PERFECT MATCH

30. Lifeline

Author's POV

                  

                     Someone had called 911.
The paramedic team arrived in an ambulance that was manned by a nurse and a driver. The ambulance wailed its siren all the way to the accident scene. The police had the place surrounded, the entire road was blocked and they were interviewing witnesses, taking down statements, making observations and investigations. The media had also arrived but they were restricted by the yellow tapes used to create a barrier. The police had immediately labeled it a crime scene after they discovered that a Johnson was the victim.

                         
                     The detective in charge was the Deputy Commissioner of police. A tall, dark skinned man with greying beards and lowcut hairstyle. He was clad in his police uniform — a blue shirt with his initials inscribed on it on the right side, a rank symbol of Laurel wealth surrounding a single star and crossed tipstaffs. There was a badge on both arms of his shirt, blue striped rope slinked back on his shoulder from his left breast pocket.  He wore strong boots, a silencer gun strapped to his leather waistband, his forage cap sitting on his head, a communication device in his hand. Arinze was pacing around the crime scene, supervising and making observations. A phone was pressed against his ear, constantly answering a 'yes sir', to whoever he was speaking to.

                    

                  Pulling out a stretcher once the ambulance parked, the paramedics rolled it to the car which was crashed, upsidedown, squeezed – almost beyond recognition.  Luckily, with calculated moves, they were able to rescue Jason and place his body on the stretcher. Jason was unconscious, white shirt stained with blood, his face battered and swollen, a thick drop of blood, dripping from his head down to his face. An oxygen mask was placed over his nose, his pulse and blood pressure was checked and without wasting time, they moved the stretcher back to the ambulance.  The ambulance took off immediately after they were cleared by Sergeant Arinze.

                     Forensic science was present, taking samples of every droplet of blood, every broken shard of glass and paying attention to every single detail.

                     Sergeant Ifeoma, a young police officer rushed to Sergeant Arinze. She was also wearing her complete uniform, a black dress shirt, paired with black trousers and boots. A small gun was strapped on her waistband but she didn't wear a cap. She saluted the DCP. Arinze bobbed his head to acknowledge her greeting.

"Sir, we ran a test on the driver. Turns out he had a little alcohol in his system."

Sergeant Arinze nodded, shaking his head in distaste.  "Take him in for questioning and no one touches him, he is mine."

"But sir are we arresting him just like that? I mean his alcohol content didn't exceed the..." Ifeoma was not convinced,  uneasiness etched in her features.

Arinze shot her a glare that made her look down at her feet, with hands folded behind her back and rethink her question.  "Well guess who I was on the phone with?" Ifeoma averted her gaze to Arinze's eye level, staring at him with loss of words, puzzled.  "Chinedu! And he wants a perpetrator, else we'd have our asses burned." Ifeoma flinched at the intensity of his words, the sound of that name.  "So we better present this this gift to him on a platter of gold. Are you going to let the person who caused into his son an accident go scot free?"

She shook her head. 

"So get going." Arinze told her and she turned to leave, cuffing the drunk driver, Arinze watched her push him into a police van.