Treachery in the Yard (11 page)

I felt like lighting another cigarette. I don't enjoy smoking that much, but it gives my hands something to do, and by putting something in my mouth I'm not as likely to open it as much. The area commander arrived first. He smiled grimly at me and nodded at Dr. Puene. Then Chief and Akpan came in. Now we were all together. The good doctor sat at the far side of the table. He looked calm, his custom-made suit without the slightest wrinkle.

The police commissioner arrived at last. Ahmed Abdullah was as tall as Dr. Puene, largely built, with dark coarse skin, a rounded fleshy face framed with glasses, and a neck as thick as an ox. Probably with a brain to match.

His protruding stomach tugged at his crisply ironed uniform, threatening to dislodge the shiny brass button there. A very harsh man, bad tempered. Officers in the state had a morbid fear of the man. You should—if you want to remain on the force.

He and Chief greeted one another in the Moslem fashion.

I saluted.

We all sat down.

Commissioner Ahmed sat opposite Dr. Puene. To his left, from
Area Command, was Jonathan Amadi. To his right, my chief of police, Isaac Olatunji. Captain Akpan sat to his right. I sat near no one. None of them looked at me.

The commissioner spoke up first. “Dr. Puene, first I want you to understand that you are not under cross-examination. You are not under any obligation to answer any questions.” The good doctor said nothing. I muttered something to myself about sacred cows. The commissioner continued, “But to see justice served, of course we expect you will fully cooperate.”

“Of course,” Dr. Puene said quietly. He sat back in his chair.

It was Amadi's turn. “Doctor, of course you know that anything you do tell us could be used in a court of law. Do you wish to have an attorney present?”

“Do I need one?”

They all smiled at him. No, he did not need an attorney.

My mentor, Chief Olatunji, leaned forward. “Dr. Puene, do you know Okpara?”

“Of course. He's a friend and party member. He's running against me.”

Chief cleared his throat, going through the motions. “What is your relationship with him?”

“We're politicians running against each other. But we're also members of the same party. Some of our supporters do not quite get along as well as they could, but he and I are fine.”

“So your relationship with him is cordial?”

“We are running against each other.”

“Answer the question directly.”

“I don't have to agree with his opinions to be cordial.”

Puene loved to play people's feelings. There was nothing satisfying about his answers to the questions. I usually have less respect for people who are not able to stand up to someone like
Puene, and there weren't too many people in this room who would go up against him. He knew it, and he was enjoying it. So it felt right to put a damper on his enjoyment—and, well, perhaps my career did not mean all that much to me. “Doctor, do you want to be the governor of Rivers State?”

They all looked at me. I was speaking out of turn.

“With the help of God and your vote, yes, detective.”

“Don't you have the best motive to blow him up? To have his assistant killed?”

His eyes grew harder than the bullets that killed Wike. He looked directly at Chief. “There is no need to be rude. I don't have to answer this nonsense. I am a highly placed and well-respected party member. That question was . . . inappropriate. I will defeat Okpara politically, you know; I hardly have to kill him.”

Chief's eyes narrowed as he turned to me. “Lieutenant, proceed with caution. This is an inquiry, not a trial.”

I nodded. “Of course. Doctor, are you aware of the plot to assassinate Okpara?”

“I am not aware of any such plot.”

“Doctor, there is a man we know of as Thompson. Do you know him?”

“I do not know anyone of that name.”

“Fine. Did you have Thompson, or whatever his real name is, kill Stephen Wike?”

“Detective!” the commissioner barked. He went so far as to remove his glasses. “You either behave yourself or I'll remove you from this panel.”

I met his stare but nodded in respect. “I am just doing my job.”

“Are you?” He turned to Captain Akpan. “Do you usually tolerate such an approach from a junior officer? Perhaps I should look into this personally.” He put his glasses back on.

