Murder on the Wedding Eve

By Mac Kelly Obison

When Pete Williams, son of Senator Samson Williams, heard an eardrum bursting scream from his bedroom upstairs, little did he know it was the scream of a horrified maid who had just seen his fiance in a pool of blood. She lay dead with a bullet hole through her ear on the night before their wedding. Pete finds himself making funeral arrangements instead of icing the cake on their wedding preparations. Disconcerted with the impractical approach of the cops in cracking the case, Pete hires Tony Justice, an ex-cop with a reputation to expedite the investigation. Tony soon realizes he is not only on the trail of a cold blooded murderer, but also of a ruthless kidnapper. The son of Petes late fiance disappears in mysterious circumstances. It seems a battle of wits between a skillful criminal and a detective with phenomenal potential. Only, the detective doesnt have the luxury of time in his hands. How it plays out, is a mind blower!

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Oct 24, 2013
• ISBN: 9781491881439

Mac Kelly Obison

Mac Kelly Obison is the author of the award-winning novel “The Holy Pagan.” He has also authored three other masterpieces, which equally are getting massive attention across the globe.

Book preview

Contents

Dedication

Acknowledgement

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Epilogue

About The Author

The Fugitive’s Legacy

DEDICATION

To a brother and closest companion, An’Tony Obison and to a friend who gave me a torch light when the sun in my world refused to shine, Seth Asuzu.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

It is what it is because of God’s grace. Be thou glorified!

Words can scarcely elaborate my gratitude to Joanne Kmaid for her ingenious initiative in editing this project. Her resourcefulness is legendary.

Maxwell Ojijo and Ubaid Mirza, your emphatic support is of a class of its own. I am indebted to you guys eternally.

All the Obisons, your moral sustenance and encouragement is something out of this world. God bless ya’ll.

Many thanks to all of you who read ‘The Holy Pagan’ and gave me their feedback. Your comments were a massive motivation to the accomplishment of this book. Peace to ya’ll.

Mac Kelly Obison

Qatar, September 2013

Imagine a world without crime. The cemetery would be less crowded, the prison without a jailbird and I would be jobless. Poor me.

Tony Justice.

PROLOGUE

Tony Justice sat sipping coffee; he had just finished doing justice to his lunch meal of pasta with white cheese and fried ripe plantain. He flipped through the Post Newspaper until he got to the sports column, his favorite. Michael Jordan was on the news again. Several years after retiring from professional basketball, he was still making headlines with his post career antics. Tony preferred to read the sports news before proceeding to the regular news, which was for the most part about politics. It had been a quiet day for him; he wasn’t working on any case so nothing excited his attention. He had just concluded the case of ‘The missing Heir,’ a case that had exhausted his energy, so he definitely welcomed the relaxation. He had stepped out of his office for a solo lunch at a restaurant just across Melburry Street where his office was located.

Tony had recently set up a private investigation firm and recruited a female secretary; he was never short of cases. After his success on ‘The Holy Pagan’ case, his reputation had escalated. His office was constantly flooded with cases, ranging from murder and bank robbery to missing persons and cheating spouses. The manpower of his firm consisted solely of him and his secretary, and that sufficed as far as he was concerned. He would casually use the help of Larry white when not too busy at work; a friend he trusted and worked well with. He sipped what was remaining of his coffee and called for his bill, the waitress, a young lady of about twenty-five, strolled towards him with his bill sandwiched in the bill jacket. She handed it to Tony and flashed a smile. He smiled back, opened the bill jacket and glanced at it for a brief second. He fished out his leather wallet from the back pocket of the wrangler jeans he was wearing, took out a couple of bank notes, placed them inside the bill jacket and said, You can keep the change.

She bowed ever so slightly and said, Thank you sir. As she quietly walked away, she couldn’t help but appreciate this stranger’s generosity. If all the customers were half this generous, she would have set up her own restaurant years ago.

