UNDER SIEGE (A Story Of Hope)

by Ciuri Di Badia

  She was about to make her bed when the unexpected happened: Somebody was trying to break in into her apartment through her backdoor. He managed to by slowly turning the locks handle. He then strode inside, closing the door behind him. In all that, he made sure that he did not attract unnecessary attention.

  He wore a hooding mask to disguise his face and ears. His only notable features were his burly built frame and a dark hair. Nothing could be made out of his covered face. With that mask on and a 21’ automatic pistol on his gloved right hand; obviously, he was not there with good intentions. No one enters another person’s home in that manner. Save for the burglars and assassins. Clearly, trouble was looming. It was going to be a very abysmal night.

  The darkness in the apartment did not hold him back. He took a side by side momentary look before starting to hurtle towards Birma’s bedroom. He went closer, taking each step at a time as if he was following a clearly demarcated path. He knew what he was doing.

  The bedroom door was still ajar, just the way Dan had left it. In a way it eased the situation for the intruder. He stiffened his grip onto the pistol and got ready for ambush. In an instant, he leaped inside as if he was sure that his pesky victim was waiting for him. He found her.

  He had made his way into the apartment with a sharp precision. One could argue that he had been there before. Probably, that’s why he didn’t struggle while figuring out where to find her.

  He wielded his pistol, pointing right into her forehead. Then, he instructed her to keep quiet. Birma did and more so, went timid, trembling to her spine. She wanted to plead with the darned assailant but she was so terrified to do it. She wanted to scream but her voice box felt too numb to compose a scream. She helplessly slid from her bed and sank onto her knees…..still unable to utter a word. She just put both of her hands up as if to suggest surrender or to plead for a compromise. Nothing came out of the move.

  The goon did not waste time, leaving Birma with little time to fight back nor scream for help. He clipped in the silencer, and then reinforced his hold onto the pistol using his left hand before releasing its safety catch. He then cocked it and pulled the trigger. The pistol exploded with a blinding flash. Birma went down, face first to the floor.

  As blood dribbled from her forehead, the attacker was already going away, leaving her for the dead. He had said very little, left nothing of substance that could give him away. He disappeared through the same way that he came in.

  The incident had happened so fast and systematic that no one saw nor heard anything.

  It is awful how Birma lost her life; especially on such a day that she had a sweet romp session. Her death came so sudden; it robbed her of her promising future and happiness, it took away her chance of ever prospering in life and living the American dream. On the right note, it also saved her from the pickle of finding out that she had slept with the wrong guy.

  * * * * * * *

  Very late in the night, the night security officer James, who normally bucked-off shifts with Blake, noticed that it was odd that Birma’s back door was opened at that time of the night. He called out her name but nobody answered. He called out again and again receiving no response. He started smelling a rat. Something was amiss!

  “Something is not right here, it’s all queer; the opened door, the silence, could she be deep asleep” James wondered to himself.

  His instincts led him inside only to discover Birma’s body lying prostrate on the floor. James was shocked beyond belief. He had never seen such a horrifying scenario in his life. His mind hazed in disbelief….he couldn’t think clearly for a while, he just kept gaping on Birma’s body. It was in that bewilderment that his gut feelings came into play. It came as his only rescue. He called-out everyone in the patio.

  They all thronged the apartment apart from Tommy who was nowhere to be seen. With the police notified, they all continued mourning and cursing earth under the perpetrator of the brutal act. Everyone had their eyes ogled onto the mess on the floor.

  Dan was the most poignant. Memories of his ‘horse ride’ with Birma were still afresh on his mind. He couldn’t believe that she was dead. A few hours before, they had slept together. Now, she was lying before him, lifeless. The sight was so painful to Dan. He couldn’t fully comprehend what had happened. It’s hard to define exactly how he was feeling. The best I can do is to rap it in a simple lyric: he was the saddest amongst the sad who had been saddened by the saddening incident.

  It’s amazing how fast things happen in this world. Good things happen without notice and so are the bad and the ugly. In her case, nobody could see her death coming. It came out of nowhere and just happened. The plan she had with Tommy went wrong. Within a few hours, a lot had happened; break in, gunshot, death…..Moments ago you were reading about passion, but now we are talking of a murder….that’s how fast things happen.

  Everyone stood there, shocked and speechless. It was as if everything had been put into a sudden halt or as if time had been paused for a moment. They were all shaken up to a point of not knowing what to do or not do, anymore.

  It was in between that silence that an onlooker came forward and urged people not to touch anything.

  “Touching and rearranging stuff here would be tantamount to tampering with evidence. Please guys, I understand all of you are in pain but lets make it easy for the police, lets leave the place as we found it” the self proclaimed moderator pleaded with everyone.

