The Moment of Truth

Chapter 10

At that same moment, Inspectors Fabrice, Gladys and Timothy were seated at Timothy’s desk to analyze the Pentecostal Church Pastor’s case.
     Juliet had given them the name, phone number and address of one of Amanda’s close friends – FuaRelindis who was a third-year student at the Higher Institute of Business Management and Technology (HIBMAT) Buea. When Gladys called her and said the police needed her help in solving the murder of her friend, she had sounded really scared, told the Gladys she had nothing to say and ended the call.
     Gladys followed the address Juliet had given them and got to the house Relindis was supposedly staying. When she got there, she was informed by a neighbour that Relindis relocated the previous day, stressing the fact that she was in quite a hurry.
Gladys thenrealized that Relindiswas definitely hiding something, though she just couldn’t quite place her finger on it. She was painfully aware that they needed to know as much about Amanda as they could lay hands on if they ever hoped to apprehend her killer.
     So she went back to Juliet and requested the name of any other friend of Amanda’s; but all she had was a name with no phone number or address.
     As they were now working on the case, the emergency telephone rang.
     ‘O God!’ Timothy groaned. ‘This is the second time in ages that that line is ringing. Could things get any worse?’
     ‘I got it,’ Fabrice said, shuffling to his feet.
     ‘This is the police,’ he spoke into the receiver.
     What he heard on the other end of the line was the voice of a young man trying to suppress his shock. ‘This is Anthony Naseri calling from a hostel called Infinity Hostel halfway along the tarred Malingo Street.’
     ‘Yes, Mr. Naseri,’ Fabrice said patiently. ‘What is your emergency?’
     ‘I… I think my girlfriend was strangled to death in her room. I just found her now.’
     Fabrice’s heart missed a beat as he listened. He told the caller to stay put and make sure no one entered the room, before saying the police would be there shortly and then ended the call.
     Timothy stared in horror as Fabrice walked up to them.
     ‘What is it this time?’ Gladys asked.
     ‘There’s been yet another murder, and the victim is a female who supposedly died by strangulation as reported. I got it.’ He grabbed his cell phone and hurried out of the office.
***
On his way to Infinity Mansion, Fabrice called the Buea District Hospital to send an ambulance to Malingo Street. He was seated at the back of the Police vehicle with two Constables at the front, one of whom was driving.
     Halfway along the tarred Malingo Street, they came across the public tap to the left of the road and the Constable behind the steering wheel negotiated a bend into the stony side street between the public tap and an imposing three-storey building called THE EXPLORER.
     The people who were at the public tap to fetch some water looked at the police vehicle as it passed them by and pulled over nearby, wondering why the police was there.
     Just as the policemen alighted from the vehicle, they were met by a young man whom Fabrice guessed was in his early thirties. His face was flushed with pain and shock which he tried hard to conceal. He was fair with a well-toned body which was outlined by his tight-fitting outfit: a white woolen sweater that swallowed the whole of his neck over a blue pair of jean trousers and a pair of trainers.
     ‘Mr. Naseri, I presume?’ Fabrice said as they shook hands.
    ‘Yes, sir,’ Tony said. ‘Right this way.’
     He led them up the side street toward the Back of THE EXPLORER.  They passed the campus of the Higher Institute of Professional Studies (HIPS) Buea and a small provision store to their left before getting to yet another massive building. It was as high as THE EXPLORER, but not as wide. It was covered with white tiles all round with two parallel horizontal stripes of black tiles running just below the second and third storeys. On the front and sides of the building, its name, INFINITY HOSTEL was emblazoned in carved black tiles. It was a student hostel.
    When they got there, they saw that a crowd had gathered at the door of the first room on the ground floor at the back of the building. Most of them were the students who were staying at the hostel – mostly girls - while the others were neighbours from around. They stood on the verandah peering into the house without entering. Those at the back craned their necks to see better, and they were all whispering to each other, wondering who could have done such a horrible thing.
     ‘That’s her room,’ Tony said, pointing at the door where the crowd had gathered.
     ‘I hope no one has entered the room?’ Fabrice said as they walked up to the room, fearing the neighbours might have entered the room and tampered with the evidence therein.
‘I personally made sure no one did, as you requested over the phone,’ Tony replied, much to Fabrice’s relief.
