Fine Ending, page 7
“Sit back, old man,” he directed, picked up Ekwere’s phone, and shoved it into his pocket. “This can go fast and smooth, or torturous and long. Depends on you.”
Rono watched him swallow with difficulty, and that’s how he noticed his eyes become shifty and a sneer crawl up his weathered face.
“You cannot kill me. People will hear the shot.”
How stupid was this man? And how had his father ever thought to have business dealings with him? “Seriously, that’s your safety net?”
Ekwere flinched under the cold, calm stare Rono sent him. If the man were smart, he’d recall some of the things Jacob must have told him about his son’s character, plus the rumours of killings. He shifted when Rono sat beside him, both of them facing the front door.
“Some—Someone might walk in …”
“Hmm,” Rono grunted in agreement.
Without hurry, he slid his hand into the flap of his suit, bringing out a rolled up leather pouch which he flipped. When it rolled open, Ekwere gasped at the array of shiny steel in several tiny pockets. Before he could blink, another device had left Rono’s suit flap.
With great care, he lifted the knives from their pockets, laying them on top of the pouch, then he placed the muzzle-like device with the knives.
“That’s a silencer. People won’t hear. And having realized I’ve not locked your door after shutting it, the knives are for whoever walks through that door.”
Ekwere whimpered, real fear settling in his eyes as he realized Rono wasn’t joking.
“I’m … I’m so … so … sorry.” Sweat dripped down his face, soaking up his white, lawyer’s shirt.
“For what, Barrister?” Rono crossed his right leg over his left in a comfortable posture. He allowed his gun hand to rest beside the knives on his right, conveniently pointing at Ekwere.
At his simple question, the man’s eyes darted from left to right. Rono could see the wheels turning in his mind as he tried to figure out what he must know.
His plan was to keep him unbalanced while getting unquestioned answers from him.
“I warned you this will happen if you brought in the cops.”
“But … but … I didn’t …”
“Where is Felicia?”
Ekwere licked his lips, his eyes rapidly blinking as if he thought to lie.
Rono reacted instinctively when the front door opened. His gun flew to his left hand while his right picked a knife and threw, timing it well enough to only nick the arm of the intruder … who happened to be the fruit plucking siren out-front—he’d never forget her figure and snug skirt.
“What the fuck?” she screamed, bending over and letting go her of bunched up T-shirt, scattering the guavas she’d been carrying on the tiled floor as her right palm slapped over the wound on her arm.
“Close and lock the door,” Rono directed, the gun back to his right hand but now pointed at her.
None of the other occupants of the room knew his heart slammed like a jack hammer against his chest from instant remorse at marring her smooth skin.
Ekwere had gotten over his whimpers, his eyes wide as he stared at the siren lady who did as directed before raising her face for the first time.
“That’s … that’s Felicia,” the older man blurted in a jubilant tone.
“What?”
Rono frowned with his head cocked to the side, his own show of disbelief. Ekwere must want to die today—the man couldn’t stop lying.
“It’s her … Can’t you see? Felicia, tell him,” he prodded with the fakest smile ever expressed.
Even if she’d not exclaimed, he’d have known the blatant lie. It was as though he was staring at Felicia but not Felicia. Twins, he figured, but their resemblance ended at the face and complexion.
This one was tall, probably five-foot-six, full-figured, with eyes gleaming intelligence … She must be the doctor Dave crushed on.
Rono refused to think about his earlier reaction to her outside. He identified the heaving of her considerable bosom and narrowed eyes spitting fury at her father.
“Take a seat. Your father was just about to tell me where your sister is.”
Her father sputtered in mock indignation. Concern shadowed her eyes, and she hesitated before moving to the seat backing the front door.
“Tell him!” Ekwere snapped in a fierce whisper at his daughter.
Rono followed all her moves, unable to look away or stop the palpitation of his heart. When she pulled her palm from the wound to stare at the blood, he tightened his jaw to control the reflex to rush to her side. He breathed better upon noticing the blood had clotted, but guilt remained a live thing in his chest.
When she looked up, her eyes were defiant. “I don’t know what this is about, and I don’t care, but I don’t want to be a part of it. I’m not Felicia.”
While she spoke, Ekwere twitched on his seat as though ants crawled in his pants. His gaze could’ve killed her if they were weapons.
“Ahem,” Rono started.
Ekwere turned to him, jittery all over.
“I recently found out the total amount of your debt to my dad which you should’ve paid off five months ago,” he continued. “Should I assume you murdered my father to get away from paying … twenty-two million naira?”
His daughter gasped with widened eyes focused on her guilty father.
