Inside the mildly cold office, Bob was having Hollandia. His phone’s ring annoyed him. He hated interruptions while he ate. This was the only time he was free of worry, his only leisure moment. He picked the receiver and spoke.
“Who's this?”
“Bob? Is that you?” Sobbing in the background, familiar voice. “I need your help!”
Bob was about to ask who this was, he held himself. The police man in him figured out that it's going to be hard to keep her holding on the line for long unless you hold the conversation. If actually, she's in some deadly situation.
“Calm down. Where are you?” Bob's gentle voice settled calm on Olamide's quivering shoulders. She demanded that Bob bring an ambulance.
“My friend, he's been injured pretty badly. I think he might not make it.” She told the detective, with an airily fain
The car came to a stop in front of the big gate and Lexington came out, carrying grocery bags with "Hallmark" written on them. He hummed a tune as he opened the small gate with one hand. He was on Nike shorts, shirt, cap, and air max. Funke had called him in the middle of a workout to get some food items for dinner which he had rushed to get. He took every chance he could get to look at her.He entered their little yet airy compound that had an overview of the whole area from the upstairs balcony. He took slow strides, allowing the post-workout blaze kick in, when his ears picked up a rustling coming from the bush nearby.He stopped in his tracks, and turned owl-like, to the direction of the noise.Something was definitely there!The groceries fell to the ground. Lex stealthily moved closer to the well gardened bush and as he got closer, a huge frame stood, towering over him.The
Water trickling, dust absorbing the wind, and forming an image, though white as snow, faceless and void, sitting on edge of Existence, the image turned into Lex.He was clad in white, neat, groomed, and shaven. A voice made his ears twitch and his eyelids part. He woke up searching for the voice, when he got up, he staggered. His balance regained, he went in search of the voice. He got to an end and found out the voice called from the opposite direction of the white environment. There seems to be no exit.Is this an Asylum? He asked himself.Lexington.He searched for the voice. Nowhere.Lexington, why do you ignore my call?Huh? The next thing was a transition, with a much clearer voice. It called on to him like a missing child whose mother called out to them.“Lex?” A voice in the back
Lexington sat Bob down at a table outside his beach house and gave him a glass of wine.Bob Andrews looked at the pleasant wooden house. A product of mordern achitechture. "I tried calling your house in Benin," he said. "Nobody answered. It seem to be avoiding my calls.""I don't want your calls, Bob. To be frank with you I never wanted this visit. But you're here, so let's get this over with. Just don't show pictures. If you brought any pictures, leave them in the briefcase - Funke and Ayo will be back soon.""Is that right? How much do you know about it?""About what?""The Ayodeles."I knew it. Lex thought, always so straightfoward. Lex hated Bob for this. Relentless Bob."What was in The Punch and Vanguard." Lex said. "Two noble families killed in their homes, weeks apart. Ikeja and Ikoyi respectively. Thier killings were in a similar style. Probably the s
LAGOS, IKEJA.Lex drove his car slowly past the house where the Ayodeles family had once lived, and died.The small gate was left ajar, and the LSPD seal blocked the path.He parked his car three blocks away and started back through the dark, quiet night, carrying the LSPD (The Lagos State Police Department) Detectives' Evidence Report in his hand.Lex wanted to come alone. Being with someone else in the crime scene would distract him - that was the reason he gave Bob. But he had other personal reason: Lex was not sure how he would behave, he didn't want someone watching over him, watching his every move.Lex had been to the morgue. At LSUTH. He had been alright seeing the bodies. And the markings on them.The Ayodeles' mansion was situated directly in front of the main road for Abiodun Shobanjo cresent, opposite Fela Shrine.Lex stood in front of the house. The small gate ajar, he stood
1988.Little Lex was just a boy of 13. But he didn't look it. He was way too big for his age, and acted accordingly.His mother was a busy woman. She was always travelling. Leaving Lex alone in the house with enough money to take care of his little needs. Lex was never bothered but he was a social outcast. An introvert.It was during that moment he discovered his father's journals.He was on the verge of commiting suicide, as he was about to kick the chair that held his weight, something called him. It whispered to his little ears. Soft and comforting, it called Lex.Lex followed this voice, it seem to come from his late's dad's room. The room his mother warned that he should never enter. As he turned the handle, nothing happened. It was locked.Lex took a deep breathe, and shouldered the weak door off its hinges. The soothing voice can be heard louder now.It's coming from the bed-drawe
Lagos State Police Department Building, Agidingbi, Ikeja, Lagos.Lex walked into the LSPD building tired, exhausted. He needed a bath. His body oozed of sweat."Welcome. I've gotten all the information I could get on the Late Ayodele," Bob was already talking before he got to where Lex stood. He too smelt like he hasn't taken a bath.God. Lex held his breath, and I thought I reeked."Turns out," Bob continued. "Ayodele's got a criminal record, says our secret archives. He was arrested for robbery at age 19, caught with cocaine by 25, but he later gave his life to Christ and went back to school and completed his higher education. Bagging a degree and masters with honours from the University of Ibadan and University of Lagos respectively."That's not the information I need."You said he turned a new leaf, right? - The church. Tell me about his connection with the church."Lex didn't seem t
Clover Milverton, Ikoyi.Driving through the streets of Ikoyi, the interlocked roads and the beautiful trees by the sidewalks screaming with colourful produce. Kyosks were everywhere, making Lex wonder if the Lagos government never pass these places. This was the rich man's town, he thought, they ought to see these ugly contraptions and they out to be destroyed.A sudden breeze of self-disgust hit him. What am I thinking? How can I be this heartless? People live from the services of these little establishments! When did I become to ruthless?Shaking his head, Lex drove on. When he got to the house, he looked through his passenger window.The house cound not be seen from the outside. Beautiful trees and flowers blocked the main house, like other personal houses in Ikoyi.This time, Lex parked directly opposite the house. Surveying the building, his jaw dropped by what he saw.The hou
Faculty Of Criminology, University Of Benin, Ugbowo, Benin City.Sitting on a pavement, legs improvised as a table for his laptop, Byron typed away. On his laptop's screen showed the gory pictures of the Ayodele's bodies after autopsy. What Byron had discovered was breathtaking. Literally. It had taken his breath away.Byron was sending an e-mail to someone who he thinks he can help. The one who's in-charge of the investigation, being a master of psychology himself, Byron loved a good mystery. And from the expression on his face, this appeared to give him mysterigasm. A term he made up.Clad in a white long sleeve that was damp with sweat, fitted jean trousers and an Adidas palm to match his Student look, Byron was a first-class undergraduate who was sadly a social outcast. The funny thing was that he didn't care. Friends were distracting, they'd make you lose sight of your goals, he always said."Done." Byron said