Myths: Fatherland

Chapter 4: Final Decision

I arrived at the office later that morning at quarter past 9. I sat by my desk in the furthest corner of the large room on the fifth floor, sharing the space with very enthusiastic crime reporters and other sports reporters. I always had the curtains of my windows drawn, causing me to attract the annoyance, whisperings, and stares of my coworkers. Well, it was either that or I'd have to deal with the constant pain of being fried by the sun. Not just that, I have had to deal with meeting gifts and scandalous love letters from anonymous senders, no doubt from the ladies in the office. And walking past a few desks a number of times to hear hearts quickening and softs moans, some only barely hesitating to call out my name. Countless times, I've had to leave the office to stop from hearing distant whisperings and giggling with mentions of my name. Even delivering or receiving a message wasn't without its burden. And from the guys, in there were a lot of mixed reactions. Only a coworker had been trying to get familiar, picking up small talks to keep our short conversations going before getting lost in some fantasising thought. And right on schedule, here she comes, I thought to myself as I hear that familiar 'click clack' sound of heels on tiles. "Morning Daniel," she says, smiling and putting down the files she was carrying. She was dressed casually today, and that was not at all the truth. Her was plaited in long braids of alternating weaves of pink and white and wore two pairs of glinting pale white stone earrings on both ears. She wore a grey white shirt with a small necklace and had on a black knee-length skirt with a pair of matching heels. She was brown skinned, had a slim figure, and was of average height. "The chief wants to see you. I think it's about the case of the dead lawyer. Did you hear about that? It was on the news this morning! Apparently, she was in a car accident late last night. Can you imagine? A lawyer, female gan sef, out that late at night, wetin she dey find? Mtcheew, all these female lawyers sef ehnn, just deceiving everyone with fine dressing and fine face, meanwhile...hmmmm...I think that's why my father wanted me to be a well respected journalist, not some pretty face stuck up who climbs the ladder through knowing people of influence if you know what I mean?" She finally stops speaking and begins to wink at me, smiling coyly. I stare blankly and at her for a while until she drops the smile and pulls out a piece of paper, and slips it into my bag on the desk, "Anyways, I think the chief wants you to cover the story." She turns and strides off, winking. I took out the note, knowing this wouldn't be the first time she'd done this, and it probably won't be the last. But after several times of leaving a note and never having received a phone call, I'd thought she'd stopped, but I guess she was making up excuses for me not calling. I got up and took my leave as well.

I clicked the button for the elevator and waited for it's arrival, and went it did, I got into it and found that it was already occupied by two other staff whom I presumed were being intimate just seconds ago. I pressed the button for the 7th floor and waited for the door to close. The lady directly behind me had her heart beating faster, and the male kept looking from me to her. I couldn't wait for my stop, and when it did, I left as quickly as I had gone in. I walked into the chief editor's rectangular office, which had a great view of the city. He sat behind his black wooden desk, cluttered with files. He wore his usual brown suit over a white shirt and a matching brown tie, and he was starting to bald in the centre. Two silver rings rested on his left fingers, and his glasses were left aside on the desk. He motioned for me to take a seat, "I assume you have heard the news of the recently deceased lawyer who was the prosecutor in the mob boss's case?" I nodded, and he continued, "Now, the police are yet to confirm if the crash was orchestrated or if truly, it was an accident, and its my believe that it is the former, however irrelevant my opinion might be. And that's why I've called you here. I need us to be the first to report what the truth of the matter will be, and I know I haven't known you long, but I have come to appreciate your interrogatory skills. Bring me this news, fresh Daniel, and you'll be out of that shoebox office in no time." "Will do, sir." I responded as I stood to leave, I had just gotten to the door when he spoke again, "A word of advice before you begin, the lead detective, your 'skills', so to speak...well, use them carefully with her, she's the sister of the deceased." I nodded and headed out the door. Although I was pleased I got put on the case, I was also worried. She was the sister of the lady I killed, the witch I killed! She could very well be a witch herself and might be every bit as powerful. An idea occurred to me on how to get her to meet with me and to also get information on both my courses. I got in my car and drove to the station. It had been announced that one of Toxin's boys had been taken into custody by the police while he had been wandering around the crime scene, and he was my gold ticket to getting what I wanted.

