Murder Inquiry.

Murder Inquiry ( chapters 1-5)

Chapter One

10th January 2009
Lagos, Nigeria.
It was 1am and Biola Johnson sat at her table, in her bedroom in her palatial home located on Osborne road in Ikoyi, a highbrow area in the city of Lagos.
She sat at the table studying the loan deal she signed three years ago, an activity she’s been performing at about the same time everyday, for the past three months.
It was a chilly harmattan morning, and even though she had all her windows and curtains closed and her socks on, she still felt the cold all over her.
This particular hamrmattan period was the worst she had ever witnessed in her entire life. It seemed as if the cold enveloped her and seeped through her body like a penetrating liquid, making her shiver badly like a leafless tree in the middle of a storm.
Apart from the harmattan, something else was making her shiver-the document she was studying. At the time she had applied for the loan from Edwin Loans, a commercial bank in wall street owned by Mr. Edwin Wolfgang, a New York based banker, she had been experiencing a couple of bad business years.
It was a period of global economic meltdown, and the stock market in Nigeria had just crashed she had lost several million dollars, with the majority of her shares ending up worth one-tenth the amount she bought them.
The American stock exchange in which she had invested a sizable part of her wealth, was the worst hit in the economic meltdown, and she lost all she invested.
In an attempt to try to make up for her losses, she sold some of her properties, but the money she made from the sales was barely enough to get her back on her feet. She thought of applying for loans, as a quick fix to her financial problems, but the interest rates of banks both home and abroad was on the high side, which was quite unfavourable for someone in her financial situation.
It was in the midst of all these, that her Accountant approached her, and told her a bank in New York was offering a relief loan, for people who had experienced heavy losses from the meltdown. The interesting thing about the loan the New York bank was offering was the collateral, Edwin Loans accepts paintings, and sculptures as collateral for large loans.
She had jumped at the loan offer, and applied for twenty million dollars, without considering the terms of the loan, which includes a clause that inability to pay back the loan in full within a three-year period, would lead to the bank taking over her entire arts collection, which is about one hundred and twenty million dollars in worth, and was inherited from her late father.
And in the event of any unexpected death, litigation would only take place in New York courts, where the banks has its headquarters.
She had decided not to sell the legacy her father left behind, because she felt that with the loan she would be able to get herself and her business stable, and on track. But the loan duration was just two weeks to expiration, and she was still experiencing serious business challenges.
The oil company she had invested in did not make profit sufficient enough to offset the loan, due to the global economic meltdown, bunkery and vandalisation of oil pipelines.
She sighed, this was one of the rare moments she wished she got married, the presence of a loving husband would have given her a bit of comfort.
The sudden opening of her door knocked her out of her reverie. She was surprised, but she did not look up from the document she was studying because she did not expect any of her many servants to disturb her at this odd hour.
She remained still as she heard the footsteps of the intruder as she approached her bedside table, wondering how and when her domestic staff got the courage to walk into her room, without knocking.
The intruder touched her on the shoulder, she turned her head to look at her, to her consternation, the intruder was a completely strange white woman who looked like she was in her early forties.
The woman flashed a sweet and infectious smile at her, she smiled back, and looking down at the stranger’s hand, she saw that she was holding a knife in her right hand. Before she could open her mouth to ask who the intruder was and what she was doing in her room with a kitchen knife, the woman shot out her left hand and dragging her by her long weaved-on Brazilian hair, she pulled her down to the floor, and slit her throat like a turkey that is being slaughtered for Christmas celebrations, with blood sputtering out from her throat, and flowing down to the beautiful Persian rug her room was furnished with.
Moments before Biola died, the stranger cut two fingers off her right hand.
It was 10 am and madam has not come downstairs for breakfast, she usually have her breakfast by 7am, and leave for the office by 8.
The chief maid had decided to wait for two hours to see if madam actually woke up late.
After two hours had elapsed, and there was no sign of madam the chief maid went upstairs to wake madam up, and ask if her breakfast should be brought up to her room.
The chief maid got to madam’s door and knocked for close to five minutes without getting any response from Madam.
