Game of Deception, page 24
‘As I said before Ramsey, I’m not really worried about getting back with her,’ Zubby said. ‘I know we will get back together eventually, but the most important thing for me is winning back her trust. She refuses to believe I didn’t have feelings for that woman, and I don’t know what to do to make her understand that. I’ve lost her trust, and that really bothers me.’
‘Okay Zubby, here’s what I’m going to do for you. Me and Genevieve go way back. I’ll go see her myself tomorrow. She can’t let—’
Ramsey was interrupted by his phone ringing. He looked at it. It was Genevieve.
‘Genevieve, hi...’ he answered. Zubby immediately sat up.
‘Is Zubby there?’ she asked on the other end of the line.
’Yes, he is. Do you want to speak to him?’
‘No, no. I’m coming over right now. I just went to see Omotola; she told me everything.’
‘Oh, you went to see Omotola? ... You’re coming over right now?’
‘Yes, I’m on my way. I’ll be there in less than ten minutes.’
‘We're waiting, see you soon! Bye!’
He hung up the phone.
‘Genevieve is on her way here. She said she just went to see Omotola and she told her everything.’
Zubby remained quiet. He did not know what to expect as they waited for Genevieve to arrive.
Ramsey and Rita decided to leave the living room to let Zubby and Genevieve have their privacy when she arrived.
Around ten minutes later, a knock echoed through the door. Zubby swung it open to see Genevieve and his heart was immediately filled with longing. However, what unfolded next caught him completely off guard. As soon as she laid eyes on him, Genevieve crumpled to her knees.
‘My love,’ she cried. ‘I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.’
Zubby slowly pulled her up to her feet. They hugged for a long moment as Genevieve cried into his chest, ‘I’m so sorry for doubting you. I feel horrible.’
Silently, Zubby led her into the living room and eased her onto the sofa. After a few more minutes of silence, he took her chin in his hand, gazed into her eyes, and said, ‘tell me what happened.’
Genevieve sat up and collected herself before speaking, ‘I went to see Omotola,’ her voice quavered. ‘She admitted everything to me. She told me how she tried to seduce you, but you never once succumbed. I’m sorry, Zubby. I feel terrible for not believing you.’
Zubby stood up from the couch. He was silent as he turned his back to her.
‘Genevieve,’ he finally said.
‘Yes, love?’ She got up and tried to wrap her arms around his waist, but he held her hands and gently returned her to her seat. She obliged.
‘Do you really love me?’
‘How can you ask me that, Zubby? You know I love you more than life itself. You’re my world. You’re my everything.’
He turned around and looked at her with a focused glare. ‘You say you love me, but if you really do love me, why would you take the word of a murderer and a liar over mine? Why, Genevieve? Suppose she had lied to you? Where would that have left us?’
Genevieve was unable to respond for a moment until she finally found her voice,
‘Zubby, I totally understand how you feel but I am a woman and I am with child. My feelings and emotions were all over the place. I didn’t know what to think. I just wasn’t in my right senses. I’m so sorry I doubted you. I feel so ashamed but I... I... just didn’t know what to believe. But this will only make us stronger. I beg you, please forgive me Zubby, please.’
Zubby remained pensive. Finally, he pulled her up, looked into her eyes, and said, ‘I forgive you. I will try to understand but you need to know that we have something special and we cannot allow anyone or anything to come between us.’
They embraced, holding onto each other as if time had stood still. The intensity of the moment gave way to a passionate kiss that spoke volumes of their longing. As they parted, they settled into a tender silence.
Zubby began to recount the tumultuous events of the past few days—the arrest of Omotola and Michael, the shock, and the surreal feeling of being trapped in a nightmare. The person he cared for the most seemed to despise him, and he felt lost, unsure of how to mend the broken pieces.
45
BAD INTENTIONS
‘The road to hell is paved with works-in-progress.’―PHILIP ROTH
Four hours past his scheduled time, Victor strolled into Peter Matthews' reception area with an air of nonchalance. As he headed straight for the lawyer's office, Agnes, the lawyer’s secretary, quickly jumped up to prevent him from barging in.
