The Moment of Truth

Chapter 14

Fabrice woke the next morning to the buzzing of his cell phone. He rolled over in bed, surprised to see that the sun had already risen.
How long have I been asleep? he wondered, clearly unaccustomed to having a good night’s rest withoutany fit of insomnia. He tried to recall the events of the previous night, but his thoughts were interrupted by the persistent buzzing of his cell phone. Cursing under his breath, he reached out for his phone on the bedside chest of drawers, looked and saw that it was Gladys calling.
     He answered it.‘Hello, Gladys.’
     ‘Hi. Good morning.’
     ‘Good morning. How are you doing?’
     ‘I’m fine. Where on earth are you?’
     Stealing a glance at his Timex, he frowned. Nine o’clock! He was usually at the station by half past seven.
     ‘Sorry, I overslept. I took your advice last night and had a good night’s rest.’
     ‘That’s good. Well, you had better get here as soon as possible. Pichichi has struck again, only this time in another way.’
     Fabrice felt goose bumps on his arms. Could a week pass without someone turning up dead these days?
     ‘What happened?’
     ‘Get your sorry self here as soon as possible,’ he heard her say before the line went dead.
     He looked at the phone, surprised that she had actually hung up. But it was nothing new. This was just one of her wicked ways of annoying him whenever she lost an argument with him or just felt like doing so.
     At one time she had seized his car key and would not return it until he told her something he was withholding from her. She stashed the key into her handbag and walked to her desk, saying it was up to him to either say what she wanted to hear or prepare to walk home that day.
     He countered by saying he would just take a taxi home. Then she said she hoped he would keep doing that till he spilled out what she wanted to hear.
     And so he gave up and told her what she wanted to hear. She got his car key out and handed it to him like some award.
     ‘You are one wicked woman, Gladys,’ he said.
     ‘I know, right,’ she replied with a cunning smile.
***
Fabrice entered the Inspectors’ office at the police station an hour later and saw that only Gladys and Timothy were in there. Gladys was seated on the chair across Timothy’s desk, and they were both looking at something on the desk.
     They looked up as he walked up to them, frowning at Gladys.
     ‘Don’t tell me you had a bad night,’ Timothy asked, looking puzzled as he feared Fabrice had not nailed Pichichi down the previous night as promised.
     ‘Thanks for the concern, Tim,’ Fabrice said as he joined them at the desk with his own seat. He had completely forgotten about his promise. Looking down, he saw that they were looking at four pictures taken by a young lady in bed with a man old enough to be her father. There was a tattoo in the cleft of her breasts. ‘What have we got here?’
     Timothy said, ‘The Apostolic Church Pastor you now see in this photos – the Rev. Okah Simon Betari, aged forty-three – was found dead this morning in his bedroom by his wife who lost no time to call us.
     ‘When we got there, we found him lying on the floor with a bloodstained razor blade next to his slit left wrist surrounded by a pool of blood. The wife told us he started acting strangely since Friday last week. She said he had looked very depressed, rarely ate, spent long hours alone and stayed up late parading the room like a lunatic. She also said she enquired what was wrong with him, but he would not tell.’
     Gladys chimed in, ‘So we figured Pichichigot to him. We ransacked the bedroom and found in the bottom drawer of the bedside table a brown envelope containing these pictures.’
     Timothy took up the narration, ‘What’s most interesting is that the pastor neither succumbed to the killer’s demands nor confessed to his congregation during yesterday’s service - as his wife told us – though, she said, she noticed his tension and unease throughout the service. So our guess is that fearing what Pichichi would do to him for failing to follow his instructions, the pastor decided to take matters into his own hands… literally.’
     ‘Sounds like he had quite a reputation to protect,’ Fabrice said. ‘So did the wife see anyone deliver the envelope?’
     ‘No,’ Gladys said. ‘And no, she had no idea he was cheating on her either; she was flabbergasted when she saw the pictures.’
     ‘So how did it go last night?’ Timothy asked, hoping it all went well.
     Gladys looked puzzled, since for all she knew, Fabrice was taking a very long rest the previous night.
‘I made progress,’ Fabrice said, ‘though I did not see Pichichi there last night.’
     ‘What!’ Gladys was appalled. ‘I thought…’
     ‘Sorry, Gladys; I was at Las Vegas last night, following a lead Tim had given me on Pichichi…But I did have a good night’s rest, mind you. Anyways, I met a stripper – Melanie – who is friends with one of the strippers Pichichi hired – Jennifer. She knew no more than what we already know.’
     Timothy felt his high spirits fall. ‘Not even how many strippers were involved?’
     ‘Wait,’ Gladys said. ‘How did you get her to talk? I doubt you walked in there with your uniform and threatened to arrest her.’
     Fabrice just gave her a wry smile before proceeding, ‘Anyways, I told her I needed to see Jennifer, saying her life may be in danger.’
     Timothy nearly bounced from his seat. ‘You mean you came clean with her?’
‘I had no choice. She was not going to fess up unless I told her the truth. Trust me when I say she can smell a lie from miles away. But not to worry, I would not have told her if I was not sure she could handle it.’
     ‘That’s my man,’ Timothy said as he shook Fabrice’s hand. ‘So what happened next?’
     ‘We exchanged phone numbers and she said she would try to get Jennifer to fess up, and then get back to me.’
     ‘Wow.’ Timothy gave a sigh of relief. ‘That was cool. Pichichi is one son of a bitch. Anyways, the Commissioner asked to see you. Said to report to his office as soon as you get here.’
     Fabrice stood and tucked his uniform. Bracing himself for the Commissioner’s demands for a miraculous end to the case, he left the office. 
     He crossed the lobby and ascended the wooden staircase to the Commissioner’s office. He knocked the door and entered to find the Commissioner perusing a document on his desk. He saluted the Commissioner who motioned him to sit. He did.
     The Commissioner leaned forward with his elbows on his desk and said, ‘I believe you have been briefed on the suicide of the Apostolic Church pastor?’
     ‘Yes, sir, I have.’
     The Commissioner leaned back on his seat, saying, ‘This is getting out of hand, Inspector: these multiple murders are getting the public jittery, and the Governor is squeezing at my neck for expedited results. So tell me you are getting closer to the killer.’
     ‘We are making remarkable progress, sir. We should have the killer behind bars anytime soon.’
     ‘I certainly hope so. By the way, InspectorEnowGladys tells me you have been really wearing yourself out on this case. I can understand if you want to take a few days off.’
     Fabrice tried to conceal his surprise from the Commissioner as he felt his heartbeat quicken. He could not believe Gladys would go to such lengths. With the hint of a smile, he said, ‘Thank you, sir; but I do not want to take a break. The killer is getting everyone jittery, and we need everything we can get to stop him. Afterwards, I can consider applying for a leave.’
     The Commissioner smiled and said, ‘I am impressed by your determination, Inspector. Good luck with the case.’
     ‘Thank you, sir,’ Fabrice said as he got to his feet. He saluted the Commissioner again before leaving the office.