I met the desk sergeant and requested to see the suspected offender. He led me to his cell and only allowed me ten minutes with him. 'That's an unnecessarily long among of time' I thought to myself, I didn't need to persuade him to give me information, I had my 'skill', it was another perk of being an immortal damnation, it's called the Impetration. How did it work? I couldn't tell. But in essence, all I had to do was ask a question or make a demand or give a command with dead focus, and it would be done without question or hesitation!

After about three minutes, I appeared before the desk sergeant, who looked quite puzzled after telling her I had gotten all of the information I needed. She asked again if I was sure I had gotten all I needed, gesturing to the clock to show that I still had more time. I took that as an opportunity to ask for a small favour. I gave her a nod, signed out, and left the station. Now, I had what I needed to get the detective to see me. But before I called her, I would need to get a more recent overview of the case, and for that, I'd need fuel for the next task. Driving to the nearest butchery and pulling into the parking lot, I sat still while trying to hold my breath for my breaking in without being sidetracked by the pulsing arteries of the workers in there. I raced in, broke into the cold room, got what I needed, and raced back out. 'Nice and clean!' Sitting back into my car seat, I took large gulps of my manna. I fed well this time, not wanting a repeat of my error last night! I still wasn't sure the detective was a witch or not. If she was, I'd have to leave this life behind once more before she knew what I was and what I'd done, and if she wasn't, I'd wait to see what she made of the case, and maybe leading her to believe it was Toxin's doing If she decided it wasn't an accident.

It was now already past 12 pm when I arrived at the office of the private investigator, "Good afternoon, I'm a reporter from The Patriots, I'm here to see Mr Folusho." "Good afternoon, sir..." replied a secretary, who stopped, contemplating on whether I was real or just her imagination, "Mr Folusho is in, but do you have an appointment?" She asked after regaining her train of thoughts. "No, but he is expecting me," I said, smiling. That did it. "Oh, I see. Go right in, Mr?" She replied, now adjusting the sides of her hair. "Mr Daniel, thank you." I walked into the office without waiting for her to lead the way. The walls of the office were covered with numerous awards and pictures of Mr Folusho with high-profile citizens. He was staring out the window when I closed the door. This startled him. He turned and stared at me in disbelief. "Mr Folusho, I was a friend of the late lawyer, Miss Wunmi," I could sense he was afraid, but I continued speaking, "I have a few questions to ask you." "I have nothing to say to you. Besides, I do not know you, nor have you ever been mentioned by the deceased. Might I know who you are?" He was feeling uneasy, his pulse quickened as he measured the distance between myself and the door. 'This won't be easy.' I thought. "I know for a fact that the deceased was driving to meet up with someone on the night of her demise, and I've just been to the station," I moved closer to him, while he moved sideways to a cabinet by the side, "to question one of Toxin's goons and he told me," now his hand was moving to open a drawer in the cabinet, "that an investigator had been to their warehouse and taken some pictures of some of their activities going on there." I finished talking. He drew out a g*n and pointed it at me, "I don't know what you are talking about or who you are, but I promise you that if you don't leave my office right now, I'll pleasantly put two bullets right in your heart." His pulse was still racing, and sweat had pooled on his forehead, but the hand holding the g*n was surprisingly steady. It was time to take what I needed. Moving closer still, his finger moved to pull the trigger. I raced forward, closing my hands around the nozzle of the g*n, crushing it and stopping the bullets aimed for my heart, his eyes widening. I took the g*n from him, pulled him closer by the collar, and used the impetration on him. 'Nice and clean once more.'

