PATRON OF TERROR Page 8

  The waiter stood respectfully. “Perhaps you would like to begin with something to drink?”

  “I will have …” Freda began.

  “Fried rice with salad and chicken parts for two,” I cut her off.

  She looked at me. I tried to grin. “Make mine fresh fish barbecue. No chicken please,” she said and grinned back. Those lips were lovely. She was lovely. She was a nice person.

  “Certainly. And a drink perhaps?”

  “A nice pinot grigot.”

  “Excellent. A bottle, for the two of you?”

  “We’d love that,” she said.

  “And an appetizer to enjoy with your drinks?”

  “Surprise us,” she smiled, handing the menu to him.

  He smiled back and I swear there were naira in his eyes.

  I handed over my menu. The waiter walked away smiling. That dinner would be three or four hours’ pay. I figured they called the place The Grill for a reason, to grill your pocket dry.

  The waiter returned with an expensive looking bottle and made a great show of opening it, pouring a bit into a glass and offering it to Freda. She sipped it and gave it her okay. He filled our glasses, left the wine on the table and returned in a moment with what appeared to be an expensively presented cup of peanuts. They were coated with something, probably gold, to justify the high price of the place.

  Freda raised her glass, started to make a toast, then decided against it.

  “Is something wrong? You look like you’re at work.” I didn’t answer immediately. I was keeping an eye out for Henry, just in case he showed up and Ade, my backup. I didn’t think Freda would notice. So far I’ve seen neither both men but I know Ade would be keeping out of sight. That was good on Ade’s part. Staying in the background and observing everything.

  As we sipped the wine, which was very good, I looked up, wondering what to say next.

  Probably the wrong thing to say.

  “Sorry. It’s my work.”

  “I know it is important. But honey, don’t we have some things to talk about?”

  I put my empty glass on the table. “I’m sorry. Again. I guess I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know?”

  Our dinners sat untouched.

  “I’m not sure I have anything to say. No. No, that isn’t true, Freda.”

  “What is true?”

  I took a breath. “I’m not in love with you, and I don’t want to pretend any more. I’m sorry.”

  “I know you’re not.”

  “Do you love me?”

  “I like you very much.”

  I couldn’t think of anything to say. Finally, “You hardly touched your meal.”

  “I lost my appetite. I had been seriously hungry. For food. And for you.”

  “Maybe I should just drop you off at your place.”

  She called the waiter over, got the bill and paid him cash from her purse. She usually let me pay. Then she got up and walked out. I followed.

  We reached my car. This was not going well.

  “Drop me off at my house.”

  It was a long, silent ride to her place.

  “It’s the case, you know how important it is.” She said nothing.

  I got out to open her door but she was already out of the car and up the stairs. I watched her unlock her door without looking back at me, go inside, and close the door with a slam. It was loud and furious. I had never seen her angry. One more thing she kept hidden from me.

  I struggled out of my car and got her luggage from the boot and carried it upstairs. When I entered the sitting room, she was now where around. I left the bags there, and stole out of the house. She was in a very fowl mood and I don’t want to push it. And I also had Henry at the back of my mind, so I didn’t feel guilty.

  Maybe, a little.

  I got into my car and sat in my car for a while, looking at the light in her window before driving back to the restaurant. That was when my cell phone rang.

  It was Ade.

  “I saw Henry walk in. He looked around, staying inside the glass door. I was in a far, dark corner. The Head Waiter came over to him, he said something quickly, then walked back out.”

  “Now that was interesting. I’m on my way back, Ade. I’ll be there in a moment,” I said, “Keep an eye on him. I’m almost there. I’m around the corner.”

  “Okay.” I pulled up, got out of my car and hurried inside the restaurant. Ade walked over as soon he saw me walk in.

  “I watched him through the glass doors. Henry walked into that small dark building across the street.”

  We both walked outside again. “I’m going to take a look. You stay here and keep your eyes open.”

  “Okay.”

  I went across the road, to the side of the building, away from the lights. And waited.

  21

  A moment later, a small dark car pulled up. I recognized the driver: Sodienyie Pepples. The boy who was the messenger, at least supposedly. I recognized him from the file photos.

  I stayed in the shadows as he went into the same dark building. I saw Henry open that door for him.

  Henry wore his usual expensive black suit. Sodienyie looked unpolished, wearing rougher clothes.

  I was taken aback a bit.

  Henry Akpodigha meeting Sodienyie Pepple.

  That got me thinking. Most likely that Sodienyie was Henry’s source. And Sam had said the kid was just a messenger, that he knew nothing. Did Sam know that the kid was more than just a messenger like he told me? Did he lie to me? Or Sodienyie lied to him.

  So what’s Henry up to? He wouldn’t be meeting Sodienyie, if he was his source in the same venue he agreed to meet me. Probable reason was Henry already had an appointment to meet Sodienyie there, maybe walk across to the restaurant to meet with me afterwards. He knew I would be there in an hour. He never reckoned that I would show up early, and I have Freda to thank for that bit of luck. I had planned drive her home and drive back to the restaurant afterwards to meet Henry.

