Lightseekers

by Femi Kayode

  ‘Thank you, Dr Okaro. No further questions.’

  ‘Defence, any questions for the witness?’

  Salome stands. ‘Salome Briggs representing accused number four.’

  The Honourable Justice looks towards the bench where the accused sit. The loud voice of someone who must be the court clerk or bailiff barks out: ‘Accused number four, stand up!’

  One of the five men stands up. He appears to be in his early twenties but is so spent he looks much older.

  The clerk/bailiff orders him to sit and the Judge turns to Salome. ‘Please proceed.’

  ‘Dr Okaro, you’ve confirmed that the cause of death is the burning of the victims?’

  ‘With the exception of Kevin Nwamadi who suffered blunt trauma to the head, yes, the primary cause of death in the other two victims was extensive burns.’

  ‘May I ask my client to stand again?’

  It is quite sad the way the Accused Number 4 stands, so soon after sitting. Like a puppet on display. Almost definitely Thorazine.

  ‘Defence presents Ezenwo Dikeh for the record.’ Salome points at her client and then turns back. ‘Dr Okaro, have you seen the videos of the killings?’

  ‘Everyone has.’

  ‘Have you?’

  ‘Yes. Many times.’

  ‘Did you see my client in any of the videos?’

  ‘Definitely.’

  The prosecutor stands up quickly. ‘My Lord, Dr Okaro is a pathologist, not a video reviewer. Can Ms Briggs establish relevance, please?’

  ‘I’m getting there, My Lord,’ Salome answers, and I see her mocking smile in my mind’s eye. ‘Dr Okaro, so you can identify my client as one of the people in the mob?’

  ‘In the videos, I have seen, yes.’

  ‘Was there any time that you saw my client put tyres around the victims, pour petrol on them and set them alight?’

  Even I can see where Salome is going. I feel like shouting at the prosecutor to object immediately. It’s not relevance Salome wants to prove.

  ‘Of course not,’ Dr Okaro answers, bristling. I suspect she knows she’s been set up.

  ‘So, if the fire killed the victims, and if my client didn’t put the tyres over them, or pour the petrol, or light the match, he shouldn’t be standing trial for their murders?’

  The whole courtroom seems to come alive. Outrage and shock at Salome’s audacity fill the room. Surely she can’t hope to get away with it.

  ‘Ridiculous!’ The lawyers on the prosecution side are standing, all speaking at the same time. The one who had been questioning Dr Okaro faces Salome. ‘Your client was clearly there. He is in the video and we have proof that he laid several blows on more than one of the victims.’

  Salome shrugs and points to Dr Okaro. ‘But there’s no proof that my client’s blows were the direct cause of death.’

  The prosecutor gasps for effect. ‘Are you being serious?’

  ‘Enough!’ The Honourable Justice bangs his gavel repeatedly, causing a gradual hush in the courtroom. ‘Ms Briggs, are you seeking an acquittal?’

  ‘My Lord, my client never denied that he was present at the unfortunate incident that led to the deaths of the victims. All I’m saying is that the state’s demand for the maximum charge is punitive unless mens rea and actus rea are proven.’

  ‘That’s what we’re doing!’ the prosecutor shouts, livid.

  Salome doesn’t miss a beat. ‘If, as your expert witness states, the cause of death was burning, and your main proof of guilt is my client’s presence at the scene of the crime, I am demanding that you show him putting tyres around the necks of the victims, lighting the fire and watching them burn without trying to save them. If you can’t, drop the current charges and give him a lesser one.’

  The whole court is in an uproar. The noise is so loud that the Honourable Justice’s shout for order is lost on everyone.

  If I were not still in shock from seeing Salome here, I’d be applauding.

  CONFIRMATIONS AND REVELATIONS

  From where we stand next to the Land Cruiser, Chika and I watch Salome walk towards us. The sun is on her face and I wonder how she manages to look like she just stepped out of an air-conditioned room while everyone else is sweating like they were in a sauna.

  ‘Gentlemen,’ she says.

