Desperate Moves

8

8

We were set to go after another two minutes. I trotted behind as we made our way out of the compound down to the road. A bike soon came along and the guys asked us ladies to board it, while they wait for another bike to come along. They paid the fare and instructed us to wait for their arrival before going in. We had to wait for them by the entrance of the police station when we arrived. Not quite long, they arrived. Sam paid off the bike man and we all walked in. When we got close to the counter, my heart started racing furiously. An officer approached and welcomed us.

Sam stepped forward in response to the officer’s questioning look.

“We are here to lodge a complaint.”

“Ok. What about?” the officer asked, pulling out a big hardcover note from under the counter and started turning the pages.

Sam gave me a glance from the side of his eye, apparently expecting me to take over from there. Seeing that I was not forthcoming, he continued.

“A r**e case.”

The officer tore his eyes from the book almost immediately, peering at each of us, from one face to another, before asking,

“Who was r***d and by who?”

Sam turned his face in my direction and gave me a sympathetic look. My heart was still pounding furiously against my rib cage that I thought it was loud enough to be heard by the people standing close to me. The officer followed his eye movement and settled his gaze on me.

“Are you the victim?”

I slowly nodded my head, afraid that any attempt to speak may cause tears to spill. He beckoned on me to draw closer to him as I was standing a good distance away from the counter.

“What is your name?”

I swallowed hard before responding. “Edidiong.”

“Edidiong who?”

“Edidiong Rufus Ekanem.”

He wrote inside the big note he had in front of him. After writing the name, he turned the book around and pushed it across the counter, towards me.

“Is the spelling correct?”

I peered inside the book, then silently reached for the pen he was holding. He handed it over to me and I made the necessary corrections to the name. I dropped the pen on the book and pushed it back towards him. He looked at it and then nodded his head.

“Where are you from?”

“Akwa Ibom State.”

He asked a few more questions about me and I answered as quickly as my fuzzy mind could process out the response. Then he asked the question I had dreaded most to hear.

“When did the incident occur?”

“Monday night.” I was hesitant, afraid that the delay before reporting may pose serious threats to the investigation process.

True to my thoughts, he had a scowl on his face when he looked at me. “Since on Monday, and you are just reporting it? What do you think we can do at this point? Why did you wait till today to report the case? His voice had increased a few pitches.

I was distraught enough already and didn’t need the scolding. Sam, who was right behind me filled in. “She passed out in the process and had to be rushed to the hospital immediately after they left.

“Who is the r****t?”

The mention of that word caused my eyes to brim with tears. I blinked several times in an attempt to keep the tears at bay. Seeing my difficulty, Tosin stepped in to help.

“We don’t know the idiots that did it.”

“I will have to transfer the case to the state CID.” He stated without any preamble.

When he saw the look of confusion on our faces, he continued, “This case is beyond our jurisdiction, so we will need to hand it over to the state criminal investigation and department for full investigation.”

He went down the hall and disappeared into an office by the left, came out about thirty minutes later with a note in his hand. He handed over the note to me and instructed us to go and meet a certain Inspector John at the state CID office, adding that he was expecting us.

“Can’t we go on Monday?” I asked, glancing at my watch.

“This case has been delayed so much already. I think you guys should not delay any further.” He stated emphatically.

I opened my mouth to further protest, but a glare from Tosin made me decide against it.

I collected the letter and waited as he gave us directions on how to get there.. All the while, my mind was roaming, hardly paying attention to what he had to say. Thank God I had Sam, Cynthia and Tosin with me. I was now fully regretting the decision to report the incident. Was it really worth this stress? What if it ends up being a waste of precious time and already lean resources? I couldn’t help but wonder.

Sam tapped me gently on the shoulder, and I followed them out without a word.

The State CID was about twenty minutes from the police station. The first car we flagged down didn’t have enough space for four, so we waited for another one to come along. We didn’t have to wait for long; an empty taxi soon stopped in front of us and we gave the driver our destination and hopped in, Sam in front and the rest of us, at the back. We arrived at the station none too soon, my heart still in turmoil. Sam paid off the cab driver and we walked in. The place was bustling with activities. My mind went to the number of crimes that are reported each day and I wondered why the rate of crime was on the increase, even with the presence of law enforcement agencies. We approached the first uniformed person we saw in the premises, who happened to be a lady.

“Good evening ma’am.” Sam greeted and we all cued in, making little curtsies.

She took her time before removing her eyes from her phone, which she was looking at, with raptured attention. She looked at each of us briefly before responding. “Evening.” How may I be of help?”

“Please, we are here to meet Inspector John.” Sam responded in a low voice, not sure of how to thread to avoid pissing her off.

I remember some time back how he complained that most times, women in places of authority were full of themselves and most often than not, used their position to victimize others. So he had always tried not to have any dealing with women in authority. When I teasingly asked him if he would try to avoid me if I got to be in a position of authority, his response had caused flutters in the pit of my stomach. He had said I was different, nothing short of an angel. I remembered this anytime a woman in a high position acted like a b***h.

“What do you want to see him for?” her attention had returned to her phone.

From the look on his face, Tosin was pissed already. “We were directed to meet him by someone.” He said, rather impatiently.

When she heard the anger in his voice, she once again tore her eyes from her phone, long enough to snap at him.

“Do you want to fight me?”

None of us made an attempt to respond. After what seemed like ages, although it was just three minutes of ignoring us, she beckoned on a very young guy, who looked more like a student than an officer. When he came close, she said something to him in Ikwerre, the native language of most part of Rivers state. The young man looked at us and then signaled us to follow him.