The drive to the construction site took over forty-five minutes. Mr Folusho had told me where to go to after our little discussion. Two vans were parked at the gate, which was a little ajar. I got out and moved towards the gate as I listened for activities inside. There were multiple heartbeats as well as a lot chatting voices. The weather had gotten cooler, the sky quite cloudy. This meant no pain from the midday sun. The compound itself was deserted except for two trucks at the far end of the large space. There were sniffing and low crying sounds coming from within the first truck. Now, I could hear hurried footsteps coming from the various uncompleted structures in the compound. Zooming quietly to the back of the first truck and breaking the lock on it, I was crestfallen to see that in there were gagged teenagers, about a score of them, hurdled into a corner of the truck all weeping quietly and staring at me in wonder, the feeling I was all too familiar with. The footsteps were getting louder and descending rapidly. I moved to the other van and breaking its own lock, found a similar sight, but instead of humans, this was filled with wraps of drugs with arms hanging on nets strewn throughout the length of the inside of the truck. This was definitely worth trying to write off a person off the census! A soft whooshing sound came from behind, the slicing of air by a machete aimed at my back. Moving just a step to the right, I dodged the incoming attack. With nothing more than little efforts and unnatural speed, I moved around disarming the thugs of their spiked sticks, machetes, bottles, and iron bars whilst breaking arms here and legs there, and even occasionally taking time to feed off of a few of them without losing control. In a few seconds, it was all over. Screams of pain came from the many men laying handicapped on the ground. I walked back to the truck with the teenagers inside, and the memories from a past life of mine came flooding back. All those decades ago, chained branded, sold, whipped, insulted, starved, and... I pulled out my phone, dialled the police, and gave them an anonymous tip. Looking back to the men still on the ground, I felt incredibly generous that I only let them off easily.

I went back to my car, parked on the other side of the road, and waited for the police to arrive. And they did, a long time after! She drove into the site a few minutes after the arrival of the police. This time, she wore a red shirt and black jeans with sneakers, and her was braided. I took out my phone and dialled her number and waited. "Hello? Hi, Detective Lola. This is Daniel, we met today at the crash site." "Yes, what do you want?" "Yes, Detective, I'm sorry for my forwardness earlier today, but right now, I'm calling to give you valuable information about this investigation." "And what might that be?" She questioned. Her voice was light over the phone, almost musical. "It is about the reason your sister was driving out late that night," she was silent, so I continued, "let's meet tonight, 8 pm, Edres Crescent and you'll have all you need." With this, I cut off the call and drove off, ready to be done with this.

Later that night, I sat in a bar at the major junction of Edres Crescent called 'Cherry On Top', I had texted her the location. I arrived 20 minutes early, going over how I was going to get her to reveal whether she was a witch or not! "Do you want a refill?" Asked the bartender, her eyes gleaming with interest. "Yes, please do." The doors opened just then, and in strode the detective still having the days clothes on but with a jacket now, and still looking as gorgeous. "Make that two." I added to the bartender as I raised my hand to signify to the detective, and she walked over, refusing to take a seat. She stood by the counter beside me. "Good evening detective, glad you could make it." "Could you make this quick? What do you have to tell me about this investigation?" She said, making a move to cover her g*n with the jacket. "Straight to business, I see." I collected my refilled cup from the bartender who slid the other to the detective as she gave her the once over, "I'm alright." She said to the bartender, who paid her no attention as she moved closer to me and whispered, "If you need any other thing ehn fine bobo, make you no hesitate to call me, Oghene, you hear?" She walked back to a door behind the bar and disappeared through it after taking one last longing look. I turned back to the detective, who was trying not to stare or be irritated and said, "I'm deeply sorry for your loss, I understand how painful it is to lose a person you love." "Thank you," she said, "we know she was driving out rather late, but what we don't know is why, how could you help with that?" She was keeping this strictly official. "The deceased had an urgent call and was driving to meet with a private investigator she'd hired to help with her prosecution against Toxin. He had information about the human trafficking ring but couldn't wait till daybreak to meet her, which now isn't posible." "Who is this P.I. and what information did he have for her?" "I can't tell you who he is detective. You see, he believed he had something to kill for and didn't want it to be traced to him, and that was why he couldn't wait until morning to see her." "OK, what then is this information he so badly wanted to share?!" Her voice was higher, hinting at frustration. This was good. Witches could be quite temperamental, with some unable to handle being stressed, and whenever they were stressed or frustrated, something weird or unusual would happen. I took another sip, hoping to intensify the tension, and then said, "He wouldn't say, he was so scared of what would happen if he came to the police or if he was used as a witness." She was glaring at me, anger bubbling beneath the surface. I waited and listened intently for something out-of-place to happen when she finally spoke, "Why would he be scared of talking to the police?" Her voice was still constrained with anger. Still, I waited. 'Was she good at keeping in control?' "Why would a P.I. be scared of coming to the police with relevant information that could or could not have something to do with the death of his client is a very good question indeed." I replied evasively, with the intent to further increase her frustration so I could find out what I needed to know and make my decision quickly. But still, nothing happened.

'What do I have to do? I needed to find out tonight!'