Clearly if I said anything else, I'd be thrown out of the meeting and probably get suspended. I leaned back and closed my mouth. I'd given the doctor the message. And it felt good. I could stop. For now.

Unfortunately, for my sense of self-satisfaction, the doctor looked rather amused. He could afford to be. There was no danger to him in this room, except from me . . . the “junior officer.”

“Anyone with more questions?” the commissioner asked.

No one had any. What a surprise.

The doctor smiled. “Every opportunity I have, please believe that I urge my supporters to desist from violence. Yet, there has been violence. For example, at the peace meeting we had, there was an unfortunate incident. But both Okpara and myself believe in the democratic process. We know that violence is a cancer. That is why we want to change things around.”

Good political speech, I thought.

“Thank you, Dr. Puene,” Captain Akpan said, smiling.

The commissioner joined in. “Doctor, thank you very much for coming today. We have no further questions.” He started to pack up his papers.

That was it. We all stood. They shook hands. No one shook my hand. The good doctor smiled at me and left. They all walked out, leaving me alone. I looked down at the table. Chief came back into the room a moment later.

“What the hell were you doing?”

“What you taught me,” I replied, trying to look puzzled.

“Knock off that look with me. You were way out of line. Why ask him such obvious questions, unless you just wanted to provoke him?”

“Would we not have looked foolish if no one asked him a hard question? At least now we can say we tried.”

“You did not ask him any hard questions. You only embarrassed yourself.” He looked at me, trying to figure out if I was being sincere or sarcastic. “I don't have the authority to cover you if you persist.” He turned on his heel.

I was left alone in the conference room, and eventually walked out by myself.

When I walked into my office, Femi looked up from the report he was writing. All he needed was a glance. “I see it didn't go well.”

I sat at my desk. A draft report on the Wike murder faced me.

Femi was still looking at me, wanting more, so I told him, “I figured I didn't have much of a career anyway. It's good you weren't there. Will you give me some money when they fire me?”

Femi laughed. “You got nothing out of him?”

I shook my head. “Without evidence, all I could do was bluster. And no one around the table was interested in my trying to pressure him. He's too high up. Maybe I'll give up police work and write a novel.”

Femi was used to my moods. I had started out idealistic but life has a way of changing that.

Akpan startled me, coming by my office a few minutes after, to tell me that a gunshot had been reported at Borikiri, around
the time I left yesterday. He pointed out that the shooting was near the reported address for Thompson. “Bystanders told us that one man, about your age and height, was chasing a younger man who fit Thompson's description. Some coincidence, eh?”

We exchanged a look. “Any news of Thompson's whereabouts now?”

“I have officers working on that. They have orders to bring him in alive. And they are in good enough shape to run him down if he tries to get away.” He smiled flatly. Or was it sarcastically? “Just thought you'd like to know.”

I was thankful he was on my side. He could have been upset.

“And, Chief wants to see you.”

“About what?”

“He did not bother to tell me. It sounded . . . urgent.”

“I hear you. I'm going right now.”

I stared at the open doorway after Captain Akpan left, thinking over what he said.

At Chief's office, Stella was in the front office as usual, typing away on her old Imperial manual.

“How are you?” I asked.

“Don't bother with the repartee, I'm busy.”

“I'm here to see Chief. Is he free?”

She nodded. “He knows you're coming. Just go in. I know what you're going to ask, so don't bother. I don't know anything.”

I asked anyway. “What's happening?”

Stella frowned and did not look up, avoiding my eyes. Not a good sign.

I walked into Olatunji's office. He looked up with displeasure. Another bad sign. Today was not to be a chummy day.

“Good day, sir.” I walked up to his large desk.

He had his speech ready and did not waste time. “We worked
the interagency operation for eighteen months. Now Osamu is dead. And this afternoon was the final nail in your coffin. A number of people want you off the case, and I can't disagree. That's the best I can do to appease them.” He said it crisply. I don't think he wanted to say it, or at least I did not want to think he wanted to say it.