     When they reached the verandah, the crowd quickly made way for them, whispering to each other even more intensely than before.
     They entered the room and the policemen looked carefully round the room which looked like it had just been attacked by a ferocious whirlwind. The floor was littered with the shards of a broken mirror, books strewn all round and a chair which seemed to have been flung at someone, for it was lying across the room from the study table.
     The study table itself was covered with books scattered haphazardly, some of which had been thrown to the floor. A pillow sat atop the mess on the table with two stuffed animals underneath the table. There were marks of dried blood on the feet of the table and on the tiled floor beneath it.
     The coffee table was toppled and the couch was at an unusual angle in the middle of the room.
     Surprisingly, the plasma TV on a small cupboard at one end of the room seemed to have survived unscathed.
     Sprawled on the bed was the body of a fair young lady whom Fabrice guessed was probably in her mid-twenties. She was dressed in a skintight, short blue dress. There was makeup on her face, and it seemed she had been on her way out just before someone walked in and killed her. There was a wound just above her left eye and the blood there had clotted. She was foaming in the mouth, and the foam was dripping from her mouth onto the crumpled sheets of the bed which were bloodstained all over, especially around where her head was.
     Tony looked even more haggard when he saw the body.
     ‘What a mess,’ Fabrice said. ‘What on earth happened in here?’
  ‘I just don’t know. The lady you are looking at is… was my girlfriend, Mubah Blandine,’ Tony said as Fabrice stooped near the body to examine it closely while one of the Police Constables scribbled notes into his jotter. ‘This is how I met her about an hour ago. She worked at NFC Bank while pursuing her MBA program in Banking and Finance in the University of Buea.’
     ‘There are dark marks on her neck,’ Fabrice said without looking up from the body which he dared not touch, lest he destroyed crime scene evidence. ‘Wait, I see a lot of dried blood under her fingernails. It seemed she was scratching at her assailant while being strangulated. She probably died last night; the body looks stiff.’
     The others came to see for themselves and the Constable with the jotter scribbled more notes furiously while the other one took snapshots of the body with the digital camera he had with him before turning to take more photographs of the room.
     When they stood erect, Fabrice asked Tony, ‘Where do you live?’
     ‘I live and work in Limbe, and I come to see her once in a while. I called yesterday morning to tell her I would be coming over today; and she said she would be expecting me.
‘When I called this morning to tell her I was on my way, she did not answer the phone. When I got here, the door was bound but not shut. Upon entering, I found everything just as it is now. I then called on the neighbours before calling the police.’
‘Someone was definitely here last night, and had a fight with her before strangling her to death on the bed. From the looks of it, she died last night. The medical examiner should be able to give us the time of death when she gets here.Where is her phone?’
     Tony frowned even deeper as he looked round the messed up room. ‘I don’t know. It did not even occur to me to find it when I got here.’
     He then rounded the couch on and scattered the mess on the table before retrieving a white SAMSUNG GALAXY S5. ‘Here it is.’ He handed it to Fabrice.
     Fabrice pressed the power button at the side of the phone and watched the screen come to life. He then checked the call logs.
    ‘This is interesting,’ he said as he looked at Tony who came to see for himself. ‘I see the call you made yesterday morning and your missed calls this morning. But look: just yesterday evening she received a phone call from a contact by name Pichichi, followed by two missed calls by the same person. This was probably just before she was murdered. Do you know who Pichichi is?’
     Tony’s brows furrowed as he tried to recall, before saying, ‘No, I don’t.’
     ‘Did Blandine live here alone?’
     ‘No, she lived with a friend, Lizette, who is presently with her family in Ekona.’
     Just then they heard the sound of a vehicle pulling over just outside and went out to see Dr. Ekweni Sharon – the medical examiner (ME) of the Buea District Hospital - approach them from the ambulance with two assistants who carried a stretcher with gloved hands. The ME was remarkably dressed in a gray suit over a white shirt.
     She stopped to talk with the men outside while her assistants went in to get the body.
     ‘This is the fourth murder in a few months, Inspector,’ she addressed Fabrice without preamble. ‘What is this town turning into?’
     ‘We are still to find out, doctor. This one died by strangulation.’
     ‘Huh?’ her eyebrows rose.
     ‘Yes,’ Fabrice said. ‘This is Tony, the victim’s boyfriend.’