  ‘You’re certainly full of surprises,’ I try unsuccessfully to keep the resentment out of my voice.

  ‘You knew I’m a lawyer –’

  ‘You said oil and gas.’

  ‘And that’s true,’ she answers calmly.

  ‘Not the lawyer for the accused of a case I’m working on!’ Her composure makes me raise my voice louder than I would’ve liked.

  ‘Does it matter? You said you were here to find out why it happened, not apportion guilt,’ she answers coolly.

  ‘There’s something called disclosure,’ Chika interjects before I can respond.

  ‘To an interested party, yes,’ she says in a voice slightly colder than the one used towards me. Be careful, the tone says to Chika. Know your place.

  There’s an awkward silence as Chika glowers, his fists clenched. Just then, Dr Okaro walks over to us and the tension rises a thousand notches.

  ‘Ms Briggs.’

  ‘Dr Okaro.’

  The two women eye each other like two harrier birds gauging the best angle for attack.

  ‘I see you remain determined to ensure the guilty go unpunished,’ Dr Okaro says with contempt.

  ‘I assume that an academic such as yourself should know that without allowing for credible defence, the state would be guilty of the same jungle justice my clients are accused of.’

  ‘Bending the truth is not a defence,’ Dr Okaro says with a derisive snort.

  ‘It’s called proving a case. Something your side is doing a poor job of. Excuse me.’

  Salome walks away, leaving a tense silence. I give Dr Okaro a tight smile, trying to quell the urge to apologise for Salome’s comments.

  ‘You did very well in there, madam,’ Chika says, and I could have hugged him when Dr Okaro’s stern demeanour dissolves as she looks at him with a somewhat sad smile.

  ‘What good will it do? I’ve given my evidence numerous times, and each time, Ms Briggs still manages to get yet another accused off because the prosecutors didn’t do their homework.’

  ‘It must be frustrating,’ Chika says sympathetically.

  ‘You can’t imagine. And it’s going to get even worse now that Godwin Emefele is dead. Which is why I’ve come over.’ Dr Okaro looks at me with less warmth. ‘I saw you come into court and I said to myself, what a coincidence. I was going to call you …’

  ‘You found something?’ I’m unable to keep the excitement out of my tone.

  ‘It’s not conclusive, but there’re strong indications of alkaloids in Godwin’s blood.’

  ‘Alkaloids?’ Chika asks.

  ‘Poison,’ I say to him and turn back to Dr Okaro. ‘Any chance it can be identified?’

  ‘The boy had so many chemicals in his body it was a mission to separate one from the other. But given the manner of death, I’m now almost certain it wasn’t deliberately ingested.’

  ‘Are you going to change your report?’ I ask, wondering how the university will spin this new piece of information.

  ‘I’ll discuss it with Ikime, but, yes, my report will change. The rest is left to the authorities.’ Dr Okaro’s tone is resigned, like one who has seen too many cases like this. ‘Anyway, I hope it helps with whatever you two are doing. You have my number if you have more questions.’

  Dr Okaro nods at us, says goodbye and walks away.

  ‘He was murdered,’ Chika states the obvious.

  ‘Just as we suspected …’ My phone thrums. I click open the text message.

  ‘The bullets match’, the text reads and I guess it’s from Omereji. I show the message to Chika.

  ‘This is definitely a day of confirmations and revelations,’ Chika says.

  His tone when h
e says ‘revelations’ is dry and I suspect he is referring to Salome.

  ‘If the bullets match,’ he continues, ‘that means Godwin either fired that gun himself and caused those boys to be attacked or he stole it off them.’

  ‘Either way, we can’t trust anything Godwin told us. But we do know two things.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘There is a murderer on the loose.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘Until we can be sure Godwin’s death has nothing to do with this case, we are not safe.’

  A CURIOUS EXCHANGE

  I can’t work. Without a laptop, I can’t update the comprehensive report I’ve been putting together for Emeka, although the last draft is saved, safe in the cloud. If I can get a smart keyboard, I can sync it to my iPad and do some work. I still have no idea how to broach the subject of Godwin’s murder in the report, and I am ill prepared to evade the pursuit of a killer.

