A Sketch of Murder: When Secrets Come Calling

By Precious Titilayo Idienumah

Temilade Martins feels shes seen all crime has to offer, but her life is about to change when the victim found almost outside town happens to be a close relative.

With a sudden resolve to unravel the mystery behind the murder, she steps out on a mission that brings her face to face with a past she would rather leave behind and a ruthless killer determined to keep a dark secret hidden. She must act fast or become the next victim.

In a race against time, all she has to hold on to is her faith, because the killer isnt the only one after her heart.

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Sep 15, 2015
• ISBN: 9781512707731

Precious Titilayo Idienumah

Precious is a lawyer, youth minister, and lover of contemporary gospel music. Raised in Southern Nigeria, she started writing as a child. She sees writing as God’s gift and an opportunity to celebrate His grace upon her life. She prays her stories draw people to Calvary’s cross and Heaven where the music never ends.

Book preview

ONE

Truly, this only I have found:

That God made man upright, But they have sought out many schemes.

Ecclesiastes 7:29

112 Down River Lane. A body had been found.

A police officer stood inches away from the body. With both hands interlocked carefully behind, a dithered look creased every corner of his forlorn face.

On the other end of the scarcely plastered wall, sonorous melodies rend the air, bringing to close heartfelt supplications.

A tree shuddered; driving out the blistering cold that had seeped unwanted though its branches. Underneath, curious feet shifted, with hands hurling back at the earth twigs and broken leaves.

Eager lips exchanged whispers, at a loss for why the victim had chosen to sojourn at an abandoned fuel station. Cell phones towered above heads as flashes of camera light tore through the morning air.

Every five minutes, a new face emerged, save the gentleman in the brown jacket, an umbrella in one hand and a finely bound piece of leather in the other. Face covered in streaks of dust, his well combed beard ran longer than the Nile.

Towering well over six feet, he tipped his toes an inch higher, locking his gaze on the victim’s body.

Hands sprawled across the grass, she lay in an almost crucifix position. Her face took on the appearance of a near grimace and beads of dew sat in tiny drops on the necklace hung around her neck. The gentleman craned his neck higher seeking a better view. He wasn’t sure but the pendant he could tell was shaped like a cross.

Large amounts of map-like shaped blood formed across the blue turtle neck long sleeved shirt the victim wore with a few drops trailing their way to her black skirt.

So I’m speculating time of death to be around say— the medical examiner stole a glance at his watch and continued, twelve hours.

At Jason’s raised eyebrow, he added, It’s just a speculation. The lady has been dead at most twelve hours— he raised his head and squinted at Jason – You see her eyes?

Jason nodded, giving the body a closer stare as the medical examiner’s hand trailed around the victim’s eyes.

If she were fairer, there would be a visible discolouration, but for obvious reasons, there isn’t. However, they’re slightly darker than the pictures of her which you showed me—just slightly though. Then there’s the cloudy appearance of the cornea, give it a few more hours and it goes opaque.

Jason made a sound that showed he quite understood.

That tells me a lot. The temperature must have been unusually fair enough last night, causing rigor mortis to set in pretty fast. We’ll know more when a full autopsy is carried out but she died as a result of a knife wound made too close to her heart at two consecutive times and a rope around her neck which I’ll say is similar to—that. He pointed the tip of his ball point pen at the lace of Jason’s shoes. I can’t be definite about the type of knife used just yet. He looked up at Jason and gave an exaggerated smile. But then again, that wouldn’t be too important to you would it? We still haven’t found either murder weapon yet.

Nodding, Jason let his gaze travel through the curious crowd. The presence of a medical examiner at the crime scene was one step in the midst of a thousand, but still he was appreciative.

Spotting the first officer on the scene, he smiled in weak humour, recalling their conversation earlier that morning.

When you arrived, the victim’s car was over there? The officer followed the trail of Jason’s hands and nodded.

But you got in and drove it over here. It wasn’t a question.

The officer nodded again.

And that would be because?

I felt it would make everyone’s job easier having the car close to the crime scene. Besides, I had to search the car. The officer stood, broad-chested, unappreciative of his investigative skills being put on trial.

And her handbag?

It was lying beside her car. It contained her driver’s license which actually helped me identify her. The officer held his head high, proud of himself.

Nodding in weak commendation, Jason let his lips part halfway, swallowing his words of protest before they hit the damp grass. Not being familiar with contaminating a crime scene wasn’t a short coming; at least in this part of the world.

You didn’t happen to protect your hands in any way when you handled the victim’s possessions did you? Jason hoped he could still make use of some evidence at the crime scene; whatever good that would do considering the poor biometric database the Police force controlled.

Throwing his head backwards, the officer laughed heartily. Seeing the lost look on Jason’s face, he shook his head making an exclamation in the local vernacular.

I understand the changes you are trying to make and we will do our best to keep up with you, but things don’t quite work that way around here. We may not be as sophisticated as you expect us to be, but we get the job done. All you have to do is tell everyone you are on top of the situation and if you give us a chance, in the next two hours, we will parade not less than thirty suspects for you. And they always confess; trust me, they do. Jason had remained speechless.

Placing both hands akimbo, he sighed.

Bringing his mind back to the present, his eyes travelled to the body, stretched on a gurney. She didn’t look like she had put up much of a fight. Remembering when he first arrived at the scene, a sick feeling stung the deepest parts of his stomach. Eyelids open, she lay with her back against the wet morning grass. Her round brown eyes held fear. She had probably begged for her life. Again somewhere in those eyes…deep down, he could see her plea for justice.

I should be on my way now. I will see to it that you get a full report soon. You may want to start working out all your ends as to why whoever it was wanted her dead. Good luck.

Yeah thanks Tola. How soon will that report be? Jason pressed two of his fingers against his forehead, massaging a mounting headache.