  His words did not fall on deaf ears as they were respected by the mourners. They all consulted solemnly as they waited for the arrival of police. It was a moment of uncertainty for nobody knew what would happen next. They all felt insecure. Some presumed that a bad omen had befallen on them. In a matter of fact, a lady was muttering in a heavenly entreaty asking God for divine interventions over what happened. In her prayer, she described the case before them as beyond human control.

  Within no time, the N.Y.P.D police cars were screeching to a halt on the court’s parking lot. Sirens still on; the police came out of their cars in numbers. Several people who had been consulting solemnly looked on. The sight of the police did not make their situation better; they were still shocked and confused as everyone else inside the apartment. The officers greeted them and asked for direction to the distressed apartment.

  They found their way to the apartment and quickly swung into action. Each one of them seemed to know the role that they were supposed to play. Most of them carried all manner of devices. From cameras to police lines, from evidence bags to buttons, from finger print collectors to tape measures. Others had electronic devices that a layman can’t explain what they were.

  They started with what they usually do first; clearing the scene off people and subsequently cordoning it off. Then, they took photographs, collected a pair of slippers that was covered in blood and vacuum cleaned the tiny masses on the carpet into a separate virgin dust bag. They then folded up the blood stained carpet and packed it separately. Some other necessary effects were included; among them being her jewelries, combs and hair bands which were tweezed into their holding packets. Each packet was then hermetically sealed to prevent contamination.

  They went to the door handle where they photographed it and dusted it with powder which sticks to oily deposits and reveals finger print’s spiral pattern. A copy of the finger prints that were found was taken using special lifting tape. The tapes were placed on a print and were peeled off to give the police an exact reproduction of the fingerprint to take with them. Other items were later included in the collection. Those were considered as substantial evidence.

  They then moved to the next task, the hardest task of all; finding the shrapnel. Shrapnel is usually used in ballistic tests. It is from it that investigators are able to determine the type of gun used and other technical minutiae. It was a crucial part of the investigation. They looked for it on the floor and under the bed with no success. They continued groping and groping for it around the room making sure that every inch of it has been perus
ed. Each time, they reconstructed the shooting incident so that they could get a clue to where the bullet could have gone. Finally, a break through was found when one officer found it lodged inside the mattress.

  Detective Allen was the man in charge of the team. In his work, he embodied protocols such as integrity, uprightness and the rules of natural justice. His previous experience as a detective spoke for itself. He managed to break through all the barriers that impeded him from solving cases. With his tenacity and his belief in not leaving anything to chance, he was pretty convinced that the case in hand was a walk in the park.

  His every case follows definite stages. First, he collects initial evidences from the location where a situation was purported to have begin; that is, at a crime scene or in other cases at the point of distress. His primary evidences are normally in terms of materials and testimonies from witnesses who saw things happen firsthand.

  Vulnerable evidences are collected first. These are items that can easily be displaced and tampered with by natural elements e.g. wind and light. The evidence is kept in airtight bags and packets to prevent damage. Those are taken to the lab where important information is deduced.

  Next, he scrutinizes evidence that he has gathered to establish the circumstances that could have resulted to a certain eventuality. It is at this stage that the detective tries to reconstruct what could have happened by putting the evidence together in the most probable manner. In this, he relies on the most plausible information. The rest of the evidence is considered as questionable or fabricated. Those are kept for future reference.

  The detective then moves to the next level in his pursuit for justice. He assesses individuals who are involved in a matter against the information that he has put together to determine who is likely to be culpable. After settling on one or a two, he then goes back to the field to conduct a deeper investigation based on his culpable suspects. This is the defining stage in an investigation is the trickiest since suspects normally try to sabotage his progress by way of distorting or concealing information it altogether.

  After getting more information on those individuals and fixing missing links, he goes to the drawing board again and scrutinizes his evidence again. If he deems his new found evidence as satisfactory, he concatenates it with the old information and acquires a warrant to have the suspect arrested.

  The rest of the way is well marked out. They meet in a law court where the case is heard. If he proves his case, the suspect is prosecuted and case is closed. If otherwise, he goes back to his evidences and start to form another build up that will end up in court room once again.

  That is a long and arduous process that demands callousness from the doer. The detective had it; it made him equal for the task. Irregardless of what people thought of him, he usually did what was required of him. To him, the struggle meant something else to him: when he struggled it meant that he was working. Without it he would be idle or his job won’t be challenging enough. He loved it, he felt contented especially when he delivered justice to the aggrieved.

  His sheer determination stemmed from the values that his grandmother instilled in him right from his childhood. When he was four years, his parents died when a hurricane swept through their home. Till today, he owes his life to the visit that he had made to his grandmother at the time. His grandmother lived in Orlando and the loss of his parents forced him to remain there for the rest of his childhood years.

