting white shirt, highlighting his muscles—the results of frequent visits to the gym—camouflage vest, combat pants, and a pair of shining black All Stars. He too carried a bagpack.

O-boy you fresh o, Chuks said admiringly, but if army man catch you...

Never mind, Segun said, dismissing his fears with a wave of his hand. By the way, I like your fingerless gloves," he commented.

Yeah, I heard it helps to get a good grip on guns, so...

An instinctive smile played on Segun's lips. Chuks, abandon his beloved pidgin! Strange things did happen sometimes.

Ehn, I know, ah! Chuks said reading his mind. He glanced at his watch. Ah, see time, 8:05 already, and we suppose reach there by 9 O'clock. oya make we dey go.

And so, by 8:07 a.m., the two friends were speeding off toward Lekki.

MATILDA RUSHED TO HER madam's room in answer to the bell. It had been two days since her madam had taken ill, an illness which restricted her, for the time being, to the confines of her bed. She knocked on the door.

Come in, was the answer. She opened to find her madam sitting up in bed, a fashion magazine in her hands.

Its 9:00 a.m., Matilda, time for my morning pills. Please get me a glass of water from the kitchen.

Okay ma. Matilda rushed off to do as she was told. On getting back to the room, a glass of water held carefully in her hands, she saw Oga Festus, madam's son, discussing with his mother.

Mother just take things easy, okay? Its just one of these minor illnesses. You'll get well before long by God's grace.

Amen, my son. Yes Matilda, drop it there, she said as Matilda gingerly dropped the water on the bedside table and took her leave.

Fly safe o, and don't forget to call when you land in the U.S., okay?

No problem, mother. He glanced at his watch. Let me get going now, my flight will be due in an hour. Don't worry mum, I won't be long, he quickly added as tears welled up in his mother's eyes.

Good bye my son, his mother sniffed

Festus stepped out of her room. He saw Matilda hurrying toward the kitchen.

Matilda, he called, please look after my mother for me o, and keep her company till I come back, understood?

Yes sir, she replied.

And have this, he said, handing her some crisp 500 naira notes.

Use it to buy anything you need.

Thank you sir, she said bending her knees slightly. God bless you sir. She was all smiles.

Don't mention, he said, and then, I'm off. He went out of the house.

Matilda went back to her chores in the kitchen, whistling merrily to herself. She faintly heard him calling to Faruk the gateman to open the gate. She smiled. This money would buy her a lot. That was why she liked working for these rich people. One was always sure of some cash besides their regular salary.

At 3:00 pm, she carried some food and a glass of water on a tray into her madam's room. She placed them on the bed.

Thank you Matilda, her madam said, glancing up from the bible she was reading. She took the glass and swallowed her afternoon dosage.

Matilda, do not bring me dinner, I'm okay for today. And you needn't come in, except when I call for you with the bell. Aside from that, you are free for the rest of the day.

Okay, madam, Matilda said and went out.

At eight o'clock in the night, Matilda locked all the doors in the house, turned off all the lights, and went into her room. She knelt down beside her bed and said a prayer. Then she got into bed and slept off.

MATILDA WOKE UP WITH a start. She turned on the light and checked the time. 3:50 a.m. What was that sound? Ah yes, the bell. Madam needed something. She put on her slippers and went out of her room. She got to her madam's room and knocked. No answer. She knocked again and again. Still no answer.

Was it not her that pressed the bell just now? Matilda mused, she couldn't have fallen asleep so soon, abi...

She pushed the door open and switched on the light.

Madam what is... She stopped and screamed.

On the bed lay her madam, blood flowing freely from a wound on her head. The bedsheets around her head were soaked a deep crimson hue. She was stone-cold dead, her face frozen in a never-uttered scream of agony. Her hands gripped the bed hard, refusing to relax, even in death.

Matilda, still standing in the doorway, screamed again. And she fainted.

MR TOBI, SIR! HIS assistant shouted.

Detective Tobi Akano, 40, head detective, Lagos Island Police Department turned. He was still feeling sleepy. His assistant's call had woken him from his beauty sleep.

Sir! Good morning sir. My call woke you up from sleep, I guess, she added with a chuckle.