  A knock. When I open the door, I can’t help feeling like my thoughts summoned him because it is Chika looking as inscrutable as ever.

  ‘You wanted something?’ I ask as calmly as I can.

  ‘The boss is here,’ he answers, his eyes giving away nothing.

  ‘Emeka’s here? Now? Did you tell him –?’

  ‘Are you coming, sir?’ he interrupts.

  ‘Give me a moment to put something on.’

  He turns and leaves. I can’t shake the disconcerting feeling that I’ve been reported to the school principal. Emeka being here so soon after Chika questioned my judgement regarding Salome can’t be a coincidence.

  Emeka is nursing a cognac when I reach the corner of the huge lobby. His blazer is unbuttoned but his tie is perfectly knotted. Chika sits across him and from their silence, I suspect they were talking about me.

  ‘Emeka, what a surprise,’ I say with forced enthusiasm.

  ‘Philip.’ Emeka’s voice is cold. ‘Do have a seat, please.’

  I sit and turn to Chika. ‘Is something wrong?’

  He stands immediately and looks at Emeka. ‘I shall wait outside, sir.’

  ‘A drink?’ Emeka asks as soon as we are alone.

  ‘No. I’m fine. You haven’t answered my question.’

  ‘It seems you may be in danger of compromising yourself on this assignment.’

  ‘Is that what Chika told you?’

  ‘My sources tell me you’re staying here –’ He waves his hand around the lobby, ‘at the pleasure of the legal counsel for the people who murdered my son.’

  If Emeka didn’t look so serious, I would’ve derided his choice of words by telling him to expect the hotel bill as part of my expenses. Instead, I look at him, seeing how gaunt he is, and how his eyes are sunken and ringed with dark circles. Compassion moves me, so when I speak, my voice is soft and kind, but firm.

  ‘Is that how you see everything? For or against you?’

  ‘They killed my son …’

  ‘And I’m sorry about that, Emeka. But I’m an adult, not a schoolkid on a field trip. You can’t talk to me like you’re doing now.’

  ‘You’re losing sight of the goal here, Philip.’

  ‘The goal is to find out how and why your son was killed and not once in the past week have I thought of, or done anything else.’

  ‘That woman is defending the people who killed my son.’

  ‘Is her crime doing her job or being my friend?’

  ‘Both!’ Emeka spits out so loudly that there is a slight lull in the noises around us. I steal a glance around, and I can see some of the patrons deftly pretending they are not looking at us.

  ‘Look, Emeka,’ I lower my voice to placatory level. ‘I promise you I’ve done nothing to compromise this assignment. If Chika has been briefing you as accurately as he should have, he’ll tell you that we’ve made significant progress –’

  ‘Progress raising more questions than providing the answers I asked you to find,’ he says more calmly.

  ‘It takes time. In a case like this, the questions provide the leads.’

  Emeka sips the cognac, places the glass on the table and leans forward. ‘I don’t have the time for more questions. If everything goes according to Ms Briggs’ plan, another one of the accused will be let off by the next court hearing.’

  ‘I’m not the police, Emeka. I told you what I do from the very beginning. I can’t give you information to determine the guilt of –’

  ‘Then perhaps I should just pull the plug on this whole thing.’

  I check to see if he’s bluffing but I can’t read him. ‘You want to end the investigation?’

  Emeka shakes his head stubbornly. ‘There’s no point going on.’

  I take a deep breath. ‘Emeka, you and I both know I can’t face my father without the answers he convinced me to look for.’

  There is an uncomfortable pause. Emeka breaks our gaze by downing his cognac, and placing the glass on the table again.

  ‘Dr Taiwo, I have always been grateful to your father and his friends for all their support ever since my father died.’

  ‘So, you understand –’

  ‘Please, let me finish. My gratitude does not mean I condone what their generation created in our university system many years ago.’

  ‘You knew?’

  ‘Not at first. I thought they were all just close friends. And until my son went away to the university and he was killed because people suspected he was a cultist, it didn’t bother me.’

