The atmosphere had changed with his attitude. Etuk swallowed with difficulty, and Ukor tried to look unaffected, but his incessant twitch on his chair gave away his nervousness and fear for having insulted royalty.

  “Felicia was just a girlfriend for appearances. Truth be told, she was a pest to me—”

  “So you had her killed … kidnapped?” Ukor interrupted, his disdain still obvious.

  Rono ignored him. “Our relationship was a prodding by our fathers; we weren’t compatible. Felicia is a dunce, to put it mildly, and I like women with a bit of sense. I know you wouldn’t understand that, Detective Ukor, but it’s okay.”

  Etuk’s lips twitched furiously at the mild barb, and he lowered his head to hide his smile while his partner sputtered angrily.

  “Is there a point to this, Mr. Ating?”

  “Of course. I’d made it known to Felicia that I’m not interested in having even casual sex with her. That’d be a waste of my swimmers—”

  “Swimmers? Who are these swimmers?” Ukor exploded.

  Rono smiled. “That will be my sperm, Detective. Sleeping with her would’ve been a waste of my sperm. Again, I get your confusion.”

  Etuk cleared his throat loudly. “Right …”

  “Felicia didn’t like hearing that. She kept throwing herself at me. I only tolerated her because I was staying at my father’s house. Treating her badly would invite a harangue from my dad. I have been ignoring her for as long as she’s been trying to get my attention.

  “She’s done this kind of thing before. The first time was in December 2015, two months after we’d met. She was staying over at the house, but my driver noticed she hadn’t returned from her shopping spree by midnight. I reported it to the police and was extremely embarrassed when she returned the next morning, smelling like a distillery, with the only excuse that she was bored.”

  Etuk shook his head and wrote on his jotter.

  “Last year, about June, when I was in the country and had to reiterate that I wasn’t interested in a relationship no matter how casual, she disappeared for three days, and my dad’s security detail was extremely worried and reported it to the police since I’d left town for a bit.”

  “It seems to me you were preparing for a day like this, seeing as you have all your dates ready.” Ukor sneered.

  “I won’t apologise for being smart, Detective.”

  “Did you have a disagreement with her or anything that would make her react like this?”

  Rono shook his head. “No, I ignored her as usual. I didn’t have the time for her drama. My father was murdered,” he snapped, sitting up and allowing reign of his anger.

  Etuk sighed. “I—”

  “How’s this difficult to see? Can’t you detect the yearly drama she’s acting? 2015, 2016, and now 2017? My father was murdered in November. I had to handle his business, the royal traditions, the legal issues, the company, the funeral arrangements … everything! I’m still neck deep in figuring out contracts, agreements, royal matters—” Not to talk of the scary wait for the impending summons from The Table. “—so forgive me if I have no time for a girl that wasn’t even my girlfriend.”

  He paused for effect here.

  “And this begs the question. What is going on with my dad’s case?”

  ***

  Hours later, Etuk had to explain that Felicia’s best friend, one Suzie Udoma, was responsible for the report that got him to the station.

  Rono’s phone vibrated. When he looked, Dave’s name flashed. His throat constricted—he hadn’t heard from him by four a.m. as they’d agreed. He would’ve called him, but Dave had always warned him not to call when he was in the field.

  He ignored the call.

  “Do you know her?”

  “No.”

  His phone vibrated again; he hoped Dave was okay. His cousin had been with him every step in his vendetta and had been responsible for handling the selloff of his father’s drug cache at Eastern Obolo, an island community sharing a boundary with Rivers State. It was a dangerous operation, seeing as his father had died arranging it.

  Dave had agreed to go—he was more experienced in the field part of things and had been his father’s muscle from his immediate post-teen years. As a cousin from his mother’s side, Dave had pestered his father to work for him so that he could take care of his younger siblings. Despite Rono’s mother abandoning her family, and Dave’s father, her brother, being a drunk, Chief Jacob Ating had still taken him in and insisted he attain some level of education.