She had to make sure she get a response from her Madam before going in, because Ms. Johnson had made it a rule for all domestic servants to not come into her room if she does not tell them to, and she never locked her bedroom door. 
The chief maid pulled the door open after close to five minutes of knocking, the sight that greeted her was not in any way pleasant, she stared at the body of madam and suddenly felt weakness, and the urge to vomit at the same time. She closed the door and ran downstairs to grab the phone in the sitting room, she dialed Madam’s only close relative, her brother Lekan.
Lekan had just finished a meeting with an investor, when the chief maid called. He reached into his pocket for his iPhone, which had been ringing for sometime, a vibrating buzz.
He brought out the phone and looked at the caller Id on the screen, it was his sister’s home telephone number.
‘What could be the problem’ he thought, as he picked the call.
“Hello?” he said.
The voice at the other end was the frightened voice of Mrs. Balogun, the chief maid.
“Brother Lekan, we woke up this morning to find madam dead“she said.
“Which Madam are you talking about?” Lekan barked.
“Your sister” the chief maid answered.
“How and when did that happen?” Lekan asked, screaming on top of his voice.
“This morning, I went up to her room when she did not come early for breakfast, and I found her dead” the chief maid answered.
“Okay, have you called the police yet?” Lekan asked.
“No I have not done that yet, I wanted to call you first, before calling the Police” the chief maid said,
“Okay make sure nothing in her room is tampered with, then call the Police, I’d be with you shortly” Lekan said, and hung up.
After ending the call, Lekan picked up his carkeys, and ran out of his office to the carpark. He jumped into his car, and drove out of the compound nearly hitting the gates, as the security guard delayed in opening them.
He drove at a high speed from his office in Ikeja, to his sister’s home in Ikoyi, sometimes breaking traffic rules, and bribing the traffic wardens, whenever they attempted to pull him over for reckless driving. He got to his sister’s home an hour and thirty minutes after leaving his office, he parked his car outside the gate, and ran into the compound, ignoring the security guard’s greetings. He raced up the staircase, and into his sister’s bedroom.
He was close to passing out, when he saw his sister’s corpse on the floor, with the congealed blood all over the floor.
He turned away from the corpse, and walked towards the door, taking one last look at the corpse, he noticed her mutilated fingers, he immediately closed the door behind him.
“Who could have done this to my sweet innocent sister?” he mumbled to himself as he walked down the staircase, tears pouring out of his eyes and coursing down his cheeks.
As soon as Lekan got downstairs he called for an ambulance.
An hour later the sound of sirens filled the air, as men from the local police station came, an ambulance followed five minutes later. The leader of the police team spoke to Lekan.
“I’m inspector Stephen Fadairo from the Ikoyi police station, we got a call from one Mr. Lekan Johnson that someone was murdered are we at the right address?” the inspector asked.
“Yes you are Sir, my sister was brutally murdered in the early hours of this morning” Lekan said.
“We’re very sorry for what happened sir, but can you take us to the crime scene?” the police inspector asked.
“No problem” Lekan said.
He took them to his sister’s room upstairs.
Inspector Fadairo pulled Lekan aside, as the forensic experts got down to work, examining the room for anything that can help in tracing the murderer.
“How long has she been dead?’ Inspector Fadairo asked.
”I can’t really tell, but the domestic servants said they met her dead, when they came into the room” Lekan said, they began to hear the loud siren of an ambulance, as it made its way into the compound.
“Did you call for an ambulance?” the Inspector asked, as  he opened his notepad to take down notes.
“Yes sir I did” Lekan said.
“So who do you think is behind the killing?” the inspector asked, as he lifted the white sheet that was used to cover the corpse.
“I can’t really tell who is behind the killing sir, but I would also like to find out who the wicked fellow that decided to take my sister’s life is” Lekan said.
“Hmmm” the Inspector said, nodding his head, he examined the corpse without touching it, and took down more notes, writing for about five minutes.
“We would have to cordone this room off for now, no one goes in or out of this room” the Inspector said, closing his notepad, just as the paramedics came running into the room, with a stretcher.
“We would be running some forensic investigations, so we don’t want anyone to tamper with anything in the room” the Inspector continued.
I have no problems with that Sir” Lekan said. He and the Inspecor stepped out of the room.
A huge sign reading ‘CRIME SCENE, KEEP OFF’ was placed in front of the door.
The paramedics carried Biola’s body on the stretcher to the ambulance, and drove her to the morgue.
Lekan saw the police officers off to their vehicle. “Mr. Johnson, we would try our possible best to make sure that the perpetrators of this crime is brought to book” Inspector Fadairo said, as he shook hands with Lekan, the police officers boarded their vehicle and left.