Larry i hail ooo. u too much.

LarrySun:
I think so. Just say anything.

Waiting for the next update...

All Hail Det. Lot.

The maid sounded pretty interesting. An ex-soldier's Daughter? There is more to her than it looks.

FOURTEEN

Doctor Bantu continued staring at Lot with total fascination, as if the gumshoe was a world-renowned movie star. Or rather like the kind of concentration you give at seeing for the first time the likes of Ojukwu, Mandela, Obama, Hitler and Archimedes.

“How did you hear about Mr. Malik’s death?” Bantu asked Lot.

“I’m asking the questions around here, not the other way round. Except if you’ve taken it upon yourself to investigate this case single-handedly. Then I wouldn’t have to linger here any longer.”

“Oh no, I’m sorry. I can’t do that, I wouldn’t know what steps to take. The significance of the bent blade of grass, the broken point of a pencil, the crack of the mirror, a strand of hair, a square peg in a triangular hole -- would appear meaningless to me."

“The detective work is more than going around on all fours to search for evidence and soiling your designer pair of trousers in the process. The detective work involves the study of how the criminal’s mind works and finding out truth through deductive reasoning.” Lot stopped and said, “I shouldn’t be telling you all these.”

“All what you said were Greek to me.”

“I thought as much. Anyway, I learnt that you’ve checked on the corpse, is that right?”

“That’s right, sir.” Bantu was visibly older than Lot but he didn’t seem to realize that. If he did, he didn’t acknowledge it.

“Apart from being a doctor, who are you to the deceased?”

“I’m just his doctor, nothing else.”

“Use one word to describe Mr. Malik.”

The doctor thought hard before finally replying, “Promiscuous.”

“Really?”

“I wonder how his wife kept up with him. The man always followed anything wearing a bra when he was alive.” He raised his hands, saying, “I know, I know, it is wrong to speak ill of the dead. And I know you don’t like it.”

“As far as I’m concerned, the dead are the innocent, no matter how grave their crimes could have been before their deaths.”

“Mr. Jamal Malik slept with five of my nurses, even the married ones. He was just a pathological skirt-chaser. He was always being treated for social diseases.”

“The man had an adventurous life,” Lot nodded, “I hope you had nothing against him for his actions.”

“No, nothing,” replied Bantu, “I’ve just never seen anyone with a libido that matched his. He could have a platoon of illegitimate children at the other side of the blanket.”

“If he did, I hope they showed up,” Lot commented, “Did Mr. Malik have any enemy when he was alive?”

The doctor suddenly laughed. “Any enemies?” he sputtered, “Any? Sir, he had more enemies than Tuface has fans. You’ve got to get in line to hate him. Most of his foes belonged in the feminine class.”

“What is your report about the deceased’s death? I should like to hear your own medical story before I continue my inquisition among the family members.” He turned to Daniel, “While Doctor Bantu is telling me about the murder, would you mind drawing me a rough plan of the house? One can’t wander about so big a place as this and still understand the arrangement of quarters.”

Doctor Bantu reached into a folder and came up with a document which he now placed on the large table. He was looking in the text of the document as he spoke:

“The deceased died from a close stab from a very sharp knife. I think the murderer brought the knife mainly to do the deed. It is a knife with serrated blade and a distinctive triangular chip in the handle. The absence of serious bleeding along the deep wound indicated that death occurred very rapidly following infliction of the injury. No defensive injuries were present. I give the cause of death as a stab wound to the spine.”

“What kind of knife is it exactly? A kitchen knife?”

“A boning knife. The killer must have known a lot about knives. This knife is not the kind you find at common stores where kitchen utensils are sold. It could easily have been a product of the Peruvians.”

“The Peruvians?” Lot repeated the statement. It was a statement which needed explaining.

“The Peruvians make blades so sharp that some people can’t even feel the initial incision when they are cut. Most kitchen knives are known to be produced by the Germans, and it is plain that this particular isn’t meant for domestic uses.”

Daniel was listening to the two men with rapt attention.

“This weapon used on the victim,” Bantu continued, “is of a thin-pointed blade about 12centimetres long. The blade, especially the top, is very sharp. Other boning knives possess blades which angle upward, but the one we are talking about is straight. The choice of the killer’s weapon flexibility and angle option is somewhat personal.”

“You mean to tell me the killer used a knife carved for murder?” Lot asked. “I know of only two knives used particularly for that; a marine k-bar and a hunting knife, both without serrations.”

“Many knives, almost all knives can be used to commit murder. There are skinning knives, military knives, ceremonial knives, and four hundred and twenty-three different kinds of knives.”