  Rono got the feeling that Dave hadn’t really been interested in school. He’d grudgingly done it, attending a polytechnic instead of university.

  While Etuk tried to explain the investigation on his father’s case without revealing too much, Dave called thrice more, and Etuk gave up the subtle glances and looked Rono in the face.

  “You can answer Dave’s call, you know,” he suggested. He knew Dave was his cousin.

  Rono smiled. “Continue, please.”

  The detective huffed. “Anyway, we spoke with the other contender for the throne, Chief Akodi, and he explained the selection process for the throne. Usually, the four royal families took turns ruling until death. This contention between the Ating and Akodi royal families came as a result of Akodi family being passed over in your great-grandfather’s time because they’d not had a son at the time, so the crown came to Ating.

  “The crown has rotated again, and it should be Ating’s turn, but the Akodi family feel slighted and are demanding their right. The king makers will decide after due consultations, and Chief Akodi made me understand that killing your father for the throne would be useless because, if the crown comes to Ating royal family, you’ll be chosen as your dad had no brothers.”

  Rono nodded calmly, but inside, fear pattered. He already knew what the detective had found out. Some family elders had explained it to him during preparations for his dad’s funeral, and they’d been stern when he’d declared his disinterest with the throne.

  Dave’s name flashed on the screen again, and Rono knew something was terribly wrong. It didn’t show on his face, but he was impatient to leave.

  “So, are we done here?”

  “I think so. We’ll reach out if anything else comes up in both cases. Don’t leave the state, though.”

  He sighed. “Right.”

  He got to his feet, nodded at the detective, and walked out of his office.

  When he stepped outside and scanned the parking lot for Abel, his eyes caught and held those of Felicia’s supposed best friend. She ducked her head to avoid his gaze while having a heated discussion with Detective Ukor.

  He’d not recognized her name, but he knew Suzie well—she’d been with Felicia during his father’s funeral. But like everything about Felicia, he’d ignored her.

  Lowering her gaze from his and rubbing her neck uncomfortably in a bid to hide her face, expressed guilt—she mustn’t have acted alone. Felicia’s idiot father must have sent her. Did the old man think he wouldn’t know?

  “Sir …”

  “Where are you parked, Abel?” he asked, reading Dave’s SMS about a betrayal at the selloff and having found Felicia even though she was chubby now.

  Rono frowned, deleted the message, and waited to enter his car before calling Dave.

  “Close to the gate, sir.”

  He looked to where he’d pointed and saw Uncle Timothy driving into the station.

  “What was his excuse?”

  “Nothing. He just said he’d get here as soon as possible.”

  “How long ago was that?” he muttered, schooling his face to relief as they neared Timothy’s car.

  “Over three hours ago, sir,” Abel whispered.

  “Uncle Timothy, I’m sorry to have disturbed you. It was nothing; everything is sorted out. The detective apologised. It could have been something casually handled not brought to the station, but they were just doing their jobs, so …”

  “Oh, I’m sorry I took time.” The robust, middle-aged man smiled thinly; no explanations as to what had kept him came forth.

  And Rono wasn’t going to ask.

  “Okay, I’m out of here. I apologise for the wasted time, again.”

  “You seem in such a hurry,” Timothy commented, widening his car door but not entering it.

  Rono grinned. “I’m going to church.”

  “At this time?” He checked his wrist watch, a shiny gold Rolex, quite unusual for the reserved lawyer he’d known all his life. “It’s past four p.m.”

  Rono gave him another smile. “I know. It’s the perfect time for confession.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Ekwere’s Compound

  When the strange giant Paapa had brought to the clinic—Dave—had called her ‘Felicia’, Suto Ekwere had frozen and swallowed non-existent saliva several times before she could make her voice sound unperturbed.

  In that ungodly hour, she’d reaffirmed the importance of skill expertise. Her mind had been racing a mile a second and to different directions while she’d sutured the bullet wounds. Who was he; why was he at Eastern Obolo; what was going on?

