IN MY HEAD EPS6
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Precious had herself jerked off bed at exactly 8:10AM, woken by her alarm. She wondered what had gone down in the house. Another ding reached her again from the doorbell, then it occurred to her that someone was trying to infiltrate the house. There was no one in with her, and she was about fraying headache. She hated being driven out of sleep.
With a little turn in the hallway to reach the door, she walked past Tara's room and found the door unlocked.
She pushed in anxiety, the door. As she stood in the doorway, her thoughts curbed her, in an intellectual whisper. 'It might be a trap.'
She pulled the door closer to herself till the room was out of sight, and walked to the main door swiftly.
A man was standing at the doorway with a large, brown envelope. He had a long moustache, and a blue cap was on his head. He wore a blue T-shirt, and a cartoon-coloured chinos trouser. His blue shirt had the inscription, 'BAMS LOGISTICS,' on it.
"From Mr. Afolabi." He said, handling over the files.
"Thanks." Precious said, tucking wandering strands of hair behind her ear. She collected the delivery note from the man and signed.
"Attachment to delivery?" She asked, taking her eye off the sheet. She had one part left to sign, and she needed answers, so she could confidently proceed.
"Confidential." The man said after a nod.
He got his note back and gazed through; it was good and clean. He left, having no issues using the motorcycle, he had parked outside the flat.
Precious got back into the house. While she walked, she undressed to use the shower. Then, she heard another ding that swept quickly across the room, and rushed back to the living room in a towel. After she had twitched the curtain to see who it was, she shook her head. 'Another delivery man!' She thought. This one was a bit younger, and gave her enough reason to put something better on.
She quickly wore the long and big T-shirt on the couch, and shifted the towel down, from her chest to her waist.
"For Tara. She stays here?" The delivery guy began, after he had greeted.
"Yes." Precious replied. She was a bit surprised.
"Let me see her. It's directly for her."
"I am her elder sister and she is away for tutorials. I will leave it for her in the room, once I am leaving the house."
"OK." The delivery guy swallowed, loudly.
"Sign here, and here."
Precious collected the note, and dressed it with her signature.
"From who?" Precious asked. The delivery man gave her a dry grin; she understood what it meant.
Precious collected the sealed box and carried it in, in a hurry, and dropped it on the centre table in the living room. After twenty minutes, she was back with just a towel on again. She moved close to the door and pulled on the lock, before slipping out of her towel, and moving across the room freely.
Precious was with the brush, when she squared a gaze at the box delivered to her sister again. She dropped the brush, and picked up the box. The struggle to open it began immediately.
She held down the lower part of the box and wrenched it open. Her jaw dropped at the sight of the gold chain, and the glowing, gold pendant.
"No way!"
That came off in a scream. She soon stomped towards Tara's room, with a mixed bowl of feelings.
No one had to tell her a lot had been going on. Now, she had to break into her siblings' privacy, to get them saved. She wondered who could have mailed a 17 year old girl, a gold chain. It didn't end there. She kept battling with thoughts, as she checked through Tara's wardrobe, books and clothes, and found nothing.
She moved across the room at the sight of her drawer, underneath a standing mirror.
Precious' heart seized, like she had been hit by a block of ice, which shattered emotionally into random pieces.
She looked again in doubt, before she began to raise out of the drawer, packs of condoms, used and unused. She knew what it was about. Tara had never thought she could break into her room; that was a rigid fact. The room had been mistakenly left unlocked that morning.
She did more digging with the little time she had, and found a freshly used Pregnancy Test Strip, that read positive.
She felt a strong blow in her head, as she gazed in disbelief. Two minutes had not passed when she walked out of the living room, struggling to get her legs into a pair of tight jeans, while she wore a blue turtleneck top, with her car keys dangling in her hands. She had no second thoughts.
'Get to the tutorial and kill Tara,' was all she could think of.
There could be something more menacing than a feeling that you have just committed murder. This was how Luta felt at the moment. His face cockled into a distinct frown, as he reached the old laboratory, meant for research in his ex's place of work.
The thought of the chemicals, microscopes, computers and machineries, made him sick.
He never would have believed, he could be away from his work this long.
Tears gathered in his eyes, as he watched lab attendants move from office to office in white lab coats. He could recognize a few of them, but no one could have recognized him. The face cap and the shirt he wore, made him look like a total stranger.
His heartbeat raced, as he consulted his wristwatch.