Daniel intruded in the conversation, “I don’t know about boning knives, but I know about chef’s knives, decorating knives, vegetable peelers, butcher trimming, filleting knives, carving knives and paring knives.”

“The doctor looked at him for a moment and said, “Thanks for nothing.” Like most prophets, Daniel was fated to be ignored. The doctor turned to Lot, “The kind of knife the murderer used on the victim can as well be used for separating meat and disconnecting tissues from bones during butchering and trimming. The tip of the knife can do most of the task because it’s quite sharply pointed.”

“You know a lot about knives.” Lot observed.

Doctor Bantu smiled, he obviously saw that he had caught his audience and it was clear from his mannerism and pauses that he enjoyed telling a story. He was greatly mollified at regarding himself a person of such magnanimous importance in such a sensational case, but he had a flair for description and vivid pantomime.

“Not quite,” he tried to show modesty, “I’m just lucky to know a little bit about this particular kind of knife. My cousin was stabbed with this particular kind of knife fourteen years ago. He was a lecturer; we were told that he was stabbed by one of his students, but the murderer was never caught.”

“I’m sorry about that.”

“If I had known you at the time, the criminal would have probably been caught.”

“Probably. Now, kindly tell me everything you know about the weapon.”

The doctor shrugged, “I’ve already said all I know, except that boning knives are generally held reversed in the hand and extreme care must be taken to keep the knife pointed away from your body. It is not the kind of knife you use on frozen food or partially frozen meat as force generally requires to be applied and a slip may result in serious injury or even death.”

“You mean to say it is a dangerous weapon even to its handler?”

“To a careless handler, yes. It could be harmful to the attacker wielding it.”

“Do you have any close estimate of the time of death?”

“I think the death occurred between midnight and 2a.m. that’s judging by body temperature and the extent of rigor. I may be able to narrow it down after autopsy but it’s quite likely. Estimating the time of death is always a tricky business. I can only smell out the moment of death through the degree of coldness of that night, which can inadvertently speed up rigor mortis.”

There was a curious expression on Lot’s face; not contemptuous, not humorous, not bored, but a mixture of the three. He said, “Thanks a lot, Doctor Bantu, you’ve been more helpful than enough. Thanks a lot.”

“I’ll be leaving for the morgue to make an official report which would be attached to the autopsy note. Are you sure you won’t be needing me anymore?”

“We won’t be for now.”

“Then I suppose I can leave you two to go on with your investigations,” he stood up and added, “I have absolute fate in you about solving this murder, Detective Lot.” He frowned and added, “But if you want to know what the deceased had in the stomach before his death you’ll have to wait until—”

“Don’t be flippant, doctor. You may leave now.”

The doctor walked out of the room cowered.

pricelesslove: Larry i hail ooo. u too much.

Thanks ma'am. I'm glad to see that you're still following.

maputohq:
Waiting for the next update...

LOL! Updated.

rapmike: All Hail Det. Lot.

The maid sounded pretty interesting. An ex-soldier's Daughter? There is more to her than it looks.

Let's wait and see. Thanks for following.

@Larry, U wan kill me with suspense o!

It good to have u back Larry. U never stop mesmerizing me with ur writing skills. all I can say is bravo. #inthevoicedbanj# I'm just an Oliver Twist

Lot turned to look at Daniel whose arms were folded across his chest.

“Secrets are being exposed now.” He told the younger man.

“I’m not seeing any exposed secret yet.”

Lot tried to picture Daniel thinking and found it extremely difficult. He had always seen the young man as an incurable idiot but not the kind that attempt to get the temperature of a man’s brain by putting a clinical thermometre into his ear, or the kind that would shoot himself in the foot to observe the effect of the bullet, but nearly so.

“Didn’t you hear the doctor’s words?” The detective asked.

“I heard everything.”

“But you were briefly deaf when he said the deceased was a womanizer, right?”

“I heard it, but I don’t see what significance that carries in this case. No one deserves to die for his fondness of the fair sex.”

“Your brain is getting blunter each passing year, Famous. The man slept with five nurses in the doctor’s clinic, including the married ones. What kind of human being does that?”

“And so? There are more grievous crimes than that. Should I begin to list them?”

“You’ve said some pretty dumb things in the past, but this one takes the biscuit! The deceased was cheating on his blind wife; shouldn’t that tell you something?”

“What I believe would tell me something is the content of the note you found on the corpse. Someone intentionally put that note there. We need to know what it contains.”

Detective Lot looked at him for a few seconds and asked, “You really think you’ll understand the content of the note, don’t you?”

