The whole room smelled of fresh blood and corpses. Steven tugged
at his mother’s hand continuously; tears free falling from both
eyes as he glanced round the house. His father lay lifeless on the
floor just a few meters behind him. In front of him was his beloved
sister Sharon, in a pool of her own blood. Still, he continued to tug
and call his mother who had passed out on the floor.
After a few minutes, there was commotion in the house as Stella
walked in with a handful of neighbors. There was crying and
wailing and shouting. Some began to curse the men responsible,
some just walked round in circles with hands on their heads, and
while some others who were more courageous went to check the
lifeless bodies on the floor. More people came in through the front
door and the noise amplified. One of the neighbors came to Steven
and tried to pull him away from his mother. He would not let go.
“I think Mama Stella is still alive o. Bring water! Bring water, fast!!”
The man said after feeling Dorothea’s fading pulse.
A bucket of water materialized from nowhere and they poured it on
her. She didn’t budge.
“Jesus Christ. Please wake up Mama Stella. More water please!!!”
The man shouted.
Stella was crying profusely. She was in the arms of one of the
neighbors who had some sort of close relationship with her
mother. Another neighbor carried Steven from his mother’s side,
taking him away from the room.
“I want to see my mother. I want my mother!!! Leave me alone. I
want my mother.” Steven screamed, kicking his legs and flailing
his arms.
The man who held him did not let go. He held Steven tight and
carried him downstairs to his flat. Steven kept on crying and
asking for his mother until he slept off.
******************************************************
Samson and his team sped through the small road that led to the
area where they suspected that the gunshots came from. They had
to go past three streets to get to the suspected location. As they
cut out from the second street, they met with huge traffic on the
minor road that led to Jeffery’s street.
“What? What kind of traffic is this at this time of the day and
season?” Samson said angrily to the members of his team.
“I think we should go back. Maybe it was just a firecracker sir.”
Raphael replied.
“Raphael! You disappoint me! I know you are a veteran in the field.
How can you say that what we all heard was just a firecracker?!!!”
Samson retorted.
“I am sorry sir. But as it is, the road is blocked. We cannot cut
across traffic because both lanes are in a standstill. The only
logical thing we can do is find our way back.” Raphael said, trying
to convince his commander.
“No Ralph. The Only logical thing we should do is find how to get
to the place and now!” Samson commanded.
Just then another gunshot was heard. The sound was even louder
than the ones they heard before now.
Furious, Samson barked orders.
“Sheriff, man the car! Raphael and Tunde, we are going there on
foot. I will not have armed bandits terrorize people in my vicinity
and on my watch. Move it ladies! Let’s go! Move, move, move,
move, move!”
They got out of the police vehicle and zigzagged across the street
with assault rifles in hand.
“Give way, give way, coming through, excuse me…” Samson
barked as they half ran, moving between pedestrians and
motorcycles to get to Jeffery’s street.
As they got on the street, they stopped jogging and walked slowly;
trying to decipher which of the buildings the gunshots could have
come from. A few minutes later, Tunde who was looking
backwards saw some activity about four houses behind. A man
was being carried into the back of a car. He looked lifeless and
was covered in blood. Tunde quickly brought the attention of the
others to it. Just as they began walking towards the scene,
another group of people carried a young girl from the building and
tried to put her into another car. She too looked lifeless and was
covered in blood.
Samson and the other officers rushed to the scene with their guns.
At that time, a crowd had begun to gather.
“Hey, you. What is happening here?” Samson asked, pointing to an
elderly man who was directing the neighbors on how to properly
handle and place the corpses in the back of the car.
“Me?” The man asked pointing at himself
“Yes, you. I am Lieutenant Samson. I work with Divisional
Headquarters for this district. We heard gunshots from the police
station four streets away as we were turning in for the day. What
happened?” Samson queried.
A middle-aged woman from the crowd burst into tears as they
brought Dorothea out. They put her in yet another car directly
behind the first two. The man, who had earlier taken Steven to his
room, held the woman by the shoulder and rocked her gently,
pleading with her to be calm and to stop crying.
“They call me Papa Junior. I am a close friend to the deceased.
Armed robbers attacked us and killed a neighbor and his daughter.
The gunshots you heard were the ones that killed them. The wife is
in the last car over there. She is still alive but barely conscious.
We are trying to get them to the hospital for professional
evaluation.” Papa Junior replied.
“Oh my God!” Samson lamented and continued,
“Let me see them.” He finished.
They opened the door of the cars and Samson inspected both
corpses one after the other. He shook his head after each
examination, with a gloomy look on his face.
“This is wicked! Here is my card. Take them to Kingston Hospital.
The doctors should attend to you immediately you show them this.
Take the other side of the road, the normal route is blocked. Two
trucks collided and have caused a lot of traffic, so the alternative
route is your best option. I will join you shortly.” Samson said.
He turned to Raphael.
“Raph, go with them. I need to inspect the murder scene. Maybe
we can get any clues that would lead us to the killers.” Samson
finished.
Raphael nodded and went into one of the cars. Samson waited
until all three cars had driven off, and then spoke to no one in
particular.
“Can someone please show me the residence of the victims?”
“Wetin you wan do now ehn? Wetin? Where una dey when dem kill
Papa Stella and Sharon? God will judge you! God will…” The
middle aged woman who was wailing began to shout and curse
when her husband forcefully put a hand over her mouth and took
her inside.
Another neighbor volunteered to show them the flat where Jeffery
and his family lived. Samson thanked him and went with him up
the stairs closely followed by Tunde. The neighbor who
volunteered pointed to the entrance of the flat and went back. He
did not go along with the police officers into the room. Samson
side stepped the blood and other evidence and just looked around.
After walking around for about three minutes, he brought out his
handkerchief and asked Tunde for his. With one handkerchief on
his left palm, he used the other handkerchief to pick up the bullets
on the floor. He also found a few drops of Fluid but he could not
take the evidence.
“Call the forensics team. Tell them we have a code blue situation
and give them every detail. You know the drill. I must have the
report by the time I open my email tomorrow morning.” Samson
told Tunde.
Tunde took out his phone, dialed a number, and passed on the
instructions.
Samson was still crouched, trying to see if there were any more
clues he could salvage from the scene when they heard a voice
from the door.
“Where is my mummy?”
Both officers turned.
A red eyed Steven stared them in the face, ready for another deluge
of tears if they gave him an unsatisfactory answer.
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