The ME merely gave Tony an imperceptible nod before returning her gaze to Fabrice. ‘This just gets nastier than the day, doesn’t it? Do you think it is somehow related to the murdered pastors?’
     ‘I don’t know yet.’
     Just then the assistants emerged from the room with the body on the stretcher. The ME turned pale and her face seemed drained of colour as she looked at the body. She raised her right hand to her mouth and said, ‘This is disgusting!’
     ‘Very disgusting,’ Fabrice chimed in.
     Regaining her posture, the ME said, ‘We will examine it and send the report to the station as soon as possible.’
     Fabrice nodded with a smile as she shook his hand and Tony’s before turning toward the ambulance. It slowly reversed before disappearing round a bend.
     Fabrice then turned to the neighbours who were still there and asked, ‘Did any of you notice anyone enter Blandine’s room last night?’
     A fat girl dressed in a white T-shirt over a pink pair of shorts came forward and said in an unsteady voice, ‘I was passing by last night when I heard voices from inside: hers and that of a man. It sounded like they were quarrelling. I could neither recognize the male voice nor recall seeing him enter or leave. I just went my way.’
     Tony looked even more disturbed when he heard this. 
     Fabrice felt his heart miss a beat. So close to the killer, he thought. Seeing he could not get any other useful piece of information from her, he thanked her, then turned to Tony and said, ‘You have to follow us to the station to make a statement.’
     Tony nodded weakly and followed them down to the car.
***
At the station, Fabrice entered the Inspector’s office with Tony, holding the camera with which snapshots of the body had been taken. As they got in, he said, ‘This is Tony, the man who called to report the murder of his girlfriend.’
Gladys, Timothy and Dauda, who were working at their desks, looked up at them.
     Fabrice motioned Tony to take the seat in front of his desk while he himself got seated and kept the camera on the desk.
     He then fished out a blank sheet of paper from among the books and files on his desk and wrote something down on it before blinking quickly and then fetched the file of the Pentecostal Church Pastors’ case which he opened before him. He studied the documents and photos within the file before looking up calmly at Tony and said, ‘Listen, Tony. I think your girlfriend’s death is related to her involvement with one of the recently murdered pastors.’
    ‘What!’ Tony exclaimed as Gladys and Timothy rushed to Fabrice’s desk like ants drawn to a cube of sugar somewhere. ‘What are you talking about?’
     Fabrice handed him one of the photos of the Rev. Ayuk Peter in bed with Blandine to see for himself while the other Inspectors scrutinized the photos in the camera before comparing them with the others on the desk.
     ‘This is unbelievable.’ Timothy whispered as he and Gladys saw that the faces were indeed those of the same young lady – Blandine!
     Tony’s hands shook as he saw his girlfriend looking unabashed from the photograph she had taken of herself and the late pastor making love in bed. ‘This is unbelievable,’ he said as beads of sweat formed on his forehead. Looking at the Inspectors, he said, ‘This cannot be. Blandine would never…’ His voice trailed off as he looked at the photo again to be sure of what he was seeing.
     Fabrice said, ‘We think someone hired her to sleep with that pastor and take these photos. When she learned he was murdered, she probably got scared and the killer decided to cut that loose end by killing her last night, though it is a little unlike him. So far, he has been killing his victims with a gun. Like they say, dead men tell no tales. Now, we need you to tell us everything you can about her that can help us find this killer and bring him to justice.’
     ‘You think it is a he?’ Tony asked. He looked like he was going to cry anytime.
     ‘It is just an assumption,’ Fabrice replied. ‘For how long have you and Blandine been together?’
     ‘Three years.’
     ‘Ok,’ Timothy said as Fabrice took down more notes. ‘Did she like clubbing?’
     Tony looked embarrassed by the directness of the question. However, he said, 'We went clubbing every night when I came to see her, but…’ He stopped and frowned as something occurred to him. ‘She has been into cigarettes and booze lately. She got real drunk whenever we went to the club, and whenever I met her she was smoking. There’s always a packet of cigarettes in her room.’
     ‘When did she start smoking and drinking?’ Gladys asked.
     ‘Well,’ Tony said as he leaned back on his seat, ‘She usually smoked a few cigarettes once in a while – I got her into it – and she always drank responsibly whenever we went clubbing. But of recent, she had been into smoking and drinking in a way that got me worked up. When I asked what the matter was, she just said she couldn’t help it.’