  She’d been glad for her timely transfer, and instead of returning home the next day as planned, she’d packed up the moment Paapa had left the premises. She had dreaded working at the metropolis, but after that morning, she’d tried to be glad about going home.

  The gladness vanished when her father opened the door with a question.

  “Suto … what are you doing here?” His eyes had widened like a kid caught at a naughty act.

  The dread suffused her chest again—there really was something fishy going on.

  “I’m looking for my sugar daddy, what do you think?” She rolled her eyes and pushed through the door he’d been hesitant to fully open.

  Ekwere chuckled nervously. “You know what I mean, sweetie. You never leave that rustic village even for the holidays, and you’re always on about saving lives and doing good. So, it’s a shock to find you at the door with no prior notice.”

  Suto didn’t miss the emphasis on prior, and her father never called her sweetie. She narrowed her eyes at him. “Okay, what’s going on?”

  He blinked in quick succession. “How do you mean, darling?”

  Her mouth dropped … Two endearments in one minute? It must be worse than she’d imagined. Nodding to herself, she made a snap decision.

  “Okay, Father. I don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into this time, and I don’t want to know. I’ll stay at your house as long as it takes me to lobby my transfer to somewhere else. I don’t want to be dragged into whatever is going on. That said, is there food in the house?”

  “Did you drop a maid when you left?”

  There’s the father she knew; the charge and bail lawyer who could sell his child just to dupe a business partner or client, the one who encouraged prostitution if he’d benefit from it. His response had eradicated the jittery urge to return home and possibly save the day. Her father would remain dubious ’til death.

  Suto shrugged, hefted her huge carryall, and walked into the corridor that led to her room.

  ***

  Rono had not been lying when he’d told Timothy he was going to church, but it’d not only been for confessions.

  Abel had rolled into the church premises, found a parking spot, and left the car for his phone call.

  “Why did you get arrested?” Dave had barked moments on the call.

  Rono had understood his anxiety. His cousin, older than him by a couple of years, had assumed the role of elder brother from the moment his father had taken him in as a son.

  “I was invited to talk, not arrested.”

  “Same difference. They could’ve talked at your home. If you reached the station, it was an arrest.”

  Rono had sighed. He enjoyed his cousin’s over protectiveness, but not at the moment. “You didn’t call at four a.m.”

  “I got shot.”

  His heart had jumped into his throat, and before he could chastise him, Dave had told him all that had happened.

  At first, Dave had thought the drug lord from Rivers had double-crossed him. The man had trust issues and had insisted that Dave stay back until the merchandise had crossed to the other side of the river.

  It hadn’t been a problem for Dave, but unbeknownst to the Rivers man, he’d arranged to return the money to town. With the help of the old man, Paapa, whose compound had been used for the exchange, Dave and two of the four boys he’d brought from town, the other two having gone in search of food, had wrapped the money in sacks of rotten fish and had hired some village women to pose as traders returning from purchasing bags of fish, all to avoid police inspection on the road to Uyo.

  It had turned out good that the other two hadn’t been around, so when they’d returned, Dave had given them transport to go home. But unknown to him, one of them, Mkpouto, hadn’t. So, while Rono had been waiting for Dave’s call at four a.m., his cousin had been running for his life in the waterfront forest of Eastern Obolo.

  Mkpouto had returned with two other thugs, requesting the money. Dave had dived into the forest while they shot at him, and when he’d thought he’d surely die, the old man, Paapa, had appeared with his sons and saved him with their hunting rifles. Dave had fainted from blood loss, and then, he’d woken at a maternity clinic where a now chubby Felicia had operated on his gunshot wound.

  That, Rono didn’t understand. More confusing was Dave’s obvious sensual interest in this chubby Felicia, when his cousin had hated her more than him. But that wasn’t the problem.

  “So, Mkpouto is dead?” He’d felt sorry for the young boy even though he’d chosen to betray them.