Efe, it's 6:30 in the morning. What do you think? Anyway, they say homicide, yes? he asked.

Yes. you need to see the crime scene. A woman was found out passed out at the entrance to the bedroom. I think...

Efe! at least let me see the crime scene first, now.

They went into the house. It was a big duplex on the the island. The detective wondered why rich people met their deaths early.

What is wrong with these criminals for Christ's sake, he thought. Just lay off the crimes and let a family man have some peace!

As they walked through the house, he tossed greetings at other junior detectives and was accorded the respectful replies from his subordinates.

As they ascended the stairs to the bedrooms, the detective did not fail to notice the posh interior.

Funny, isn't it? he chuckled. These guys are always richer than we ourselves who keep them safe.

Yeah, this police work doesn't pay much, she agreed.

They finally got to the bedroom and crossed the police tape. The interior of the bedroom was tastefully furnished, with a magnificent bed and mattress, covered with beautiful bedsheets. A duvet was placed over the bedsheets, with two pillows and a bedside table on either side of the bed.

To one side was a chest of drawers, and behind the bed a wardrobe. To the other side was a chair with a table, on which different make-up kits were placed. A large window was beside the wardrobe. The room was painted a bright pink.

On the bed was the main centre of attraction. The murdered woman, a woman in her middle 50s, lay on the bed, and the look on her face bespoke the agony through which she met her end. There was a bullet wound on her forehead, dried blood all around it. Her hands were still gripping the bedsheets.

Looks like something you see in a horror movie, Efe whispered.

Holy crap, he muttered. Twenty-seven years on the force and he had gotten used to seeing scary crime scenes, but some things could just knock the wind out of one.

So, the cause of death was a bullet, what kind exactly, we have have to find out. A junior detective hurried over.

Sir, press vehicles are pulling up at the gate and are making preparations to...

Let no member of the press get in, understood? Tell the other officers outside, he snapped. These pests of the press. One crime happens and they swoop down in their scores. God!

Detective Akano subjected the room to a careful analysis, while Efe stood by watching quietly. He came upon a recently scratched place on the wall. This he observed for some seconds.

Who was the woman they found at the door? he asked.

The housekeeper. The doctor is still examining her. We can question her when she comes to.

Okay, we're done here. Get the body into a body bag and convey it to the coroner at LIPD, he said to an officer standing by.

Finally! Efe said, relieved. I'm more than ready to leave. This place reeks of death. She eyed the body.

After you, he said gesturing toward the door.

CHAPTER II

O -boy check the place out, Chuks exclaimed.

I'm sure they have just about every weapon existing, Segun said, admiring the guns at the shooting range.

After confirming registration and other details, the beginners' class were herded into a large hall. A man presented their group teacher.

Good day ladies and gentlemen, he began. This is Miss Maryanne Okolo, she will be teaching your class. She is one of our finest weapons experts, so please, if you do not understand anything, feel free to ask her, okay?

Yes sir, they chorused.

Miss Okolo was a young lady of twenty-nine. She had on a pair of recommended glasses, and her warm smile revealed a set of perfectly white teeth.

Okay guys, welcome to the shooting range. As he said, I will be your class instructor. I hope we'll all have a wonderful time. Well, the instruction for beginners is that we take a few our of the guns at the range, so if you'll all please come this way, we shall start.

She led them to a showcase.

In the shotgun category we have the Mossberg 500 pump shotgun. It is called a pump shotgun because you'll have to reload everytime you fire. You reload by pushing the magazine chamber back like this. She demonstrated.

You push the magazine chamber back to the reload and then push it back into place when you're done.

The result was the click which everyone was familiar with from action movies.

"If you hate manual reloading then you'll love the Atchisson Assault shotgun also known as AA-12, a fully automated shotgun with 5-round boxmagazine, 20-round drummagazine, gas-operated automatic fire and a cyclic rate of fire at 360 rounds per minute. Trust me, you need to see it in action. Now, don't look confused, you'll be trained on how to use it in due course. This is just a tour.

Over here we have the rifle section so everyone move over please.

The processsion went past a cleaner who was mopping the floors. Segun greeted the sour-faced woman and got a grunt in reply.