'Excuse me Mr. Agwu, Mr. Matthews is not available. He's with a client,' she said, glaring at Victor, whom she detested with passion. His arrogance stifled her.
‘With a mocking grin, he sneered at her, saying, 'Let him know I'm here to see him, woman.'
The lawyer was ready to see Victor forty-five minutes later.
'Okay, we have a challenge here,’ Peter Matthews explained. Rita intends to contest the will. That means the estate will be divided equally between you and her. As I mentioned before, the law will be on her side because she is the legitimate daughter of your parents, just like you are.'
‘I told you I should have got rid of her from the beginning. I should not have listened to you. Now, look what has happened,' Victor retorted angrily.
Rita, Zubby, Genevieve and Ramsey exchanged knowing glances as they listened to the bugged conversation. Rita grimaced and her eyes were brimming with tears. As Genevieve had suggested, her brother was a psychopath.
‘We’re beyond that point now, stop acting like a spoilt brat. Why do you hate your sister so much anyway? What did she ever do to you?’
‘Sir, I’m not here to discuss how I feel about that girl. I am here to resolve the problem once and for all. The entire inheritance belongs to me and I will not share it with anyone else. She will not get a penny more than she has received.’
Peter fell into a momentary silence, contemplating his next move. Determined to shield Rita from harm at all costs, he realized that Victor might take matters into his own hands if he refused to get involved. He knew what to do.
‘I can provide you with a phone number. It's entirely your decision on how to proceed, and I want you to weigh it carefully. I won't interfere; I only request that you inform me of your decision after making that call. Nevertheless, I strongly advise you to think thoroughly before dialling. Your parents left ample wealth for both of you to live comfortably, even if you split it evenly. The choice is yours.’
While Peter swiped through his phone in concentration, Victor waited until the lawyer found the phone number he sought on his phone.
‘I just texted you the number,' Peter said as Victor received an audible alert that notified him that he had received a message. I’ve never called this number before, but I understand they are professionals at what they do. I urge you to give this some thought, and let me know what you decide to do when you have made a decision.
‘Thank you,’ Victor smiled. ‘I’ll keep you informed,’ and he hurriedly left the office.
As Rita listened the conversation, the tears streamed down her cheeks. She had gone deathly pale, too horrified to speak. The feeling of light-headedness was overwhelming. Ramsey got up and sat next to her. He held her on his shoulder as she sobbed uncontrollably on his shoulder.
46
MURDER FOR HIRE
‘God has given us evidence sufficiently clear to convince those with an open heart and mind.’ ―BLAISE PASCAL
‘Hello? I'm Victor. I got your number from a trusted source. I have a job for you, when can we meet?'
‘I'm Dexter,’ the man replied. ‘I'd be happy for you to join me for dinner at the Black Chyna restaurant in Ikoyi on Friday at 8 PM Is that convenient?'
‘Yes, that will work for me.’
'You'll have to secure a reservation in advance. It will cost ten thousand naira. I'll text you a special number to confirm the reservation. Once it is verified, you'll receive a reference number. Text me that number as soon as you get it.
'I'll do that. Thank you,' Victor said, and hung up.
At 7:15 PM on Friday, Victor slid into his car and headed to the restaurant for his meeting with the enigmatic figure known only as Dexter. As per the reservation, their meeting was slated for an exclusive section of the restaurant, cordoned off from the public.
Victor arrived at the restaurant at 19:45, and located where he was meant to meet Dexter with the help of a waitress. He took a seat and ordered a gin and lime cocktail as he waited for Dexter to arrive.
At exactly 8 PM, Dexter walked into the restaurant. Dressed completely in black, he was 6 feet 4 inches tall, painfully thin and completely bald. There was a deep scar running from his right ear to the right side of his mouth. Moving slowly and deliberately, he exuded a terrifying, ominous presence that sent shivers down the spine.