Tola smiled. I’ll try my best but don’t forget that the medical examiner’s office is short staffed. These things take time considering…

Yeah, Jason responded - Anytime as soon as possible will be fine.

He understood Tola perfectly. The Force still had miles away to go but they were making progress.

The medical examiner dictated orders as the body was lifted into the ambulance which was down the lane in minutes.

So much for a beautiful morning. Jason said, beckoning on the officers rounding up at the scene.

The Channel eight van pulled up, with reporter Laide Roberts running towards him. He supervised as officers latched a hook to the victim’s car, the other end hitched to a police towing van.

Brushing away an insect that had crawled up his sleeve, Jason moved towards the already dwindling crowd, in search of the gentleman he’d noticed earlier, a concerned look wearing out all the lines on his face.

Seeing no one bearing such semblance, he sighed, turning his attention towards the reporter traipsing hurriedly towards him.

Hello Officer, got a few minutes?

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Derin lifted the comb and pointed its tip at a strand of Desola’s hair. She’d insisted that Saturday mornings would be tagged ‘girl time’ with no one interrupting the moment she shared with Derin. They were best friends and these moments were priceless for him. He knew he’d do everything within his power to ensure they stayed that way.

Today, she chose to engage him in a chore— loosening all the tiny braids that occupied her eight year old hair.

With two hours gone, Derin had hardly gotten past a dozen. He slumped his shoulders, running the comb through his newly shaven hair.

You’re supposed to be working on my braids. Desola rolled her eyes skyward casting him a reprimanding glance. If we keep up this way, we will never get it done by noon.

Derin placed the comb aside, lifting her and turning her to face him. Remind me again why we’re not snapping at these braids with the scissors— that way everyone goes away happy and on time.

She gave a weak sigh, shaking her head sideways. Men!

Tilting his head, he hid the grin forming at the edges of his lips and feigned surprise.

Sorry? Crisscrossing both legs under him as he sat on the mat, he waited for her to continue.

You said it already. They are braids so you can’t just snap at them with the scissors. We do that and you’ll explain to everyone what you did with my hair.

Right. Pressing his thumb against his lips, he thought for a while. I have an idea.

Eager eyeballs shot out as she tugged at the hem of her dress. Let’s hear it.

He grabbed a face cap and silently sent a prayer upwards that his plan would work. How about we cover this up and my terrible braid loosing skills can remain our little secret while you take me on a walk to the lady who made these fine braids.

Desola jumped, putting on the cap and turning towards the mirror. You have to promise though that we can get ice cream on the way back.

Deal. By the time Derin grabbed his wallet and picked up Desola’s jacket, she was already waiting outside.

TWO

…Behold, the fear of the Lord, that is wisdom, And to depart from evil is understanding. Job 28:28

Recognizing his deep baritone carrying through the toned down television set, Jason looked up from his cushioned seat and stared at his image splashed on the TV screen as his speech at the crime scene was being broadcasted— once again reminding him of how good looking he was. Pointing the remote, he pressed hard, enhancing his voice as it carried through, filling the entire office.

The body of prominent model Tara Omolade has just been carried away by the medical examiner for an inquiry into her death. The entire Police department extends our condolences to Miss Omolade’ family at this time. We’re appealing to anyone with useful leads on this unfortunate incident to please contact the police.

Well, there you have it. Tara Omolade born October 7th…"

Muting the sound, he sent his fingers under his chin, buckling them in place.

A knock sounded and he lifted midway from his seat, craning his neck towards the door.

Sir. Jason stood straight, making a salute.

Jason, Cole, his supervisor smiled, motioning for him to take his seat. Busy morning you had today.

That would be putting it mildly sir. Jason reciprocated the smile turning his gaze to Cole’s companion.

Right, sorry. This is Somto Ibe. He is from forensics. He will be rendering his assistance on the investigation. The governor’s pulling in every resource he can. This case has to be closed before the elections. He doesn’t want any unsolved murders hanging over the possibility of another four years.

Well that’s a relief. Offering his hand, both men exchanged pleasantries, grateful that the much talked about but never seen forensic lab could be helpful on this one.

He’s from out of town and will be around for as long as he’s needed so please keep him in the loop.

No problem Sir.

And Jason, no stone unturned on this one.

I’ll make sure of that. Cole stood and Jason did same. And tell Samantha she saved a soul last Sunday. Lunch was perfect.

Will do.

Prying open the door, Cole helped himself out. Rusty hinges gave worn out creaks as the door grunted against the brown tiled floor.

Everyone seems to hold your team in high regards. It’ll be a pleasure working with you officer.

In that case, it’s Jason. I’m thinking about giving the crime scene a second run through. Want to come along or…?

I can settle in later. I’ll join you. Somto rose, lifting his phone from where it sat idly on the desk.

It’s a beautiful town. I’ve always loved this part of the country; very fair weather. Clean streets too. Slowly, Somto took in the fresh air, allowing it journey through to his lungs before letting it out.

Yeah, peaceful too. It’s serenity and calm played a huge role in getting me to settle over here. A lot has changed over the years. Now, you wouldn’t dare leave your doors open for more than a minute. Jason slowed the car down, allowing an old couple cross over to the other side of the road. I guess it’s not peculiar to just this part of the world though.

We’re going to find who did this. We will.

Somto’s optimism carried through in his voice, lifting Jason’s spirit though he wasn’t sure how much good words of assurance would do.

Hitches in police investigations weren’t largely anyone’s fault. He would be lucky if he actually got a witness to the crime. Tongues didn’t move easily because no one appreciated being packaged in a mail order to their family members. If at all arrests were made, those at the top of the food chain wriggled their way out in exchange for finely padded sacks of mint-made papers.

The car pulled up in front of the empty field which housed in a