by Bill O. A
He stood for some time then decided to sit close to a female reporter. She was setting up to give a news update in front of her cameraman. He sat and smiled at his ingenuity till date; he was able to make a call to the FBI agent whom he planted a tracking device underneath his official SUV at Fisherman’s Wharf on his first night in Sacramento. He introduced himself as a DHL official whom couldn’t locate George at his university. He persisted that the parcel was urgent and would need to be left with anyone close to the professor. The FBI agent became exasperated with his persistence and told him to contact his boss, Agent Alfred, at Four Seasons Hotel. With this, he had his lead.
After making the necessary tips, the hotel manager sang like a bird; George was off to Nigeria with a rich businessman via flight charter.
He took his time and then made the trip to the Republic of Benin, a neighbouring country to Nigeria, from there he travelled by road to Lagos and was welcomed with the news of the twins’ adoption fifteen years ago, it felt as if the gods were with him. His disguise as a journalist would definitely come in handy.
Here he was, trying to locate George, but from all his inquiries, the professor was not with the family. He will still have to be patient, something would come up. This crowd was just ideal for the moment; the way these Nigerians share information was truly unique to their way of life. This would surely be his last attempt on the ex-Marine’s life and he would have to terminate him whatever way possible. He had all the advantages now.
“Efosa, I have to admit you were somewhat correct when you insinuated that the hospital angle might not yield much,” said George. “I was surprised to learn that the laboratory staff from year 2000 were the only ones still there.”
“Yeah,” replied the private detective. “That kind of incident will leave a mark on the soul. People would likely want to move on and forget that ordeal.”
“Hmmm,” said the professor. “I really didn’t see it from that angle. You must have seen some stuff in this line of work.”
The Nigerian from the south-south, just smiled and finished his cold bottle of Coca-Cola.
The historian decided to put on the television in his hotel room to keep himself company as his guest had left, while their military security detail monitored the floor where they were staying.
Both had settled down and George brought out his laptop to check his mails. Soon after, he began another conversation with the other man.
“I see the FBI have about 37% search success with the data the lieutenant colonel sent them. At this rate the next seven days should reveal a lot if nothing positive emerge from our agenda here in the country.”
“That is quite some achievement. They must have tuned the software into some kind of super speed mode,” replied Efosa.
“I can’t wait for anything concrete from any side.”
George began to surf the Web to keep up with work at the University when Efosa’s mobile phone rang.
“Hello Chuka, don’t tell me someone wants to claim the reward?”
“Not at all, detective. I am at the airport in Kaduna.”
“You are here!” screamed Efosa. “What is going on?”
“We have solid intel that one of the girls’ kidnappers is running a bureau de change as his daytime job. We have already scheduled a ruse meeting with him in the bank he trades frequently with. It seems his daytime job is lucrative. The bankers are proposing a hundred and fifty thousand dollars sales to him on behalf of their client. He is in their meeting room as we speak, haggling away. The bankers have been informed to keep him there till we get there.”
“Incredible. I don’t believe it,” responded Efosa.
George noticed the tone of his voice and stopped what he was doing to pay better attention.
“So are you saying in the next hour you would have him in your custody?” asked Efosa.
“Forty-five minutes to be precise. We will move him to a nearby facility were proper questioning can begin. I will tell my men with you to bring you guys over once he is in our net.”
“Thank you so much,” replied the detective. “I will update George accordingly.”
Alhaji was shocked to see the number of reporters standing outside Bode’s house. He began to worry that the issue was almost irreparable. As his motorcade drove in, he began to review the notes he had made for this highly anticipated meeting.
Bode stood outside as the vehicle in which his unexpected guest parked close to him. The door to the SUV was opened by security personnel from another SUV and the billionaire stepped out.
“Ah, Alhaji,” exclaimed Bode in greeting. “Always a pleasure to see you.”
“Likewise, my friend, likewise.”
“This way in please,” said Bode. “You really haven’t been to my house before.”
“That is correct,” replied Alhaji. “The capital has the better of me most of the time.”
The two men went into the house.
“A nice place you have here, taste seems to run in your blood.”
Bode smiled at the compliment. “Well, as you might be aware, my lost son is alive and we are on a mission to find him.”
“Yeah, it is all over the news,” replied Alhaji. “I am sure success would be yours soon.”
“Thank you so much, sir. So what can I offer you? I have a rich exotic bar for times like this.”
“I will start with water based on your family’s mood at this time,” responded the secret ritualistic man.
“Certainly sir,” replied Bode. “We are grateful for your gesture.”
Four minutes later, Alhaji was seated in the private office of his host sipping a glass of water.
“Let me tell you something, we respect that you know your onions on the movement of foreign exchange, but no registered company will agree to sell their FOREX to you at the black-market rate.”
The bankers were trying their best to create a diversionary discussion to keep Kazeem fully engaged.
“They would rather you pay the CBN rate to their bank account, pick up a receipt for same and bring the balance equivalent to roughly N5.7m in cash. There cannot be any record that a responsible company sold at an unofficial rate, or are you trying to blackmail them for trading and making an undeclared profit?”