  “He’d told the old man’s son a lawyer had contracted some other dude to double-cross me, not the Rivers man, and he’d been chosen for a huge fee to be the inside guy. Fortunately, he’d left to find food before I’d changed my mind and asked that the money still proceed to town while I wait.”

  Rono had sighed. It appeared the line of betrayal kept widening even after his father’s death, and a lawyer was involved—who might it be?

  “Why are we speaking on the phone?”

  “I wonder, man. I’m in position already, counting and storing, I’ll see you after confession.”

  Dave had been storing money, and the position he’d been talking about was an empty tomb in the corner of the priests’ cemetery at the St. Joseph Catholic Church, Anua.

  When they’d met, the storing had been complete, and Rono had been unable to stop himself from hugging his cousin. He’d groaned in pain as the hug had affected his wounded left shoulder, but he had hugged him back and then shifted him aside to tell him more about Felicia.

  That had been two days ago. He’d given himself time to plan the perfect revenge for the scheming old fart and to find out what the hell was going on with Felicia having a double … if that was real; Dave might have been hallucinating from the pain or the drugs he’d been given. There was no way Felicia, thin as bone and dumb as sheep, was suddenly chubby and a doctor. Dave insisted he’d crushed on her when in reality, Dave hated Felicia more than he did.

  Dave: He’s home…just got back

  Dave had decided to stake out Ekwere’s compound, a huge, fenced round building which was probably an inheritance—it looked old-fashioned enough—and located off Nwaniba Road, on an untarred street, almost close to Le Meridien, the five-star hotel.

  Rono: Right. I’m going in. Stay woke though, in case I need help hanging him from the balls

  He stepped down from his car parked three houses from Ekwere’s compound and strolled towards it, buttoning his grey suit over a white shirt. He grinned at the laughing smiley Dave had sent and waited just inside the gate for the reply he was typing.

  Dave: You have a silencer, man. Just shoot his balls and be done with it ^eye-roll smiley^

  Rono: Lol. Deleting…

  Dave: Be safe…deleted

  They’d decided not to keep any messages on their phones. Rono had learnt a lot of security hacks from security courses he’d decided to do while at Birmingham, during his doctorate. He only texted Dave, and they always deleted at the end of every chat.

  Movement caught his eye on the far right side of the compound. A sparse garden spread out with low-height fruit trees in the periphery of his gaze, but his eyes seemed to zero in on the fair-skinned, chubby woman stretching up to pluck a fruit. In the process, black markings peeked out from under her shirt.

  Rono wasn’t a fan of tattoos. He’d never consciously go for a chubby woman, and he disliked skimpy dressing. But the instant, visceral reaction he had at the sight of the plump woman in a short jean skirt and a tattoo on her right hip seemed to erase all he’d thought he believed.

  Everything appeared to fade, and the unknown woman gleamed as she stood on tiptoe to pluck a fruit. Her rounded buttocks, a siren that called to him, and her fair, full legs made him salivate.

  The vibration in his pocket broke the trance, startling him into marching to Ekwere’s front door, earlier described by Dave.

  “What the fuck just happened?” he muttered, shaking his head and breathing deeply to slow his palpitating heart. He’d never had such a reaction to a woman, and he’d not even seen her face.

  He had a pressing urge to go back and see her face. His heart pounded as his designer shoe-covered feet began retracing his steps …

  “What are you doing?” he snapped, annoyed with himself, and rushed back to Ekwere’s front door which stood slightly open.

  Looking around, he was glad Ekwere’s neighbours lived upstairs, thus making him safe from prying eyes as he pulled his gun, hiding it behind him, and widened the door. His last thought as he located Ekwere, lounging on his sofa, was returning at a later date to seek the elusive chubby, tattoo-wielding woman.

  When the man looked up, saw him, and rushed for his phone on the coffee table, all other concerns drained from Rono’s body, leaving his usual cold and detached self. He pointed the gun at the terrified middle-aged man and shook his head, silently glad that the earlier strange feeling had evaporated. If he killed Ekwere today, he wasn’t ever coming back this way, siren tenant or not.

 

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