ALL THE PIECES

It had never ended this bad before.

The man thought as he scrubbed his hands furiously, being sure to scrub under his fingernails, trying to wash away all trace of the evidence. He stuck his hand under the running tap and watched as soapy water, tinged red with blood, swirled around the drain before disappearing. When he was sure all trace of blood was washed from his hands, he set about the task of cleaning down anything his hands might have touched, including the faucet and door knob.

He went back to the room, his eyes straying to where the young girl lay, her unstaring eyes wide open, the blood that ran down her cut neck starting to congeal and dry.

He shook his head. It was her fault, he thought. If only she didn’t open her eyes just when he was going to place the calabash on her head, took a look at the red cloth tied around his waist and start to scream. Now he was stuck in this dilemma because she chose not to stay put.

He found the knife he had used and being careful to avoid its blade, he picked it up by its hilt with the handkerchief in his pocket and proceeded to rub it clean of his finger prints doing the same to the room’s doorknob as well. One cannot be too careful.

Looking around one last time to be sure he wasn’t missing anything, he picked up his calabash, shook his head at what appeared to be a waste of sacrifice, and left the room. He walked down the hall and entered another, dressed up quickly and packed his things before exiting the hotel quietly.

 

 

 The Case

The case was open and shut.

A murder case involving the daughter of one of the most prominent businessmen in the state, a confused drug-induced amnesiac boyfriend, a quick conviction and a quick sentencing.

The press had a field day with this case for weeks after reports of the grisly murder of a young girl in a seedy hotel at one of the most dangerous parts of the state, hit the streets.

The reason for choosing said hotel was chalked up to anonymity by her boyfriend during his questioning after his arrest. The hotel had no need to take names or IDs and charged by the hour.

The poor girl had been found slaughtered on the bed with a bloody kitchen knife beside her by the hotel cleaning staff who was about to start her day cleaning. The manager of the hotel had promptly contacted the police, while one of his staff who had a friend interning at a nearby radio station, had sent a message to his friend.

Before the police could get started on their job, the hotel was teeming with newsmen from different media houses. Before long, the police had identified the girl and the newsmen knew they had struck gold. Never mind that a promising young girl had just been executed.

 Bolanle Oloworale, daughter of Tayo Oloworale, one of the movers and shakers of the state’s business district, and chairman of Olyson Group, with fingers in manufacturing, importing and exporting, even in oil and gas. Social media users came up with different theories before the arrest of her boyfriend, Olawale, who was the last one to see her alive and had the convenient excuse of selective amnesia of the events of that night.

Some add attributed the murder to attack from her father’s business rivals, a run in with cultist, armed robbers, rapists, or all of them. Some even thought of it as the arm of God seeking justice as news had just come out, months prior, of the inhumane treatment faced by staffs of different Olyson Group factories which were quickly dismissed as hearsay after a phony “investigation” was ordered by the chairman to look into the allegations.

All of the theories were quelled by the arrest of Olawale Benson, Bolanle’s boyfriend, a mere two weeks after her murder. As a high priority case, a large percentage of the state’s police resources were diverted into finding the murderer and closing the case, especially since the dead girl’s father volunteered to fund the investigation.

It didn’t take too long to find out the girl’s movement that day, how she had met her boyfriend at a club on the island and how they had left together, the last anyone had seen her alive till she was found slaughtered in a hotel room.

The boyfriend was promptly picked up from his apartment and questioned. He had at first claimed to have dropped her off at home after a brief argument, claiming that was the last he had heard of her before getting the news of her death. But it did not have to take a well experienced detective to know he was hiding some details with his shiftiness and how his story started to not add up. A glance through Bolanle’s phone revealed pictures of both of them in various states of undress, in the hotel room, few hours before her death. Also forensic reports found Olawale’s finger prints all over the room.

After a brutal interrogation, that left Olawale’s right eye swollen shut and a few nails and teeth missing from his body, a confession was obtained. Olawale claimed to have indeed taken Bolanle to the hotel after clubbing, had fun, indulged in more alcohol and weed. After an argument about his jealousy and insecurity on how Bolanle relates with other men, he had left the hotel, sat in his car and promptly passed out.

He then claimed to have woken up shortly before dawn, confused. All memory of how he had gotten to his car or what he was doing there was gone. The last thing he remembered was arguing with Bolanle and pulling a knife he had found under the bed, presumably from the last notorious occupants of the room, on her. He claimed to not know anything else until he woke up, the next morning.

He had then gone back to the room, according to him, to apologize. Instead, he  found her dead, slaughtered on the bed.

Panicked and unable to ascertain if he had a hand in it or not, he had ran home to hide out. He spent weeks trying to come up with a believable alibi for when the police came questioning. The pictures on Bolanle’s phone skipped his mind..

That was all the break the police had needed and soon, news of his arrest and confession had reached news men and social media. His pictures had made rounds on social media as the face of a murderer.