     ‘Around what time did she start becoming so obsessed with drinking and smoking?’ Fabrice asked.
     ‘Um, I think around December last year.’
     Fabrice looked up from his notes and rubbed his tired eyes. It seemed he was barely able to keep himself awake. He leaned back on his seat and said, ‘I think her recent obsession with smoking and drinking was her way of drowning her fright after learning of the pastor’s death. So did you two go to any club in particular?’
     ‘Are you kidding? We partied like crazies; going every time to the club we heard was booming the most. That means almost every club on Buea: Las Vegas, Ebony, Footprint… you name it. And oh, we usually partied in Limbe as well when she came over to see me. But that was just a few times.’
     ‘Did you… did you see her talking with any stranger while you two were at the club?’
     ‘Well, it is a club, full of people. Anyone could talk to anyone. We met with some friends there; and – trust me – Blandine was a talkative. But I did not notice her talking with any stranger that caught my attention.’
     Gladys asked, ‘Can you give us the names of any of her close friends? One of them could probably know about her deal with the killer.’
     ‘Listen, if Blandine could not confide in me about such a shocking issue, I don’t think any of her friends will tell you anything.’
     Very true, the Inspectors thought; but Gladys said, ‘We believe they may be potential targets of the killer; so I think they would be very cooperative if they hope to keep their heads on their necks.’
     After a brief hesitation, Tony said, ‘The closest friend of Blandine’s I know of is a girl called Eposi. She is a hotel receptionist at Mermoz Hotel, and lives atBokwaongo.’
     ‘Can we have her number?’ Timothy asked.
     Tony recited the number and Fabrice wrote it down.
     Fabrice then asked Tony, ‘And then there’s that roommate of hers – Lizette. Do you have her number?’
     ‘Yes.’
     Tony gave them her number alongside his own when they said they may need to get back to him for further questioning.
They thanked him for his cooperation before letting him go.
     After Tony left, Timothy said, ‘This case gets more complicated by the day.’
     ‘Tell me about it,’ Gladys said. ‘What bothers me is the change of pattern with the recent murder. The killer kills his victims with a gun. In Blandine’s case, however, he had a fight with her before strangling her to death. Is it that he did not go to her place with the gun or what?’
     Fabrice rubbed his eyes again and leaned on his seat before saying, ‘Yes, that is quite unlike him. Maybe she said something that annoyed him, and he decided to make her death slower and more painful. Either way, we still have to follow the leads we have and see what we can come up with.’
    He brandishedBlandine’s phone and told them about Pichichi.
     ‘That’s a good lead,’ Timothy said as he fetched his phone. ‘Let me dial his number.’
     He punched the digits of Pichichi’s phone number on his phone and dialed it. After a while, he dropped his phone with a frown, saying, ‘The phone is switched off.’
     ‘We’ll keep trying,’ Gladys said.
     ‘I will go dial Lizette’s number and talk with her,’ Timothy said as he stood to return to his desk.
     After Timothy left, Gladys peered down at Fabrice and said, ‘Tell me when last you had a good night’s sleep.’
     ‘I’m fine,’ he said, though he looked the opposite.
     ‘You should go home and get some rest,’ she said. ‘The Commissioner will understand; we have been working our heads off on this case.’
     ‘How do you expect me to sleep when there is a killer out there targeting men of God and young ladies who got themselves involved in his sadistic plan, and who has obviously decided to start playing it rough with his victims?’
     Gladys knew there was no talking Fabrice to getting some sleep when he was on the trail of a killer; but it was worth trying.
***
News of the death of Mubah Blandine spread with the speed of light to the ends of Buea and its environs; and when the media got hold of it the following day, it was the headline nationwide.
     No one understood what the erstwhile peaceful town of Buea was turning into overnight. Despite the heightened security measures set in place by the appropriate authorities, no one could sleep with both eyes closed. A slight sound on the door during the night sent the residents of that house shivering with dread, fearing the killer was on their doorstep.
     People even began having nightmares in which they saw a strange man pointing a gun at them with a sadistic smile etched on his half-concealed face. And just before he pulled the trigger, they would wake from sleep with a start. The situation became so worse that people had to go to bed with a cutlass or other weapons by their bed just in case anything went wrong overnight.