Just so you know, all rifles in this section are millitary grade. First is the AK-103 assault rifle. Its rounds measure 7.62X39mm and has very rapid fire capability. Well, we don't have much time so we'll just proceed to the last one. This one is called the BU-43, short for Bio Universal. It gets it's name from it's 'Bio-Aim' functionality.

What does 'Bio-Aim' mean? a female voice asked.

Everyone turned to see the source of the question. It was a very young lady who looked white, but with hair that told otherwise. Her skin was very light, but not white. Half-caste, obviously. Everyone else turned to the teacher to hear the answer to the question.

But for Segun, it was a different story.

Her voice had shaken him out of his attention to the instructor. He thought he had never heard anything like it. Her voice rang loud and clear and sounded as though she were in song. Her hourglass figure did not serve to help matters. Her jet-black hair swished from side to side as she walked, entrancing him like a hypnotic pendulum.

Good question, she said nodding her head. Shows that you pay attention. Well, 'Bio-Aim' refers to the ability of a fully automated firearm to select targets completely on it's own. This last part she said with an emphasis on every word.

The 'oohs' and 'aahs' she heard more than repaid her for the information she gave.

Very cool, right? By the way, what's your name? she asked.

Belinda.

Okay, Belinda, there are also sniper rifles which support the 'Bio-Aim' functionality, which you'll see over there at that showcase. They moved forward.

This one...

But Segun was no longer listening. He just gaped at Belinda as the others walked. He was lucky to have been seen by only Chuks, who set him right with a prompt tap on the head.

Bros, shey na learn you come learn or na woman, you come find? he whispered harshly. No distract me tor here o.

Who's distracting you? he retorted with a sharp whisper as he hurried on to join the rest.

One more look at Belinda told Segun he would enjoy his time at the range very much. Very much indeed.

DETECTIVE TOBI GOT out of his car and walked toward the LIPD, his ever-present assistant by his side, following like a faithful dog. The press members were all lined up outside, demanding a few minutes with the head detective.

He, on the other hand, hated things like these, and as he waved the reporters off, he walked faster to reach the gate.

He was about to go through the gate when out came Chief Rikau.

Abdul Rikau, a slightly obese man in his late 50s and sporting a potbelly was LIPD's Chief of police. The detective saluted him and the Chief eased him with wave of his hand.

Good morning sir, Efe greeted.

Good morning, Efe. How do you do? he responded.

I'm fine, sir.

Yes, Tobi, how are things going on the case? he asked impatiently. The members of the the public want answers. They want to be reassured, he snapped, slightly raising his voice. The press members were not missing out on any of the action.

I'm going to get right into it with my team, sir.

Well, be quick about it, he said, clearly agitated.

Within detective Akano, a volcano erupted. He wanted to tell the Chief how he had started on the case in his mind. He wanted to tell him how stressed out he was. He wanted to tell him to piss off. But instead, he just said:

I'll try my best, sir.

Please do, he returned and hurried off.

The detective went into the building. Inside, there was a buzz of activity, with police officers and others milling about. He went straight to homicide unit, where he knew his team was.

Everyone got up and chorused a greeting to their superior. The computer operator, Cole, hurriedly minimised his facebook homepage and stood up with the others to mumble a greeting.

The detective answered their greetings and smiled a little. He alone understood his team, and they understood him. Time to get to business.

Cole, load it up, he said, motioning to the large screen in front of the conference table, around which everyone had taken their seats.

The screen came on, and on display was the crime scene, the house of the crime, and the body as it was found.

Have they brought the body yet?

Not yet, sir, but I spoke to the medical team. They're on their way.

Tell the coroner I want the analysis of the bullet and a full medical report.

Okay sir.

Okay, let's see about the victim. Name?

Ms. Felicia Durojaiye.

Age?

55.

Occupation?

Owns a boutique at er... He peered harder at the screen. Victoria Island.

Husband?

Divorced. Relatives are estranged, but she has one son, Festus Durojaiye.

Typical loner, he muttered. What about the son, where is he now?

He travelled to America yesterday morning.

Took off the day of the murder. Isn't that suspicious sir? Efe asked.

