Adimchinma Ibe - Treachery in the Yard

Some blood trickled down my face, but not into my eyes.

Thompson yanked the door open, grabbed me by the collar, and roughly dragged me out of my car. I punched him in the gut and he doubled over in pain. Mr. Gorilla stopped me by shoving his pistol between my eyes. “Don’t do that again,” he snarled. Then he pushed me against the car and took my pistol from its holster. He looked inside my car. The glove compartment had popped open and the surveillance CDs had spilled out. He opened the door and grabbed them. Now they had them all-except for the one in my safety deposit box.

Thompson was gasping for breath, holding his stomach. He slowly stood, cursed me, and punched me in the stomach, to return the favor.

A cell phone rang, with a Star Wars theme. It was Thompson’s. He flipped it open. “Yes, sir. We have him and the recordings.” He gave the caller our location. Then we all waited. Me and the two guys who wanted to kill me.

I think the wait was harder on them.

After maybe twenty minutes, a black Ford Expedition rolled up. The same one Howell Osamu had stepped into. The driver stepped out. He held an Uzi. Getting out of the backseat was Barigha Duncan. He looked at me as I stood holding my stomach, leaning against the car, waiting. His two thugs stood on either side of me.

He must have seen the look on my face when I saw him step out of the SUV.

“You never reckoned to have to deal with me. You see, you were interfering with my plans. I set Okpara up to run for the statehouse. And you see, he must win.”

It felt like another blow to my stomach hearing Barigha speak. So Okpara was part of the Duncan gang. Barigha had even more sinister plans. If and when he succeeded, he would become untouchable. It certainly explained the killings.

“I suppose Olatunji called you?”

Barigha lit a cigar instead. The smoke he blew in my face was expensive. I acted as if I was still dazed. They all bought it.

“The CDs,” he demanded, still staring into my face but asking one of his men. Thompson handed him the disks. “Where are the original tapes?” Barigha demanded. He looked at me. “Never mind. We will find them eventually.” He looked around. It was quiet. No witnesses.

A cell phone rang, but no Star Wars theme this time. Barigha pulled a cell from his pocket. “Okpara. Hello.” He listened. “Yes, I am on my way. Something came up, but nothing I can’t handle. Don’t get yourself worked up. No. Okay. Bye.”

I looked at Barigha. “So Dr. Puene was telling the truth all along, and Okpara was lying. Thompson here was never working for Dr. Puene. He’s working for you. And Okpara. What will happen now?” I asked him.

“Unlike some, I have no problem with your being dead. In fact, by now I am rather looking forward to it. You will be found dead in your car, I think. A tragic accident.” He sounded like a judge reading my sentence. “You should have driven more carefully,” he said, and then laughed to himself.

“Why kill Femi?” I asked.

“You have your Chief of Police to thank for that.”

“Chief would not do that.”

“Sure he did. Femi saw Olatunji with me. So he was a threat to the whole plan.”

“So who tried to blow up Okpara?”

“My, you want to know a lot, don’t you. Is this a bad movie, where everything is summed up at the end? Okay, fine. Somehow Puene had discovered the bomb under his car. Angus was preparing another bomb meant for Puene’s house and it detonated prematurely, injuring him. But it all worked well for a diversion.”

“And all the other dead?”

He shrugged.

“What about Wike, Okpara’s personal assistant? What threat did he make?”

“His mistake was calling Okpara to say that he had spotted your car around his home. He couldn’t keep his cool. Okpara called me to say that Wike needed to be taken care of or he’d give our plan away. Wike was a smart man but he was soft.” He looked at Thompson and smiled. “Thompson, here, on the other hand, is a great kid. I’m proud of him. If he keeps up the good work, he’ll head to the top. But enough. I don’t have to tell you anything more, detective, except good-bye. I’ve had enough of you being protected.”

I was glad I had hidden a digital recorder on me. Now all I had to do was stay alive.

“Thompson, he’s all yours,” Barigha said. The driver passed his Uzi to Thompson, then he and Barigha turned to leave.

“So long, Tammy,” Barigha said.

“I have other copies. And you still don’t have the original.”

“Nice try.”

“Embarrassing for you when someone else sees it.”

“No one else will see it. And if they do, they’ll know who their friends should be.”

They all chuckled, and while they were expecting nothing from me, I hit Thompson in the jaw. As he fell back, I grabbed the Uzi.

Once I had the Uzi, it was not so tough. Nothing is that tough if you have an Uzi.

Mr. Gorilla and the driver reached for their pistols but the quick bursts from the Uzi were faster. They fell, as did Thompson. It was not hard. All I had to do was pull back on the trigger. Suddenly they were dead. Suddenly it was just Barigha Duncan and me. He reached into his jacket for his own gun but stopped as I leveled the Uzi at him. I could have shot him. I almost did. Instead, I gave him firsthand knowledge of what it felt like to be punched in the stomach.

He writhed on the ground for a while, surrounded by ex-employees who had recently suffered an abrupt termination. I took the CDs and threw them into the Explorer. Then, getting a pair of cuffs from my car, I hooked him up to the steering wheel of my damaged car. I took away his cell phone.

“Where are you going? You can’t leave me here like this,” he shouted at me.

“Sure I can. I’m borrowing your SUV. I have an appointment with Chief Olatunji. Don’t worry. I’ll tell someone you’re here.”

I got into his car and drove off, leaving him surrounded by death.

I made one call on the way. When I arrived, Stella was not there. Chief’s front office was deserted, but his door was open. From inside I heard him say, in that deep voice, “Come in, Tammy. I’ve been expecting you.”

I thought I heard a tinge of pride in his voice, pride that I had turned up alive. He had taught me well.

I walked into his office. He sat behind his desk, his hands folded over his stomach, looking at me.

We just stared at each other for a while. There was no need for talking.

Finally, I said, “I have the evidence, sir. The tapes showing you, Barigha, Okpara, and your young friend. I never got his name.”

“George Minima.”

“Who is he anyway?”

“Okpara’s campaign manager.”

“Hmm. I guess he’s probably going to jail with the rest of you.”

“You think so?” His eyes were unwavering. So were mine. “How does one million naira sound?” he asked.

“I don’t care about the easy life, Chief. You disappoint me. What do you think your antigang crew would think? And please don’t tell me that meeting with those criminals was part of your police work. No one would believe that.”

“Everyone cares about the easy life.”

I thought more. “Maybe. Okay, how does three million sound instead?”

“Two.”

“How about two and a half?”

He blinked, then frowned, realizing he could not buy me.

“You wanted me dead, Chief.”

“You have it all wrong. I never wanted you dead. That is why you are still alive. Port Harcourt depends on pretending, Tammy. I do a lot of good as chief of police. I turn my eye to the rest. Someone has to balance the interests of the citizens against organized crime and the oil companies. Tammy, I kept order in Port Harcourt.”