  Then I saw the Head Waiter and another server come out of The Grill with what looked like four wrapped dinners and some bottles. Henry must have made the order when Ade saw him walk into The Grill earlier. They went into the dark building and soon left empty handed, returning to the restaurant.

  Four dinners.

  I waited.

  Soon enough a tall man came walking down the street, fortunately from the other side. Sam Inome. My earlier assessment of the situation was wrong. Sam’s presence there meant he was the one lying.

  He went into the small dark building also.

  A large white car drove up, parked and Senator Pepple got out. He was easy to recognize as he walked into the small dark building and closed the door behind him.

  He was casually dressed in jeans and a tee shirt which he wore in a relaxed manner. Senator Pepple was in his late thirties, one of the youngest Senators in Abuja. For once he was not surrounded by his usual train of body guards and aides.

  Pepple had an almost magical effect on voters, with a larger than life image. He was the leading advocate for the Niger Delta cause—of the people who lived there, as opposed to the people who went there for the oil.

  I crossed the street and went around to the side of the building. The first couple of windows were curtained, but the third was clear, because of an air conditioner. Nice.

  Peering through the edge of the window, staying in the dark, I saw them all. They were seated at a table away from the window, opening their dinners and getting along fabulously. They obviously knew each other well. Were these four men the engine house in the struggle for the Delta? Maybe that was the reason they were being cautious, and had moved their meeting across the street, from The Grill, which too open.

  The mere fact that they are together says something. Senator Pepples may be the man that handled the politics, Henry the media? Henry was a respected journalist. It was hard to believe he was even remotely connected to violence. Sodienyie was the armed angry youth in the Nige
r Delta, and looking at him I could believe would pull a trigger. Where did Sam fit in? Was it all just family to him?

  Were these men behind the Puene assassination? And why? These days, these times, anything was possible.

  But Pepple’s focus was on the Niger Delta problem. Puene was not challenging him on that. That probably ruled Pepples out as the man behind the assassination. Perhaps it was even Pepples who sent his kid brother to warn Puene. If it was not themselves, then who? Or maybe there was just a whole lot I did not know.

  They had to know who was behind the attack.

  I took out my cell and, very carefully, snapped several photos of the four men. It was easy to slip the cell just past the edge of the window. The lighting was not great, but later I could upload the pictures to my office computer, and then have the experts enhance them. The men’s faces would be clearly visible.

  I went back to the street. Checking the pictures. They were good enough, even on the cell’s display. I speed dialed Ade, and told him to meet me back inside the restaurant.

  When I returned inside The Grill, Ade was less than thrilled. I did apologize for interrupting his evening with his wife, not that it mattered much.

  He looked at his watch pointedly. He was controlling himself well, as usual. “What’s going on?” I told him what had happened.

  “Four people who were involved in or know about the Puene assassination are meeting right now across the street. I took their picture on my cell.” I told him who was at the meeting and my suspicions that at the very least, if Henry, the two Pepples and Sam were not responsible for the hit on the Puenes, might know who was.

  “It’s just a hunch?” he asked.

  “That’s right. I don’t know enough to be sure. I have to follow it up. I need to chat with our noble journalist. So am staying back for our meeting. I’m not saying they might not be our guys anyway.”

  “I thought Puene was easy on the Delta militants. Why would they have anything to do with his killing?

  “Is it likely? Puene might not have fought him strongly on the Delta now, but maybe Pepples was worried that if Puene got elected, he would start to flex his muscles. Pepples seems cleaner than most, but who knows? Maybe he wants a Governor sympathetic to their course in the State house. Maybe he sees Puene’s rival, Filatei, sympathetic instead coming from the Riverrine himself.”

  “Isn’t Filatei tied to Governor Fangbe? I thought the Governor and Pepples were on opposite sides.” Ade said.

  “You were right. I never thought of it. And that is back to square one, which means they might not be our guys afteral, but they might point us in the right direction. I have to talk to Henry first.”

  That was when the big white drove past. Henry was inside. Senator Pepple might have offered to drive the journalist home, and I guessed he couldn’t refuse. My bad luck.

  After I drove Ade home, and drove over to Henry’s place. He lived in a nice house at Rumuola. I decided not to phone him first while I grabbed something to eat. He might still be with the Senator, and might not pick my call.

  I stopped off at a local restaurant. My stomach was growling and I had to eat something given the expensive dinner we never ate.

  I finished up, then got back in my car. I phoned Ade, brought him up to speed and asked him to keep his cell phone close, in case I needed backup. In the morning I’d asked him to dig up what he could on Pepples the elder. I didn’t care he would growl about it. Then I started the Peugeot up and headed towards Henry’s.

  From where I parked two blocks away, there was no one home. Maybe, the senator had other stops to make before driving Henry home. Or maybe, the driver drove him home first before dropping off Henry.

  It took another half an hour of waiting before the big white car drove up. That gave me time to get my brain around work. I let him go inside. After a few minutes I walked up to his house and knocked on the door.