Despite Victor's invitation, Dexter did not shake hands or acknowledge him as he sat down at the table. He simply waited for Victor to speak.
'Thank you for taking the time to meet with me,' Victor said.
‘What can I do for you?’ Dexter asked in a low and sinister voice that Victor found completely unnerving. He sounded nothing like the person he had spoken to over the phone.
‘There is someone who has been a constant thorn in my flesh, and I need you to take care of them. Here is a picture of—.’ But Dexter raised his hand to stop Victor from handing him a photo of Rita from his wallet.
'That's not how we work,' he said. ‘You provide an address, and everybody at that address is eliminated at the specified time. That is how we work.'
‘Oh, I see,’ Victor said, returning the picture to his wallet.
‘How many bodies at the location?'
‘Bodies? ...Oh, I see what you mean.’
Victor guessed Rita would probably hire a housemaid and gateman.
'I’m not exactly sure,' Victor admitted. ‘But there shouldn't be more than 3 or 4.'
‘The fee is 25 million naira per body. If we find three at the address, we’ll eliminate all of them at a cost of 75 million, and you’ll pay any outstanding balance within 24 hours of the job being completed.
After this meeting, I will text you bank account details where you will deposit 10 million naira to activate the contract. You'll then send the target address to a phone number that I'll provide you. Three days after receiving the address, I will send you the date and time of the assignment. Good night.'
Without saying another word, Dexter got up and left the restaurant.
THREE DAYS AFTER VICTOR’S meeting with Dexter, Peter Matthews received a call from him.
‘Mr Matthews. I’m just calling to give you an update. Everything is set. I have made up my mind to proceed, and I have received confirmation that the event is set to occur at 3 AM on Thursday 15th August.'
‘Quite frankly, Victor, I'm disappointed to hear that. I don't have anything else to say to you. I don't want you to ever return to my chambers or call this number ever again. Is that clear?'
'Fine. I have nothing more to say to you either. You can go to hell Mr Matthews,' Victor shouted angrily, and hung up. Afterwards, he deleted Peter Matthews' full contact details from his phone.
Peter Matthews contemplated what to do. It was hard for him to understand that Victor had plotted his sister's murder and was ready to kill her out of sheer greed. That was just not going to happen.
His hands were already stained with Clément’s and Tamara's blood. Not Rita’s too. With a huge sigh, he grabbed the phone and instructed Agnes: 'Get me the Commissioner of Police.’
HAVING LISTENED TO Victor telling Peter Matthews the date and time of the planned hit, Ramsey called Genevieve to let her know.
'So, what do we do now?’ He asked.
‘Nothing. This is the information Godson has been waiting for. He's going to take charge of everything from now on. However, what will happen is that the police will wait for the hired assassins to enter Rita's house and then arrest them.
These criminals have killed a lot of people at the behest of all types of people. To avoid the death penalty, they will eventually cut deals with the prosecution, and that is how we’ll nail Victor.’
THE FOLLOWING THURSDAY, three hired assassins under Dexter's command broke into 120 Igbosere Street at 3.00 AM, armed with semi-automatic machine guns. They were immediately surrounded by 50 heavily armed anti-riot policemen and arrested without incident.
GODSON STUDIED DEXTER across the metal table in the interrogation room at Alagbon Police Headquarters in Ikoyi.
‘Hello, Dexter. I’m Godson Ike. This is my partner, Richard Okpu.’
Dexter stared at the tabletop.
Godson let the silence stretch.
‘It’s over.’
Dexter’s jaw tightened.
‘I’m sure you already know how much trouble you’re in,’ Godson continued. ‘But let me spell it out.’
He leaned forward, elbows on the table.
‘Our team knows exactly who you are—and what you do. For ten years, you and your hired killers stayed just ahead of us. Elusive. Careful.’
‘We also know why you were at that address in Igbosere.’
Godson’s voice dropped.
‘You weren’t there to steal. You were there to kill.’
‘When the lab results come back, your DNA will link you to over a hundred murders nationwide.’