Tony stood up and adjusted the sky blue jacket he was wearing over his white V neck t-shirt, took his bunch of keys from the table and gently strolled out of the restaurant. Once outside, he gazed at his Jasina wrist watch. It was 1:48pm. The temperature was 27 degrees Celsius; too warm he thought. He regretted not driving to the restaurant, as now by heck he was forced to do a ten minutes’ walk back to his office. He took out his cell phone, dialed a number and placed the phone on his right ear. He licked his lower lip and waited for the line to connect

CHAPTER ONE

By the time he got to his office, Tony was slightly sweating. He passively took off his jacket as he approached the lobby. He did not appreciate the heat nor did he welcome leisurely walks. The only thing that inspired his alertness was the scent of an expensive perfume. He looked up with a face you would wear if you were posing for a professional photo shoot. He saw a gentleman seated on one of the two seats by the desk of his secretary; his legs were crossed while talking to someone on his mobile phone. Tony immediately recognized him. It was Pete Williams, the first son of Honorable Samson Williams, a State Senator. Pete had been making continuous newspaper headlines in recent days, in respect to his wedding that was supposed to take place several days ago, but for some reason it never happened. Tony guessed the reason for his visit. When Pete saw Tony, he uncrossed his legs and informed the person on the phone that he would call them later. Pete was about thirty-two years of age, dressed in a maroon shirt tucked inside a black pair of pants and a black jacket. His black shoes were neatly polished and that gave you the impression of a man who cares a great deal about his appearance. His hair was lowly trimmed, but his chin looked like it had gone unshaven for a couple of days. His eyes were doleful but curious. He was around 1.71 meters tall. He stood up and shook hands with Tony. Before he could say anything, Tony’s secretary spoke up, This gentleman here is Mr. Pete Williams. He’s been waiting in the lobby for you, wanting to meet you.

Yeah I know him, Tony said with a smile. He continued, I am sorry for keeping you waiting Pete, please do come into my office. Pete took hold of his sunglasses and the bunch of keys that were lying on the secretary’s desk, and walked behind him.

Tony’s office was about five meters square and was not missing anything befitting a modern day office. A massive desk made of mahogany wood and two chairs of the same make were positioned in the west of the office. An apple laptop was lying on the desk with a couple of files meticulously arranged. Tony clearly had a love affair with books. At the east end of the office was a book shelf containing numerous books, ranging from text books and novels to a vast collection of poetry. The floor was made of creamy tiles that reflected the light rays from the fluorescent bulbs that were popping from the ceiling. Tony took the remote control of the air conditioner hanging on the wall and switched it on. He turned and faced Pete who was looking around the office, humming gently. He offered him a seat. Pete thanked him and sat down. Tony also took a seat behind the desk. Pete dropped his sunglasses and bunch of keys on the desk and said, Quite a nice place you have here.

With a smile, Tony thanked him then offered Pete a drink. Requesting only water, Tony stood up, walked over to the mini refrigerator close to the book shelf, opened it and brought out two small bottles of water. He walked back to his desk and handed one to Pete with a glass then walked back and resumed his seat. Pete opened the bottle and poured some water into his glass. Then Tony spoke up, Mister Pete, to what do I owe this visit?

Pete lifted his glass and gulped a third of its content before responding. He placed the glass back on the table and crossed his legs. He cleared his throat and said, I take it, you must have heard of the tragedy that befell me recently. How my fiancée was found dead the night before our wedding. He paused, held his nose in between his thumb and the index finger, and pulled twice. He continued, She was murdered. She was murdered by that devil’s advocate, Marylyn. Nothing anyone says will make me believe otherwise. Nothing! Her very nature is evil… .

And who is Marylyn? Tony interrupted him.

Pete took a deep breath and tried to relax. You could see a man battling hard to suppress his emotions. I am sorry for my incoherent outburst. You see, I have been struggling extremely hard to get a grip of myself ever since this calamity struck. Sometimes it gets to my head and I go off like that.

It’s OK, I can understand that. You just have to try to control your emotions. Bring me up to speed with all the details, Tony tried to encourage him.

"You see, Marylyn was my girlfriend for eight years before I met my late fiancée Cari. I have a six-year-old daughter with her. Marylyn was a stripper at the time; I met her in one of the clubs where she plied her trade. I was young and foolish, but also deeply in love with her. I wanted to turn the pages in her life and give her a new beginning. I took her away from the tiny single room she was sharing with a friend and rented her a three bedroom apartment. I gave her all the comfort and luxury a lady could ask for. One year later, she got pregnant and we had a daughter whom