  He opened it, surprised, and was even more surprised when he saw me. He did not look happy.

  “I didn’t think you would come over to the house,” he said before I could say anything else. I kept standing there.

  He turned and walked inside leaving the door open, so I guessed it was alright I came in.

  I walked into his living room after him.

  “I heard you on the radio tonight, Henry. You’ve been talking to people who have information on the Puene deaths. I’m in charge of the investigation like I told you on the phone. Talk to me.”

  “I don’t have anything to say on that, detective”

  So of course I said, “About what?”

  He blinked.

  “I’m a journalist. I’ve heard rumors, no facts. What I have is on the air and in my paper.” But his poise was shaken.

  “I think you know more than rumors, Henry. I think Sodienyie Pepple is one of your sources, and I want to know if Senator Pepple’s was he just being a kindly big brother rescuing his errant kid brother. Or if he was behind the Puene deaths, and who used you to tidy up the mess, to send the public in another direction. How’s that for a theory?”

  He said nothing. He did not like being the one who had to answer questions. I bet he was trying to let my self propitious theory sink in.

  “Maybe Sodienyie was who shot out those tires,” I probed further.

  “You know what, detective? Your theory is way off. Sodienyie didn’t kill those people. And the Senator is not the one responsible for their death either.”

  “Maybe true, Henry, but I know the Senator’s involved somehow. If it’s not him, at least he knows who’s behind it. I think you know now too who killed Puene. And if you give me that piece of information, I will have no choice than to bring in and hold you for withholding information and material witness in the investigation. I think the Newspapers gonna like that Henry. Sensational journalist, Henry Akpodigha implicated in the Puene murders.”

  Pursing his lips, Henry had come to a decision. It looked like he wanted a duffle bag rather than a purse.

  He sat in a rather comfortable looking expensive chair, and waved his hand to another. I kept standing.

  “Of course I have been helping the Pepples and Sam get media coverage for their cousin’s group, The Struggle for Survival of the Niger Delta. That’s the breakaway group from Wariboko. And that is all I know.”

  I waited.

  “Sodienyie approached me on their behalf. He said The Struggle for Survival of the Niger Delta has information about the shooting. But they haven’t given me the information. At least, not yet. He said the leader of the group would only talk about it in exchange for media coverage of their struggle at their camp.”

  That sounded a lot like what Sam had told me. Maybe, he did not lie to me afteral.

  “I met them tonight to make arrangements for me to go down to the creek to see the Leader of The Struggle for Survival of the Niger Delta, Tari. That’s what they said his name was. Just Tari.”

  “By ‘they’ you mean the threesome you met earlier?”

  I pulled out my cell and showed him the pictures.

  He nodded.

  “I don’t know what’s going on, but something is. Maybe it would be best to find out about him now, before this goes any farther. I want to speak with Senator Pepple himself. But I don’t know him as well as you think. You’re tight with him. It doesn’t have to be official, I understand that. I don’t have time for official anyway. Will you arrange a meeting?”

  But he said he’d think about it, and told me to leave.

  22

  I set my alarm for 6 am. It was around 7 as I started off for work.

  I reached headquarters at 7.52 a.m. As I drove into the yard, I saw Akpan standing on the front steps, talking with several officers. He waved to me to come along, and went up the stairs.

  I parked in my assigned space by the old building, then walked over to the new one. I found Akpan in his top floor office with those men and several more. Even Stella had not arrived for work yet.

  “Good of yo
u to get in early, Tammy,” he said. The others nodded to me. “You heard the interview last night?”

  “Unfortunately I heard it all. It’s the last thing we needed. I went over to his house afterwards and talked with him. Meanwhile, I’m working on setting up a meeting with the militants, who think they have something to say about the incident.”

  He actually growled. I’d never seen Akpan growl.

  “Good work. But it won’t help right now.

  “Boys loyal to Puene had besieged the National Conservative Party secretariat. Party stalwarts began arriving the Party complex around 8. They’re holding a crucial meeting right now about the election. Or trying to hold it. The Puene boys see it as a way of anointing Filatei as the Governor for the coming general elections, according to them, now that Filatei has made sure Puene was out of the way.”

  “Going through downtown to headquarters, I saw no sign of trouble,” I said.

  He nodded to one of the riot squad men. I knew him well. “I’ve just come back from there. It started with a group of young men with placards chanting slogans and distributing. Then some showed up wielding wooden clubs. It did not take long for them to smash the first floor windows of the Party building. Then it spread to the buildings nearby. I had men down there but they were only a fraction of what was needed to control the mob.”

  Akpan picked up: “The report was that Puene supporters, both the peaceful ones and the violent youth gangs, took to the streets as the sun rose, bringing their own heat to the new day. They smashed car windows, store windows, chased Filatei loyalists and beat them. We already have fifteen in the hospital. When Filatei boys showed up, they were surrounded and beaten. There’s a lot of blood on the streets, Tammy. I think Henry knew exactly what he could be starting today.”

  Henry might as well have tossed a burning match onto a pile of (leaded) gasoline.

  “Maybe I should go and check it out.”