He was immediately charged to court. The prosecution was sure they were going to get the maximum sentence and encouraged the Judge not to be lenient with his punishment.

While he claimed amnesia as his major defense to the charges levied against him, Olawale believed, in some part of his mind, to be responsible for the death of Bolanle, whether directly or indirectly remained tucked in a corner of his befuddled brain.

Shortly before his sentencing, Olawale requested to see his lawyer and divulged to him that he remembered waking up from his weed-induced haze and seeing a man leaving the hotel, sometime in the middle of the night, glancing around furtively as if expecting someone to stop him.

Believing it was either an excuse Olawale had made up to push back his sentencing or an image his subconscious had made up, his lawyer had dismissed it, certain his guilty plea would grant his client a lesser sentence.

Well enough, he was back in court and the judge had handed his verdict. He proclaimed Olawale guilty of the murder of Bolanle. Consequently, he was sentenced to 50 years in a maximum prison, with an option of parole after 20 years with good behavior.

 At the press conference in front of the courtroom, the state prosecutor had claimed to be satisfied with the sentencing, reaffirming his trust in the state’s justice system. Tayo Oloworale’s wife had burst into tears while the man himself had levelled a calm look at reporters, claiming being satisfied enough to know that justice had prevailed over the killer of his daughter.

And then, the case was closed.

 

 

 THE REVEAL

It was a celebratory atmosphere in the house of Governor-Elect Tolu Ogunsakin. He received congratulatory messages from his highly dressed and heavily bejeweled guests as he and his wife trailed from one end of the room to the other. They moved around, thanking their guest for attending the celebration party of his win in the just concluded gubernatorial elections.

The room was filled with important and wealthy men in the state. They were men who had at some point or the other, supported his race for the gubernatorial seat during his campaign. Other party members and news men also milled around the room.

He could picture the headlines tomorrow; Governor-Elect Ogunsakin hosts victory party to celebrate his clinching of the gubernatorial seat.

The lead of the story following as; Important men from all sectors of the state turn out en masse to congratulate and celebrate Governor-Elect Ogunsakin for coming out victorious after a well run race for the gubernatorial seat.

Followed by excerpts from the speech he was sure to make at some point during the night.

Spotting the chairman of Olyson Group, Tayo Oloworale and his wife looking haggard and lost, standing at a corner of the room, he swallowed his distaste and led his wife over, just to engage in small talk. They had not been the same since the death of their wayward daughter. He contemplated not sending them an invite but his campaign advisor’s raised his concerns of how bad it’ll look on him if he failed to appreciate the efforts Mr. Oloworale had made at the beginning of his campaign before they were consumed by the hunt for their daughter’s murderer.

Shortly after leaving Mr. Oloworale and his wife behind, he got a signal from his campaign advisor through the earpiece he wore in his ear. It was time to make the well-awaited speech. His first public speech after the final results had been called out and he had been proclaimed the winner of the polls.

He walked up the dais, after his introduction on stage, well aware that all eyes and camera lens were trained on him, capturing his big moment. He picked up the mic.

“Distinguished ladies and gentlemen,” he began, reading off the prepared script from the teleprompter placed at the edge of the stage, written and vetted thoroughly by his campaign advisor, “friends, and people of the press. I am standing before you, not as a politician, nor a businessman, not even as the Governor-Elect of this prosperous state, but as a liar, thief, and a murder-“he cut short abruptly and looked up sharply.

The eyes of everyone trained on him conveyed shock. He found his campaign advisor in the sea of faces, looking up at him with a triumphant smirk. “Continue,” he mouthed.

Before he had the chance to object, his earpiece cackled to life.

“My Governor,” a mocking voice drawled in his ear. “You have started already, why end now?”

He moved to peel off the offending instrument from his ear but the voice stopped him.

“Right beneath you is a bomb planted by my people.” The voice turned menacing. “If you remove the earpiece, or so much as veer off script, I’ll make sure you’re recognizable by nothing more that the tip of your toe. You could dare me.” There was no mistaking the threat layered on his voice. The person behind the voice was really going to do what he threatened.

The governor-elect felt terror grip his spine. He searched around, looking for a way out, but all he saw were faces trained on him, etched in confusion. Considering his option, he decided to continue.

“A liar, a thief, and a murderer.” He continued. As subdued as his voice sounded, it was carried to the end of the room, no thanks to boom microphone placed on the stage. “I have lied totally, about my plans for the state. My purpose for running for this seat is purely selfish and self-indulgent. I sabotaged my opposition during campaigns, smearing his name and character even though he was innocent.” He could remember hiring a woman to claim his opposition had raped her while he was in the university, even though she disclosed to him that what they had was consensual.

“During my brief stint in the State Internal Affairs Commission, under the previous administration, I syphoned millions of naira off the salary of state employees in various schemes I claimed were beneficial to them.” A gasp from the crowd made him raise his head. He trailed the gaze of his guests to the projected screen behind him.