Out of time and patience, she said, "Look here Mr Daniel, I came here to get information on why my sister was out driving late on the night she died, not to listen to you play quiz with me." Her hands were balled up into fists now, outraged at not getting anything useful out of me, but still nothing out of the ordinary happened. I felt a bit relieved at this. So she wasn't a witch. Good! "He called up your sister because he felt he had been made while he was getting the info on Toxin's operation and quickly wanted to offload it." I paused, involuntarily listening again, still nothing, so I continued, "He has evidence that there are moles amongst the officers in your station who work for Toxin." She sat down, visibly shocked at the revelation, "He also believes Toxin is expanding his sphere of commodities, but he wasn't sure what it might be." "You made the anonymous tip about the construction site today, didn't you?" She asked. I nodded, and that was when I saw and heard it. First were the two flashes of light followed each by a clicking sound, and then a man pushed open the doors of the bar and pulling out a g*n from his trousers, aimed at the detective and I and opened fire. I pushed the detective off her stool to the ground. A bullet hit my arm, but I remained crouched over the detective, who had hit her head in the process and seemed to have passed out. I weathered through the hail of bullets, taking care to ensure she wasn't hit. The shooter stopped after a few seconds and pelted out the door from whence he came. I stood and looked around the chaotic bar. Some customers had crouched under their tables while others were already running pell mell for the exit. After checking to ensure she was fine, I went out the door, hoping to still catch a glimpse of the g*n man. But to my utmost delight, I found not only the gunman standing outside the bar, still with the g*n in hand, but there were others with him.

About six of them stood side by side with their guns aimed at the entrance of the bar. I turned back to see the bartender coming out, so I shouted to her to go back inside and call the police. She stood still some more. "Go!" I shouted again, and she nodded hastily as she ran back inside, shouting 'Police! Police!!'

The six of them seemed to size me up, then looking at one another and putting down their guns began to laugh out loud, pointing at me as if to say, 'Is this the person that beat the thugs up? Just him? Please! Lolzzz!' I joined in the laughing too, catching them off guard. They were going to take me on, "6 to 1, not going to end well." I said, but they just guffawwed and kept coming closer, cracking their every joints as they did. "I'm speaking for you, not me." I surged forward, and in a few seconds, two of them I had knocked out, one was with two broken ribs and a fractured arm while the other three had their faces smashed into the windows of the bar.

Again, I saw the flashing of lights and heard the clicking sound, but I couldn't tell where it was coming from. So, instead of investigating the source, I went back inside to check on the detective. She was still out but was beginning to come to. The police had arrived now with an ambulance and were going around checking for the injured and questioning those lucid and patient enough to answer their questions. "What happened?" She said, looking up at me, "Are you okay? Do you feel alright?" Even after what had happened, she was still breathtaking. "What happened," she asked again, now getting up on her feet, "Toxin's boys came for us, well... either for you for having arrested his boys and investigating the circumstances surrounding the death of the prosecuting lawyer in his case or just me." "You? Why would Toxin be after you? You are just a reporter." She said, standing shakily on her feet. "Well, you see," I said, straightening up, "let's just say the thugs at the site got what they deserved!" She looked terror stricken, "Are you telling me you had a hand in what happened at the construction site earlier today?!" "If I told you NO, would that help?" "No!!" "Ahh...well, not to worry detective, all you need to worry about tonight is yourself, alright?" She nodded, half smiled, and then looked at my arm and then at me, "Why isn't your arm in plasters? I saw a bullet hit you there?" She said as she pointed to my right arm. "No, you hit your head detective. You didn't see it right. I mean, look at it, it's all fresh and smooth like a baby's bum, you see." She shook her head and smiled and said, "Thank you for your help, Mr Daniel. I really do appreciate it." She made to squeeze my arm but found that it was hard to do so. She pulled back her hand, a puzzled looked on her face, but smiled again and strode away.

Two things had become clearer and certain tonight, I thought as I watched her walk towards her car. First was that she definitely wasn't a witch. And the second I mused as I watched her enter into her car and wave at me before driving off as I waved back at her, I now needed no excuse to see her as I was now reporting the whole unfolding scenarios of this investigation. And maybe thirdly, I thought, as I walked back to my car, thinking back to when I had held her head carefully in my hands when she was passed out and looking at her face, peacefully set, was that, she might just be the most beautiful woman I had ever met, and I wanted to see more of her.