  His grandmother then became his only guardian. She raised him in her own way. She made sure that he lacked nothing and at the same time ensured that he got most of life. That included hardening him so that he could not be broken down by tribulations that would come on his way. He has lived true to that. Nothing wears the detective down.

  In whatever that he did, he always drew his motivation from two clichés that he kept dear. First, he believed that success in anything does not come till the task is done to the last bit. Secondly, if he felt like giving up in the middle of a task, he would make reference to the first cliché. That kept him moving.

  As a grown up, he needed his cliché more than ever, both in his personal life and in his profession. His job was demanding. It required one to devote himself fully. At some point he had to sacrifice his personal time for his profession. It was often that his phone rang in the middle of the night informing him that something has come up and that his presence was required. It bothered him before but as he got used to the nature of his work, it became a norm. Sometimes he keeps his self phone under his pillow as he sleeps so as not to miss any call. “You never know what might come up tonight” he habitually says.

  His appraisal was based on the output; that is, having a case fully solved. It was until he established whom the guilty one was that his work was deemed as complete. He was not expected to deliver less than that. As a matter of fact, in his department, all the unsolved cases whose files had been closed were recorded as a backlog. The stakes were high and subsequently, the expectations higher.

  Being a detective is so demanding. It requires one to not only have a creative mind, but also be able to reinforce it with practical thinking. In that case, one is at least assured of a chance to progress. Time and again, he had to employ methods that could link unbundled cues to be able to resolve a case. Although all the cases were different, many a times, he found himself doing the same things. He verified calls and travel links, interviewed witnesses and trailed his subjects. He made conclusions and recommendations. After sometime he found himself in a new case that would follow the same pattern.

  On one of his hardest and confusing cases, a woman was reported missing. As her family stated, the day was just as any other on her schedule. Being a Saturday, she usually worked for a half day. The rest of the day was mostly spent with friends or shopping depending on the time of the month. She woke up before everyone else and prepared herself before leaving for work.

  Her three daughters woke up an hour later and afterwards left the house for a dancing club where they spend most of their daytime. They had enlisted as ballets four months before as they looked forward to the national dancing competition later that year. Behind, they left their father who was yet to wake up. He usually spent most of his Saturday mornings sleeping after a long week at his tanning factory.

  The daughters had their fun as usual. Through out the day, they learned, practiced, danced and mingled with other learners from other places. It all came to an end in the evening when they left for home. On arrival, they found their father making snacks for the family. They joined in. It was a lovely moment. He loved them and they knew it. He always took care of his family. Its one common trait of a father that is unmistakable.

  They also made dinner together, taking breaks to the shower in turns. They then served and had dinner, leaving their mums plates on the table so that she would find them ready the moment she arrives.

  It was at 9 pm when it occurred to them that it was unusual that their mum had not arrived home. It was unlike her that she was not home at that time without notice. They tried calling her but she couldn’t pick her cell phone. They tried and tried but nothing came of it. It got so late that they went to sleep. The following morning they continued giving her cell phone a go; again and again. The same thing happened. She did not answer.

  When evening came, they couldn’t bear it any longer, the whole family therefore went to report the matter to the police. The police empathized with them and assured them that they would look into the matter with urgency. With that, they returned home with hopes of the best.

  It did not take a lot of time before the police got to her car via a car tracking system. All her personal stuff was intact including her phone. They looked for her in the neighborhood; asking store operators and residents if they had seen her but none of them had a clue. There was no trace of her. Memos were circulated to the nearby hospitals in a bid to locate her but they too yielded no results.

  It was not until a day later that an old man, while taking a walk along the river bank,
saw a body that had been swept downstream. It was later to be identified as that of the missing woman. Her car had been found a mile away from the old man’s ranch. He immediately ran to his country house where he called the police.

  Detective Allen was assigned the case and dispatched to the ranch. As he arrived, the body was still trapped in between reeds and hence couldn’t be swept away by the raging current. He had a tough task ahead of him.

  They collected evidences in form of photos and later took the body away in a body bag. It was then taken to the government pathologist who conducted an autopsy on it. He then embalmed it and sent it to the mortuary. He also sent a copy of the autopsy results to detective Allen.

  The autopsy indicated that the corpse lacked properties of a body that had drowned. First, her muscles did not show signs of rigor mortis (a condition where a drowned body stiffens its limb’s muscles after death.) The condition lasts for about two days. The inner-lining of her lungs, where oxygen gets absorbed, was still in perfect form. That was contrary to what a drowned body should present. When one inhales water and it gets to the lungs, it destroys its inner-lining.