He grew pale as he took in the detailed illustration of all the schemes he had come up with during his time as commissioner, the amount he had made off them as well as the phony organizations he had made up to receive the money so as to avoid declaring them. Now he knew there was no way to get out of this.

He thought he kept all these information hidden. How had they gotten to the hands of his enemies? Tolu Ogunsakin had no time to dwell on his thoughts. The thought of the bomb beneath his feet was more threatening.

“While the look on your face warms my tummy, dear governor, I’ll advise you to continue, we’re just getting to the interesting parts.” The voice in his ears cackled and he pivoted to study the speech in front of him.

“I am as well a murderer,” he continued, suddenly losing all spirit, “in my quest for wealth and power, I made use of countless young girls for ritualistic sacrifices.” More gasps sounded and he didn’t need to turn around before knowing that on the projected screen are pictures of him with the dismembered heads of various young ladies in his arms. He had received those pictures as blackmail sometime during his campaign and had asked his advisor to deal with it as he deemed fit, he was fully focused on his campaign. What a big mistake that turned out to be.

He read on, “Also, I am fully responsible for the death of late Bolanle Oloworale, as she was a victim of one of my many ritualistic sacrifices.” He glanced up and straight into the fury filled eyes of his former sponsor. “No I didn’t-“he was about to deny what he had just said but was cut short by sounds of incantation coming from the speakers behind him.

Recognizing the voice as his, he went totally pale, knowing now, without a doubt, that he had been ruined.

Slowly, he turned towards the screen. The video was shaky, shot from the gap between a slightly ajar door and its frame, but there was no mistaking his face and that of the girl sleeping on the bed as they were in clear focus. 

He saw the moment he was about to drop the calabash on her head but she opened her eyes and let out a scream. Her scream was cut short by his hand clamped on her mouth, but she was trashing around too much and he had no choice but to drop the calabash in his hand and grab the knife off the bedside table. He did not give himself the chance to think twice before bringing the knife down on her exposed neck, sliding its uncharacteristic sharp blade across her throat over and over again, till she went limp.

Then he stood, dropped the knife and stepped out of frame.

There was pin drop silence in the hall. Everyone in different states of disbelief. The newsmen cameras having caught everything.

“All these evidences as well as your little speech, have been sent to the police and uploaded on social media. The police would be here in few minutes, enjoy your last moments as a free man.” The voice in his ear jolted him. “Goodbye Mister Governor.” The mock in his voice was apparent. He spied his advisor waving “goodbye” to him, before disappearing.

No, he thought as he fell to his knees on the stage, this was not how he envisioned the day to go.

He could see the headlines now; “Chaos at Governor Elect’s celebratory party” as well as excerpts from his speech, probably where he said “I am a liar, a thief, and a murderer.”

In his shock, he registered movement off the stage and then a body was hurtling towards him with a primal howl.

If felt like an out of the body experience, watching Tayo Oloworale’s pudgy fist barrel in to him over and over, hitting anywhere he could get his hands on before being pulled away by the police men who just arrived on stage.

The Governor-Elect was pulled up, had his rights read to him, handcuffed and escorted out of the hall.

The photographers, seemingly jolted out of their shock, took photographs while their reporter counterparts could be heard on the phone reporting what had just went down to their superiors. 

His advisor, watching all this with satisfaction, from the corner which he hid along with other members of his group put a phone to his ears and told the person on the other line, “It is done”.

**

The next day, the headlines read; “Governor-Elect escorted out of celebratory party after shocking revelations.”

Olawale Benson was promptly released and the process of arraigning and sentencing Tolu Ogunsakin was closely followed by pressmen and citizens all around the country.

 

THE RESOLUTION

It almost didn’t work out. 

It took him almost a year to track down the hotel staff who had seen it all go down. The staff had recorded it all on his phone after he had realized who it was that he caught in such compromising situation.

It also didn’t help that the only clue he had to go on was a description, from a weed induced haze, of a man wearing the hotel staff uniform and escaping into the night. He had traced the man, thinking he was the murderer but had instead gotten a shocking reveal.

It took him time to convince the hotel staff of his anonymity when the video would be released.

Climbing his way up the ladder of Tolu Ogunsakin’s campaign group had been the easiest, even easier was gaining his trust. For someone with lots of dirty secrets in his shelf, Tolu Ogunsakin was really gullible and narcissistic. All he had needed to do was compliment his genius and suggest a few politically correct moves to have him eating from his palm. 

But now it was all done and they could put everything behind them.

The campaign advisor to Tolu Ogunsakin, embattled Governor-Elect of the state, Adebayo Benson,  sat in his car, a wide smile curving his lips as he watch his brother take a tentative step out of the correctional facility, now a free man.

 

THE END.