The Mile 3 Murder Mystery

The Demboys

In Mile three Port Harcourt, a gang known as Demboys rule the underworld. George was the leader of the Demboys gang . Isdore was his second in command.The gang had stamped control of the area from the shadows and members are feared.. They are also into arms trafficking.

Isdore called a meeting of the leadership of Demboys. Around him sat the inner circle. The meeting was crucial. "We’ve got a problem,” Isdore began, his voice shaky.

The room was heavy with smoke and the smell of whisky. The leaders of the gang sat around a wooden table in Isdore's house, the smell of beer was much. The seat at the head of the table, where their leader, George was to sit, was empty.

" George has been killed" muttered Isdore as he gripped a glass of whisky. " I would have been killed too if I had entered the car with him"

Isdore: George was untouchable! He had everything under control. Who has done this to us?

Ben one of the gang member stepped forward. His face was pale, his hands trembling. “ The police got the CCTV footage. A man was seen around George's car planting the explosives. But he was wearing a face mask” he said quietly.

“What man?” Isdore asked, his voice low and dangerous.

Ben pulled a photo from his pocket and showed the members, photo of a man in mask near George's car.

The room fell silent for a moment, the weight of Ben's words sinking in.

“ Whoever he is, he will come after us too. We have to find this traitor,” Ben said coldly. “We dig into everyone’s alibis, everyone’s movements. We will find this guy and roast him. We will make him regret ever crossing the Demboys"

Supretendent Jane parked her car on the side close to her apartment. She stepped out, the intention was to go in, catch some rest and then go out to meet her partner. Little did she know, she has become a target.Perched on the rooftop of a nearby building, the Rugged man lay prone. His mission was to silence Jane. He exhaled slowly, aligning the crosshairs with his head.Through the sniper scope of his riffle, he watched as Jane moved cautiously towards her apartment.

He exhaled slowly, steadying his hands with his riffle. At this distance, the shot was almost too easy. But just as the trigger was about to be squeezed, Jane stopped abruptly and bent down to tie her shoe.The bullet screamed through the air but instead of hitting its mark, it slammed into the pole behind her, shattering the light.

The sharp crack of the gunshot made Jane's heart lurch and she dove behind her parked car, drawing her gun, her eyes looking around the street searching for the shooter, her pulse racing.

The Rugged man was furious. A perfect shot, ruined by chance. He quickly disassembled the rifle. Staying there meant risking capture. He had studied Jane's movement and knew this was the perfect time to strike but now he has missed. She didn’t know who was gunning for her, but she knew one thing for sure: someone had just made this personal. She was still alive, but whoever had tried to kill her would be back. And next time will not want to miss.

Jane quickly rushed to a nearby bar, leaned against the bar counter, still shaken from the event. Her hands trembled as she poured herself the beer she bought. She picked up her phone and dialed. It rang and Mark Tunde answered.

“ Officer? I have been waiting for you . Where are you ?”

"Someone tried to kill me moments ago, Mr Mark” she said, her voice shaky.

Mark: What? Are you hurt? What happened? Where are you now? Stay right there. I'm coming over . I will take a cab ”

Mark exited his hotel in a hurry. He spotted a taxi moving slowly along the road.With a quick wave, he caught the driver’s attention and the taxi stopped. He opened the door and slid into the backseat.“ Avenue two Street,” he said, his voice calm but worried.

The taxi engine rumbled to life while Mark leaned back, closing his eyes briefly.Unknown to him, a car started its engine and followed his taxi at a distance.

Mark hopped out of the taxi, flipping a bill to the driver before turning towards the bar. Inside, he spotted his partner, Jane at the bar, chatting up the bartender. She looked up as he approached. “I have ordered a beer for you .”

Who shot you?” Mark demanded.

Jane: I did not get to see him . Whoever it was, was waiting for me. A sniper, maybe. He shot at me but missed.

Mark: Did you call for backup?”

“I did not have the time. I had to get out of there before whoever it was will finish the job.

Mark: I'm happy you did not call for back up. We are going to keep this attack on you a secret moving on as if nothing happened.But you can’t stay in your apartment for now.

Jane opened the second beer, ignoring him. “I’m not running. This is my town.”

Mark : it's your town we know but the shooter knows where you live. They missed this time, but what about next time?

Jane took a sip of her beer, her hand on the bottle “And you think a hotel is safer?”

Mark: For now, yes.

Few metres away, Ambrose watched them through the reflection of a mirror. He stirred his whiskey. He lingered nearby, pretending to wipe down a table. His earpiece crackled faintly, and a voice whispered, “Stay close. We need confirmation of their next move.”

Mark lit a cigarette, exhaling slowly as they strolled toward Jane's apartment a block away.

Unknown to them, Ambrose detached himself from where he was staying, following them from a distance.

On getting to the apartment, Mark stood outside while Jane went inside. She moved quickly, opening her closet and grabbing a black dress, a white one, and a casual sundress. Ambrose got into his car and was waitng for them to make the next move.