Dexter sucked in a shallow breath.
‘In the meantime, you sit in Kiri Kiri Maximum Prison for three to five years while your trial crawls through the courts.’
In a few days, your face hits every newspaper. Once word spreads that Kiri Kiri is your new address, you become a liability.’
Godson tilted his head.
‘The people who paid you won’t want you breathing. You won’t last a week.’
Dexter’s composure fractured.
His breathing became uneven. Sweat pooled at his temples. He wiped his palms on his jeans, then clasped his hands together like he was praying.
Godson softened his tone.
‘But it doesn’t have to end that way.’
Dexter blinked.
‘We know you weren’t the mastermind. You pulled triggers. That’s all. And right now, your testimony is worth more than your silence.’
He slid a file across the table.
‘You cooperate, and we relocate you up north during and after trial. No headlines. No cellmates who recognize your face. You serve quietly.’
Godson held him there.
‘That’s my offer.’
Dexter stared at the file.
His lips trembled.
‘What... what do I have to do?’
Godson nodded.
‘How long have you been operating?’
‘Fifteen years,’ Dexter whispered.
‘Do you remember your clients?’
‘Yes.’
Godson raised an eyebrow.
Dexter leaned forward now, voice rushed.
‘I always meet them first. Same restaurant in Ikoyi. They don’t know it, but I photograph every meeting. I keep everything. Names. Faces. Dates.’
Richard straightened.
Godson glanced at him.
‘So you documented everyone.’
Dexter nodded frantically.
‘Every single one.’
Godson exhaled.
‘That’s beautiful.’
He laid out three mugshots.
Victor. Michael. Omotola.
Dexter barely looked.
He jabbed at Victor.
‘He hired me for Igbosere.’
Then Michael.
‘Three jobs. Over ten years.’
His hands shook.
Godson gripped Richard’s hand.
‘Bingo.’
BEFORE DAWN THREE DAYS later, coordinated raids rolled out across Lagos, Abuja, Port Harcourt, Enugu, and Ibadan.
Plainclothes officers led entry teams. Tactical units breached doors. Warrants were served simultaneously to prevent tip-offs.
Phones were seized. Hard drives cloned. Financial records boxed.
Some suspects surrendered quietly.
Others tried to run.
Two attempted to flush documents. One jumped from a first-floor balcony and broke his leg.
By sunrise, dozens were in custody.
By nightfall, the number had climbed past one hundred and fifty—serving politicians, retired officials, senior bureaucrats, prominent lawyers.
Dexter had detonated a chain reaction.
Even with a British barrister skilled at manufacturing reasonable doubt, Omotola and Michael had nowhere left to hide. Dexter’s testimony placed them directly at multiple murder scenes: Chief Ernest Ike and his wife. Alhaji Dangote and his wife. Chief Adenuga’s first wife and children.
The evidence was airtight.
The trigger man had spoken.
And the empire they had built on silence began to collapse—fast.
47
THE STING OF KARMA
‘Karma bides its time. You will always have to watch out. Karma is unforgiving and always gets payback.’ ―BENJAMIN BAYANI
Peter Matthews was in his element. He was cross-examining a witness at the Lagos High Court, and had poked several holes in his testimony. With question after question, he neutralized the witness' credibility and had him exactly where he wanted him. He was confident of winning the case for his client.
All of a sudden, his heart began palpitating faster than usual, and his chest felt tight. He felt intense pain in his abdomen, but it wasn't like anything he had ever experienced before. Soon after, Peter slumped to the ground. The courtroom was chaotic as he was carried out, and eventually transported to the hospital.
At the hospital, Peter received a diagnosis of a rare kidney disease, and his survival depended on finding a matching donor. Despite his financial means, Peter was unsure where to locate a suitable kidney donor. The doctor informed him that he could only receive a kidney donation from his father, brother or son, and he believed he had neither. With his parents deceased, and being an only child, unmarried and without a son, the situation seemed precarious and hopeless.