“Oh, not at all,” replied the secret criminal. “It is just that we are a trio who are pulling resources together to make up the slightly over N35m. Just give me a minute, let me call and explain the situation to them.” He sat in one of the chairs in the meeting room and began making some calls.
A few minutes later, Chuka walked into the room and looked around. He instinctively identified Kazeem as he was the only person in the room not wearing a suit. He had his mobile phone to his ear while he tried to listen to the call. In a split second, Chuka took five steps and approached the dealer on his right side, brought out his side arm, and pointed it at Kazeem’s legs. He aimed for his left thigh, at the same time feeling for his femur.
He took a shot while Kazeem was trying to understand what was going on. The sound of the gunshot shook everyone in the room. The bullet passed through his leg, missing the bone. It was a show of professionalism; years of peacekeeping in guerrilla locations had made the Nigerian Army creative. It was a flesh wound all right, but the intention was to create pain and disturb mental alertness for what was to come.
The dealer held his thigh and was about to scream when barely a second later, the lieutenant colonel lifted him with one hand across his neck and held him up against the adjacent wall. He was choking the man. The bankers in the room did not expect this and they all scampered for their perceived safety. Three military personnel stood by and were watching the action.
Chuka released his hand and let the criminal fall after about a minute when he realised, he had almost strangled Kazeem. Trying to catch his breath and with the pain in his leg, the dealer looked up in an attempt to muster his thoughts and say something, but the next few words he heard broke his spirit.
“Where are t
he twin girls from Saint Joseph Primary School you and your goons kidnapped in year 2000? And be ready to explain the Garkuma Hospital fire and the lost boy. Who were your masters on those jobs? You have two minutes to start talking or I will blow out your kneecap.”
Kazeem knew it was all over, he looked at the floor on realising the situation. Two minutes weren’t up yet, but Chuka was already running out of patience. He cocked the pistol again and aimed. Kazeem raised his hand in surrender.
“I will talk, I will talk!” he screamed.
Chapter 42
All Areas, Nigeria
9th July 2015, 12:18 p.m.
“This watch has been in production since 1924,” said Alhaji. “Not only has it evolved over the years, but it’s appreciation in the market has quadrupled in the last twenty years. One catching feature we put on the website is the A—Z of the watches. It has a way of drawing potential buyers.”
Bode was quiet and watched as his boss indulged in dramatics.
“So, you see a stake of $50m is the starting point of belonging to a historically rich global company for the necessary clout and assuring dividends that come with it. Bode, what do you think of owning shares in this Swiss company?”
The lesser businessman was amazed; he knew this was some kind of trick question but he couldn’t place his finger on it.
“Well, the potential inflow of dividends is truly captivating but I would love to know what this is all about.” His mobile rang as he finished his sentence. “Just a minute Alhaji, I will be back shortly,” said Bode as he stood up and walked to the side of his private office. “Hello! Please who is speaking?” asked the father of twins.
“My name is Bishop Funsho Dairo. I am with the Archdiocese of Ibadan, current spiritual head. I am calling in respect of Moses.”
“Okay sir, but who is Moses?”
Alhaji was listening keenly, as any and every information was vital at this dicey stage.
“Oh sorry,” said the Catholic Most Reverend, “I meant Kenny’s twin brother. You know the one that has been in the dailies for the past few days.”
Bode couldn’t believe his ears, somehow, he knew good news was on its way. “Okay Bishop, what do you have for me?”
“Well, I am pleased to tell you that the boy is with us. He has been with us all this while. We actually brought him to Ibadan from Kaduna at the age of ten to start minor seminary. He is being driven to my office from Saint Theresa Minor Seminary, Oke Are. Once he gets here, we will come to Lagos to hand him over to you via the authorities.”
Bode sank into a stool close by, he couldn’t believe what he had just was heard. Alhaji noticed the sudden demeanour of his host and enquired what the problem was.
“My son has been found,” exclaimed Kenny’s father.
Alhaji was perplexed; he just didn’t know what to say.
George, Efosa and Chuka all stood at the live video of the interrogation of Kazeem. He was singing like a bird to buy himself life imprisonment. Tales of life on death row, especially in the North were harrowing; this was the reasonable way for him to go.
“So what now?” asked George. “We know who the kidnappers are. Let us spring on them and get our boy.”
“It is not that easy,” replied Chuka. “The man responsible for the kidnappings and the fire is no ordinary Nigerian. I will have to boycott the committee on this matter and speak to the Vice President myself. I will accord you two gentlemen one more courtesy by inviting you to the audio call via speakers, but please you must remain silent.”
Eleven minutes later, a call was put through to Aso Rock.
“This is unbelievable,” said the country’s number two man. “I will have to bring the President in on this right away. Please give me thirty minutes and I will call you back.”
The return call from the Vice President came five minutes early.