“I don't understand.”

“That's just it. You do not understand.”

I looked at him directly. He looked back more so. “Tell me this is a joke, sir.”

He got up from his executive chair and walked to the window, his back to me, hands in his trouser pockets.

“It is no joke,” he said quietly, looking out the window.

“You're going to let some brass-button hound you into doing this? Take me off the case in the middle of an investigation into multiple murders?”

I had every right to be angered by his decision to pull me off the Okpara case.

He turned, looked at me angrily, then returned to his executive chair. “I told you. It was not my decision. You ask why you've been taken off the case? That you have thrown caution to the winds is more than enough reason. I tried to slow you down and you ignored me. You're an ingrate. I am disappointed in you, Tammy.”

I was completely taken aback by his anger. I did not know what to say—anything would be wrong. So I just nodded, accepted his summary dismissal, and left. In the outer office, Stella kept her eyes down as I went by. “Duck,” she told me under her breath.

As I walked through the lobby, the boys at the counter eyed me jealously because they thought I had Chief's ear—they had no
idea what was really going on. I nodded to their salute and left the building.

I needed to see what my options were, and make some private calls. My office phone could be monitored if I was under surveillance so I walked to the phone booth across the street, dialed our Area Command, and prayed that I would get Amadi directly. He answered on the fourth ring.

“Yes?”

I was nervous. This was not the sort of thing I'd ever done before. “It's Tamunoemi Peterside, sir.”

“What a pleasant surprise.” From his tone of voice, he already knew, but I went through the motions anyway.

“Will you speak to Chief Olatunji?”

“No. Frankly, Tammy, this one is beyond me. There's nothing I can do here.”

Right. “I can't quit this or be put off. I'm working something big here. Dr. Puene is involved. This could be what we've been waiting for. We could finally get something on him.”

“Whoever said we wanted to get something on Dr. Puene? Who is this ‘we'? I can't help you.”

“You don't understand.”

“Sure, I understand. So do you. Listen. How shall I put it? Hmm. How about this: You've gone out of your mind.”

“I'm just doing my job. A lot is at stake here.”

“You are certainly right about that.” The line went dead.

I lit a cigarette. I did not like the taste but drew the smoke into my lungs anyway. Breathing the air was as deadly as smoking anyway. Life can be like that.

I thought longer about who to phone next. This time, the police commissioner.

“Yes. I know why you're calling. Don't bother asking,” he said.

“Ask him to put me back on.”

“And how would he do that? And why would he listen to me? Sorry, Tammy. Chief Olatunji is under pressure and he made the decision he had to make. That is his job. I trust his judgment.”

“Even when it is obvious something is wrong?”

“Especially when it is obvious there is something wrong. That is why I delegate. Take some good advice, Tammy. Don't call me again, and don't call anyone else.” The line went dead. Again.

I needed a break. All of a sudden, I wanted to talk with Freda. Maybe that was a good sign. I called her up and she made time between her appointments. She was waiting outside her office building when I drove up. Her smile was almost as hot as the sun. She walked over to my car doing interesting things with her hips. It was hard to keep my eyes off them, and it appeared she did not want my eyes off them. She smiled. Her manicured fingers had long blood-red nails.

As we drove through Rumuokwurushi, she chattered away, talking marriage, or about her friends, all of whom happened to have already gotten married. She was counting them off on her fingers. She had a lot of fingers; it seemed she was the only one left. I got the message. Call me Mr. Insensitive, but right then it did not feel like a marriage discussion kind of day.

Freda had wanted us married ever since we met. I was not sure why, or why I was seeing her right now. But here we both were. Weren't we?

“Did you hear what I said, Tammy?”

“Everything.”

“About Rebecca?” she asked.

I sighed. “She's getting married. I'm happy for her.”

“When are you going to get serious?”

“Seriously, I'm happy for her.”

She looked at me, really looked at me, for the first time. “What's going on?”