Right. Cole, look up the passenger lists of all yesterday morning's U.S.-bound flights. Find out if he truly left the country and by which airline.

Right away, sir, Cole responded, his fingers clacking away at a keyboard.

And yes, there's something I've been thinking about. It has to do with the position of the body and the bullet, the detective piped up, gesticulating.

Let's hear it, sir, a junior detective said, sitting up.

"You see, the window was open, so no glass was broken. I examined the room, and I know no one else was there.

So let's say the bullet came in from the window. I saw a scratch on the wall opposite the bed, where a bullet possibly ricocheted off the wall. You all have seen the room, haven't you?

Everyone in the room nodded their heads.

So you know that the deceased's head backed the window, and the bullet came in through the front, not the back. So it is possible that it came in though the window, ricocheted off the wall, and went into.the front of the head. A lethal shot.

Sounds like the work of a sniper, Efe offered.

A sniper, no doubt. But you are forgetting that even with a sniper rifle, pulling off such a shot would be next to impossible. So our sniper is a highly trained one. That is a fact, he finished.

Some of the detectives took notes. Then Cole spoke up.

He left the country yesterday, sir. Dana flight U-103. He's making preparations to return.

I hear you, Cole. Notify me when he gets back.

No problem, sir.

Efe answered a call, excused herself, and was back shortly to whisper in the detective's ear.

Tobi looked up sharply.

Okay, so guys, I want you to find out everything about this woman, her boutique, her daily schedule, her son, her social life, everything. I'll go talk to her housekeeper. We meet here tomorrow. Good morning.

And with that, he and Efe left.

CHAPTER III

The woman stared straight ahead, unbllinking, hardly seeing. The events of the previous day had shaken her more than she thought.

The woman was no other than Matilda Ayegbeni, the housekeeper to Mrs Felicia Durojaiye.

Upon waking up from her faint, she was a little happy that it was all a dream, but a look at her surroundings and the faces of the LIPD medical team told her that the murder was no dream.

Then there was the position of the murdered woman. The blood-soaked sheets. The expression on her face. The wound on her head. All would stay imprinted on Matilda's mind for eternity.

Upon getting her bearings at the clinic, the woman had burst into tears, and only the invitation of her brother had pacified her a bit and kept her thus till this very moment. It was on this brother's chest that she laid her head, her eyes—red, puffy eyes—staring.

Not even the arrival of the detective and his assistant brought her out of her thoughts. Concern was plain on his face, even more plain on his assistant's.

Both took seats facing Matilda and her brother's. Much as the detective hated to add to this woman's pain, his job demanded it. He took the bull by the horns.

Thanks for coming, Mr er... he faltered.

Dayo. I'm her elder brother.

We just want to ask her a few questions, and you can go home.

No problem, but please do not stress her.

We'll try.

Matilda sat up. Detective Akano regarded her pitifully.

I'm very sorry about what happened.

She nodded.

Was there anything unusual on that day?

My madam had been ill for two days and I brought everything she needed to her room. Her son travelled on the second day, the day she was... She paused. The detective broke in quickly.

Okay, did she give you any special instructions?

"She told me, after I brought her lunch and she took the afternoon dose of her pills, that I need not bring her dinner, and that she would ring if she wanted anything. There's a bell connected from her room to the kitchen, living room, and my room.

She rang in the middle of the night around after 3 o'clock. She paused to remember. Yes, it was some minutes past three, I remember checking the time. I made my way to her room and after knocking, she didn't respond. Even after I tried again and again, it was still the same thing. Her voice was already shaking.

It was when I opened the door that I saw that she...that she... And she burst into a fresh round of tears.

Her brother tried to soothe her. Gradually, she calmed down. The detective knew that the interview was officially over.

Thank you very much, Matilda. You may be going home now. I assume she will be staying with you? he asked her brother.

Yes, she will now, he affirmed.

Goodbye then, and once again, I am sorry.

He and Efe stood up and left. Once outside, each was busy with their thoughts.

Poor woman, Efe said reflectively. She really felt sorry for her.

I pity her, he replied. From her explanation, though, the woman still had time to ring the bell before she got there, but she was dead by that time.

Apparently, yes.