  ‘And when you knew?’

  ‘I cut them all off.’

  ‘You cut them off?’

  Emeka nods. ‘I did. If there was even a chance that cultism was part of the reason my son was killed, I couldn’t associate with my late father’s friends.’

  Now I understand why my father wanted me to take the case. He is trying to reconcile with Emeka.

  ‘So, you didn’t tell my father to convince me to take the case?’

  Emeka shakes his head. ‘Some time ago, at the country club, he approached me and told me you were back in the country and you might be able to help me with the investigation. I told him no thanks, but I did my own research, found out where you work, and the rest is where we are now.’

  So, how did my dad know that I had been approached or that I was not inclined to take the case? He has been quite protective since I came back from the States; keeping tabs on me, and even passing on Abubakar’s contacts to me when he thought it was taking me too long to find a job.

  Abubakar! Did he call my father? I can’t wait for a proper sit-down with my old man as soon as I get back to Lagos.

  ‘You understand why it’s important that I conclude this investigation.’ I keep my gaze steady on Emeka, stopping short of pleading. ‘My father is counting on me. Clearly, you and your family mean a lot to him. To them.’

  Emeka waves his hand impatiently. ‘How? You’re getting nowhere.’

  ‘I am sure Chika told you about Godwin –’

  ‘Another distraction,’ he cuts in sharply. ‘My heart goes out to his parents, but the boy was a ticking bomb. Everyone knew he would self-destruct sooner rather than later.’

  ‘That’s the point. I know for sure it’s not self-destruction.’

  ‘Even if the young man was killed, who else would be responsible but the same people who killed my son?’

  ‘What if you’re wrong? What if –’

  He cuts me off sharply. ‘There’s no what if and the only reason you’re considering any other possibility is because your judgement is compromised.’

  There is a tense silence as our gazes lock again. I know it’s time.

  ‘That’s rich –’ I sit back in the chair and speak casually, ‘coming from someone who has been less than honest with me himself.’

  ‘I don’t follow …’ he says with a frown.

  ‘Chika is not a driver, is he?’ I ask levelly.

  Emeka bends slightly to reach for his glass, sees it’s empty, leaves it on the table and leans back into the leather chair. When
he looks at me, his face is impassive, but he says nothing.

  ‘You’re not going to deny it?’

  ‘Deny what?’

  ‘That you sent Chika to spy on me?’

  Emeka crosses his legs. ‘Now you’re getting paranoid, Dr Taiwo. Chika was in the picture long before I thought of you for this assignment.’

  ‘As a driver?’

  ‘That folder Abubakar shared with you, who did you think put it together?’

  It all makes sense. Chika’s knowledge of so many aspects of the case. His quick thinking and proactive insights.

  ‘Why didn’t you just tell me from the beginning?’

  ‘Because I didn’t want you to be prejudiced. I wanted you to start afresh in case he missed anything.’

  ‘So, what is he? Some kind of detective?’

  Emeka uncrosses his legs, stands and looks down at me with a smile that is far from his eyes.

  ‘Dr Taiwo, I’ve waited for five hundred and seventy-six days for answers I am paying you to find. You’ll understand when I say my patience is wearing rather thin.’

  ‘You’re not answering my question,’ I say, also standing up.

  ‘A question that has no bearing on the matter at hand.’

  ‘Who is Chika Makuochi?’ I insist.

  ‘That’s one question I’m not paying you to ask. Keep your eye on the prize, Dr Taiwo. You have one week to give me something I can use.’

  ‘Use for what?’ I ask, but he is already walking away, elegant in what must be a bespoke suit

  I sit back down and signal to the waiter. When my double shot of whiskey comes, I knock it back. I’m about to order another when the wooziness hits me. I ask for the check and sign my room number. I stand, steady myself, then walk towards the elevator. As I pass by the large glass doors of the hotel’s impressive entrance, something catches my eye.

  There, in the parking lot, Emeka is talking to Chika, more animated than I’ve ever seen him and gesturing wildly with his hands. Chika’s back is towards me, but I see him shaking his head.