The register was the plan. He knew about the section which hosted the psychiatrist doctors in a unit, down the facility, and had to pull a call through, to see if he could get help. He needed someone else to take a look at what he had in his head.
He stood in the crowded reception for about an hour. The queue wasn't moving, and his heartbeat was playing the opposite. He looked out desperately, to see if he could find someone he knew, but no face was looking familiar. Thirty minutes later, the doctor he could recognize in his dream, Dr. Vicker Tchacha, came. He was a bespectacled Ghanian psychiatrist, who had been working in the hospital for decades now; old, with touches of gray hair all over his head. He walked like he would break any moment, as he moved away from the reception into the lobby.
Luta stepped off line, and approached the doctor in the lobby.
"Hey, Luta!" The doctor extended his hand for a shake.
"I am good, sir." Luta replied, as the doctor consulted his wristwatch.
"I heard you were laid off..."
"Yes, sir."
"Because of yansh?"
Luta forced a smile.
"I heard a girl caused you all the trouble. Must you always act like my patients?" The doctor continued.
Luta wished he could just break down, and tell the old doctor how he felt. His head was being messed with at the moment, and so were his hands.
Luta stood in the large elevator, as it jerked up the facility. His hands vibrating, as he ran out of patience.
'I might just do something terrible again. I might just run out of control again.' Those were the very words that dominated his thoughts.
Reports reached the District Police Headquarters earlier that morning. With the immenseness it came with, it would have been reported by dawn.
Daniel, an inspector in his mid-thirties, and Ayo, an investigator in his late thirties, were the only two fit to work on the case.
All they got was from an earwitness, who reported to have heard sounds and screams, from the flat next to his. He was a short Hausa guy, slim with a long face and had a weak accent. He spoke so much in a hurry, that he was asked to give an explanation for the seventh time, before they could get him well.
Daniel filed the report and knew outrightly, that it was murder or kidnapping. It couldn't be anything more or less.
The District Police Officer couldn't have anyone else check the case up, so he got Ayo out of his leave, to help Daniel out.
Ayo came to work that evening, after he had been called off leave.
It was a big street and everyone there would be aghast. They needed things to get uncovered faster, and give back to the community, the peace warranted.
Ayo drove in before 12PM, and more reports had come in, filed.
He was fortunate to have met the building superintendent, right after he had gotten his badge, gun and warrant.
"I couldn't even sleep all through the night. My wife... My kids... We all had to peer through the window frequently." The man panicked, as he explained. Sweat broke from his forehead, narrowing down his neck, and settling on the silver neck chain he had on.
"So, you own the house?" Ayo asked, tapping the man on his shoulder.
"Dust!" Ayo said.
The man looked down and smiled.
"About the flats... How many flats are in the compound? Did you actually build it all or you are the...?"
"Caretaker!" The man helped him.
"So, tell me... What kind of noise?"
"I can't describe. Things were being broken... I suspect a kind of struggle."
"Struggleeeeee." Ayo stretched.
The man took in a deep breath, and frowned.
"It's murder, you know?" Ayo threw the bolt around the question, and watched the climax pull up in the man.
"Yes!!!"
"What did you notice? Who did you see with her the night before?"
The man looked away, whisking as he gathered facts in thought.
"Emmm... No one, really... I can't say... But, I think I spotted a guy with a thick, long Afro cut. He is tall... I couldn't spot much... He was the only one who came around late last night."
"What's more to his features? Name? Did you get a hold of that?"
"Not at all" The man shook his head.
"Fine!" Ayo said. He extended his hands to take the man's hand, and gave him a signal that the discussion was over.
"I will give you a call once I need any information... And, you will be seeing me around soon."
"Thank you." The man said, as he rose off the chair.
Ayo reached for his suit, and picked it up in despair. He walked out of his small office and met Daniel waiting outside.
They exchanged smiles and gaze, before taking each other's hands.
They moved side by side across the lobby, till they were in the reception. Soon, they were in the lot and hit their way out of the compound.
"To where now? Catch a drink before we start work?" Daniel asked.
"No!" Ayo replied with a long face, as he rocked the wheels softly.
"We need to check the crime scene, so we can pull points to trace the murderer, or give full analysis about the incident." Ayo explained.
Daniel stared at the side mirror, with his lips twisted to the side.
"It's a murder case, and we have to find the killer." Ayo said again, dryly.
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©Godwin Okhuoya
IMAGE SOURCE: PIXABAY