Well... he trailed off.

They went into homicide unit once again. Cole was still busy with the computer. He looked up as they entered.

The coroner has gotten the body, sir. Here is the report. He handed a file to the detective.

Detective Akano glanced through the report. The bullet had gone through the woman's forehead and bored a hole through her brain. Had it just grazed the brain, she would have gotten off with just mental complications. But the bullet went too far in, and it was over for her.

The bullet itself measured 7.61X51mm. It was a NATO type cartridge, fired from an M21 Sniper Weapon System, a semi-automatic sniper rifle with 20-round box magazine.

It was fired by a sniper with enough skill to ricochet it off the wall and keep it on a straight course.

Okay, so it was a sniper, he said to himself.

This person had skills, high enough to outmatch any criminal he had ever dealt with, but he would try his best, and see what came of it.

IT WAS 7 P.M. IN THE evening. The two friends were at Segun's house, after their first day of shooting practice.

After the tour, Miss Okolo had handed them over to a trained millitary veteran, a field agent who was to be their field instructor. He had subjected them all to hours of gruelling training, using a 9mm shotgun for starters. He was a strict, no-nonsense man, and so no one dared complain.

When they went on lunch break, he instructed them to eat light, so as not to feel tired when they returned.

After the day ended they had gone back to the mainland on Chuks' bike. They were famished, so it was no wonder they ate like ravenous wolves.

Segun had whipped up toast bread and egg, to be washed down with a pack of Hollandia yoghurt.

Chuks belched loudly. O-boy, the hungry still dey do me o. Abeg, you fit do fresh round?

Segun smiled a little. I thought I was the only one. He stood up and headed for the kitchen.

This one you are shortening my ration like this, you will re-imburse me o, he said jokingly.

Abeg, bone that one. Make I satisfy my brother here, he said patting his stomach. Other things go follow.

But the yoghurt is finished o, he called from the kitchen.

No problem. Water fit still do the job.

Segun was out shortly, carrying the ‘fresh round’ on a tray. They ate quietly for some time, while watching a football match on the T.V. Chuks faced Segun suddenly.

O-boy, wetin dey work you self? See as you just dey look that girl like say you wan swallow am. Shey you never see girl before?

Segun's bread stopped midway to his mouth. Chuks' statement had made him suddenly relive that moment at the range. He turned sharply.

Yes, Chuks, didn't you see her face? That girl was damn beautiful. And her hair, her shape, her...her voice...

Belinda's voice replayed itself in his head. He would give anything to hear that voice again. That voice that left him stupefied. That voice...What was her name again? Mary? Suzanne? Linda? Or was it..."

Chai, so my friend is lovesick, Chuks said, looking at Segun like someone who just lost his mind.

What's that her name again?

Belinda na, abi no be...

Yes, Belinda! he shouted like he had just won the jackpot. Ah, what a name, he said dreamily.

See, bros abeg leave that one jare, Chuks said, closing the topic. Make we watch this ball first, he said focusing his attention on the T.V. He was not about to watch his best friend make a fool of himself for the second time in one day.

Segun, on the other hand, turned to watch the match with interest, at least for now. There would be plenty of time to think about Belinda tomorrow. Yes, tomorrow...

DETECTIVE AKANO WAS in Chief Rikau's office, being thoroughly lambasted. His dislike for the man increased. Why could he not go into the field and experience the thrill of chasing bad guys? No, but he preferred office work. For the meantime, he kept mum.

I don't understand you, Tobi. Just one homicide happens, just one! But it has been a week now, and you have not been able to bring the culprit to justice. When I asked you how far you had gone, you said you were going to get right into it with your team, sir", he said, mimicking him in a derogatory manner. The detective wished he could capture him on video.

I wonder if we pay you just to investigate. We pay you to get results! he said, banging his fists on his table. He now spoke quietly.

Look, LIPD has already made a name for itself, and i will not let you make caricature of it. Now, what do you have to say for yourself?

Sir, we have delved into this case and gotten most of the facts we can hope to get. This guy is not perfect—no criminal is—sir. We need him to make one slip, just one slip and...

What rubbish! he shouted, cutting the detective short. "So you mean you want this guy to