“Colonel, you are to stand down and keep the information within your circle there in Kaduna. The President himself will invite Alhaji to Abuja to get a confession from him. He will be encouraged to submit himself to the Inspector General of Police for immediate processing, hence arrangements are under way for him to be charged to court for the various crimes. He will also be encouraged to plead guilty and the death sentence would be passed a few days after. The President has communicated with the leaders of the six geopolitical zones and it has been agreed that a commute of sentence from death by hanging to life will be issued the penultimate month of our government’s exit from power in eight years’ time. The bottom line is he will spend the rest of his days behind bars and fade away from the memories of Nigerians. Do you understand Colonel?”
“Yes sir,” replied Chuka. “But what of the architect involved? Do we arrest him?”
“I think you should keep watch on him and apprehend him when Alhaji gets to the villa. You have done a good job. This isn’t wartime, but I have recommended a medal for you on this rather intelligent task. Do contact me on my private cell for any development, have a great day.”
“So where is the boy now?” inquired Alhaji.
“He is with the head of the Catholic of Ibadan. They are bringing him to Lagos once their logistics are settled.”
“We will have none of that,” replied Alhaji. “Call him back and tell him that I am sending a chopper to pick up their entourage. This is a grand moment and we must not mess it up.”
“I am honoured by your show of love and care at this special time for my family. Please let me go and inform my family of this news and the special investigative team set up by the Federal Government.”
“That is fine,” replied Alhaji. He watched as Bode left the home office then made a call to Azeem.
While the phone was ringing, he made mental calculations. This was a pleasant surprise. Not only had he saved himself his $50m equity, he was certain that with the right political muscle, the investigation would lose it steam as the main driver has been found. The people who died in the fire will receive compensation from his company as a form of corporate social responsibility (CSR). Everything seemed to be fine, except that the main ingredients were not yet acquired. Well, half a loaf is always better than none.
Bode stepped into the living room and couldn’t find his wife. He walked further to the kitchen, and there she was, checking what was cooking in the oven.
“Honey.”
Toun knew the meaning of his tone of voice. She turned quietly and looked at her husband in anticipation.
“I need you to come upstairs with me to Kenny’s room. I have something for both of you.”
Her mind went into deep thoughts. Their son was dead, he must have died some years ago she thought. She braced herself and followed him gracefully towards the edge of the stairs.
“I can’t hold it any longer. Can you just tell me what you know?”
Bode smiled as he went upstairs. They both opened the door of Kenny’s room; he was watching a recorded premier league football match. He turned to see who was standing at the entrance of his room.
“Son, we have good news for you.”
“What is it?” asked Kenny. He was eager to hear the news.
“Your brother has been found.”
Toun began to cry and held her husband tight.
“Where is he, Dad? Where is he?”
“I think it is best we inform Bode of current happenings,” said George. “It wouldn’t be fair to return to Lagos and not give them a pre-briefing.”
“You are right,” replied Chuka. “Call him and tell him the journey will soon be over. Once we pick up the remaining field troops for the kidnapping and arson on that day, we should be able to tie the loopholes and track this important boy.
“While you are doing that, I will arrange to have the architect followed. I am sure his confession would help wrap up this case, considering the overwhelming evidence that presents itself.”
Six minutes later George’s call to Bode for the third time clicked.
“Hi Mr Williams, I thought you were far a
way from your phone.”
“Not at all American. We have found Taiye.”
George was shocked. He couldn’t hide his excitement. “You have found him!” screamed the historian.
Efosa and Chuka who were outside the conference room came back in on hearing the news. They were about to speak when George signalled for some quiet.
“Tell me everything,” said the excited ex-Marine.
“He is in Ibadan with the head of the Catholic Archdiocese. Alhaji is sending a chopper to pick him up as a celebratory gesture.”
“Alhaji!” screamed George.
Chuka and Efosa wanted to know exactly what was happening so the lieutenant colonel turned on the speakers.
“Mr Williams, Chuka here. Please do not take any help from Alhaji. He is behind everything, from the kidnapping to the fire. The President has taken up the matter personally. Public disgrace and ridicule awaits him, not to talk of him spending the rest of his days in prison.”
Bode heard all and remained unmoved, he knew telling his wife these details will set the house on fire. The man behind their family’s travail sat comfortably downstairs offering gifts, when he knew full well that he was responsible for the entire problem.
“I understand,” replied Bode. “I will see to it that no such thing happens. By the way, why hasn’t he been picked up?”
“It will come,” replied Chuka.
Chapter 43
All Areas, Nigeria
9th July 2015, 6:43 p.m.
The news of Taiye’s discovery had circulated round the country. The nun who took him in as a child had been flown in from Kaduna and she had a lot to tell. The baby had been left in front of the big door of the only convent in the State, a common act by mothers who couldn’t take care of their new born, or by parents who were Muslims but had gradually believed in the Christian faith and who couldn’t convert due to societal issues in that part of the country. To connect with the faith, they often offered their children to the convent as a symbolic and religious gesture to the heavenlies. Many occurrences had been witnessed over the years and it became the norm every now and then to see a new born left at the sacred place.