***
Twenty-two million naira! What would her dad want with that kind of money, and how did Felicia figure into this drama? Was this tied to the giant she’d treated at Eastern Obolo a few days ago? Was this why he’d said they’d been looking for Felicia?
And where was Felicia?
After deciding to ignore whatever trouble her father and twin had obviously gotten into again, she’d refused to ask her father about Felicia’s whereabouts. Asking would’ve resulted in discovering the problem, and she would’ve been forced, as always, to find solutions, which would involve money. Because no matter how many times she got furious with her dad and twin every time they got into trouble, she still had not been able to abandon them.
But twenty-two million naira was more than they could chew. She’d have to save over ten years of her salary to pay back, and this man would not wait that long. She could see this just by looking at his stoic face.
Despite his cold eyes, she worried that in a different situation, she’d have fallen for this guy. It was rare to find men this dark with pink lips and brown eyes like contacts outside a foreign music video. Even though he sat, she could see he was tall. His thighs had bulk, and in between …
Her father’s stammers broke her trance. Shame suffused her chest at the direction of her thoughts. Instead of worrying for her family or being terrified of the gunman, she was crushing on him.
“God forbid! I would never,” Ekwere sputtered, his eyes flashing truth for the first time.
“I want the money, then.”
“I will … Well, I need some time to … to source the money.”
The young man picked up the silencer and slowly twisted it on the muzzle of his gun without looking up.
Suto’s heart stuttered. Her father’s mouth dropped in shock, but her gaze remained riveted on the measured movements of the gunman. He was the most unemotional person she’d ever met; yet, she shivered with an emotion that wasn’t entirely fear.
Ekwere’s breathing came in pants. “You cannot do that …”
“I’ve been here for almost an hour,” he began as though having a casual conversation. “And I’ve gained nothing.”
He picked up a knife, stared at it, seeming to reconsider, then picked the next one. Suto could perceive her father’s terror, and it bled into her chest, causing a tightening in her throat.
“You’ve not told me where Felicia is, why I was arrested, and when I’ll be getting my money.”
“But … bu—”
“You’re the doctor.”
It took Suto a while to realize he’d spoken to her. She met his cold gaze and nodded. It hadn’t been a question.
Stretching, the man laid the knife on her father’s arm, in the juncture of the elbow. “How long will it take him to bleed to death if I slash his brachial artery, right here?”
He tapped the spot despite her father’s wild eyes and shivering torso.
Suto couldn’t find her voice. Her mouth dropped, her eyes widened. “You wouldn’t … Please …”
“Answer the question.”
She swallowed, every other emotion but terror draining from her. “Without pressure, it’ll take two to three minutes.”
The man turned to her father, who shifted to the edge of the couch but couldn’t escape the cold steel of the knife. “That’s how long you have to talk or die.”
His wrist flicked, and blood bloomed on the arm of the white shirt, spreading at an alarming rate.
Suto screamed and made to rush to her father who was choking on his words, but the man pointed the gun at her and slowly shook his head.
“Talk, Daddy!” she cried.
“I faked Felicia’s kidnap to get ransom money from you. And—and then pay you with it when and if you asked for your father’s debt.”
Despite the crawling terror in her chest, Suto knew her father would’ve left town with the money; a flicker in the gun-man’s eyes told her he knew it, too.
“My arrest?”
“Just part of the plan …”
“My money?”
Her father paused and licked his lips, his eyes shifting to land on Suto, then back to the man. “Take her as a wife!”
“What? Daddy!” she burst out.
The man’s eyes narrowed. “I couldn’t stand Felicia. What makes you think—”
“Because The Table is making a new rule just for you. As an unmarried man, you can’t speak at The Table or even claim your father’s interests …”
“How do you know The Table? Besides, Tony Umeh joins the meetings.”
“Tony Umeh is engaged and planning a wedding.” At this, his head lolled to the side, his eyelids dropping.
“Please, let me help him.” Her voice shook.
He simply nodded as she slammed her knees on the floor beside her dad and tore the arm of the shirt. When she looked closely, she realized he hadn’t nicked the deadly brachial artery, but it was a wide gash, nonetheless. The heavy bleeding resulted from her father’s anxiety which spiked his heart rate, thereby producing more blood.
Had it been a mistake, or had he avoided the artery on purpose?
Suto shook her head, swallowing as she put pressure on her father’s wound. She was just grateful it wasn’t deadly.
“How do you know so much?” the man broke into her father’s moans.
The older man turned weakly and, upon seeing him still holding a knife, he swallowed, dropped his gaze, and replied, “He’s engaged to Felicia.”
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