“I believe so.”

“Okay,” Lot’s hand disappeared into his bag and came out with a new sheet of paper on which he’d been previously jotting; he gave the paper to Daniel. “That’s what I’ve been able to come up with. What do you make of that?”

Daniel looked in the note. He could see that the detective had done an amazing job. He’d copied the half-revealed texts here as they’d appeared in the original note, and he’d tried to complete each line with presumed completion for each of the lines. He had done this with the first twenty lines, but had left the remaining five uncompleted. Daniel saw that the detective was holding another sheet as the one on his palm. The detective had written it in two copies. He tried to read the note.

I don’t want to ramble too unnecessarily. I feel that
it is at this moment impera tive to inform you that these
may quite be a chance that I shall probably be dead when
you read this note; because I’m beginning to suspect that
my life is somehow being th reatened.

I should have called, really , but I’m afraid the secret
isn’t as hushed as it initially was. Or rather someone, somehow
may linger behind these stult ifying walls to eavesdrop at every
words that come out of my m outh. I have therefore gotten a
new line from which we ca n have our own moments of
privacy; a safe-house well pa rticularly situated out of this
compound and we can freely discuss without fear of having
the walls grow unnecessary ea rs. The phone number, which
you will notice when you see it, will only be available each
day between midday and 2 pm. And if I’m fortunately alive
when you call, I shall be wai ting for you to cite the quote.

I expect that the other partie s concerned are still unaware
of the truth over there. But V — is beginning to suspect
the truth – we have to act fast.

I really hope the plan wor ks out well.

*In the beginning*

There is a tid---
In the affairs---
Which, taken a---
Leads on to f---

Daniel was visibly impressed at the work. He saw that it lacked polish here and there, but it wasn’t bad in the least, really. He read the texts three times. When he raised his head, he asked the particularly obvious question:

“Why the dash in line 18?”

Lot had been expecting him to ask that question, “Look back at the line, what do you see before the dash?”

“The letter V.”

“V in block—capital letter. That spells proper noun. It’s either the name of a person or a place. And honestly, I can’t guess that. But from the drift of that line and the next, I’m assuming it’s somebody’s name.”

“There are names that begin with the letter, names like Victor or Victoria.”

“Or Vivian, Valerie, Vanessa, Veronica, Violet, Virginia or even Vincent. Which one among the household names begins with V?”

“Their middle names may be, we may ask them for their middle names when we begin to question them. The name does not necessarily have to be Foreign, it could be local.”

“I disagree. How many local names that begins with V can you tell me?”

Daniel tried to think and found it extremely hard.

“But we’ll take your suggestion,” Lot added, “We ask them for their middle names.”

“There is something else,” said Daniel, “If what you decode is correct, then the phone number is in the note. But I can’t seem to find any number except 2, and you presumed it only represents a time in the afternoon.”

“Yes, the phone number is in the note.”

“But I’m not seeing it yet.”

“There is, we only need to notice it when we see it—according to line 14. Festina lente, make haste slowly.”

“I have one more question; are you certain that these words you guessed for each line are correct?”

“I’m not certain about all the lines, but most are correctly filled. Now, let’s discuss about the last four lines I’ve not been able to crack.”

“ ‘In the beginning’ “ Daniel quoted, “Whatever does that mean?”

Lot answered him, “You’re asking questions as if you’re the boss here.”

“I’m only asking questions about what I don’t understand. Everything is just so complicated.”

“I believe line 21 shows the start of something, perhaps the origin of the message hidden in the last four lines. You noticed that the particular line is asterisked front and back, right?”

“I see it.”

“We can only get the significance of line 20 after completing the lines after.”

Daniel critically looked at the last four lines, as he looked closely he felt somehow familiar with the incomplete texts. A part of him tried to tell him something of which he was not able to grab.

“There is a tide or something.” Lot said.

“Daniel looked up sharply at his superior, “What did you just say, sir?”

“It’s on the note, line 21.”

He looked at the note, it was not complete but he could now see it clearly as if the burnt part had been joined. On that line was ‘There is a tid’, but there was an absence of just a single letter—e!

Daniel Famous could see everything clearly now. He was so very excited at his discovery, he didn’t request for a pen to write down his discovery, he knew the lines perfectly. He spoke out excitedly:

“It’s a quote! It’s a quote!!”

“How sure are you about that?”

“Because I know it well, I know the quote!”

“Let me hear it,” Lot said, still not believing that Daniel of all people had actually cracked the lines that had been giving him quite a tough time.”

"There is a tide…In the affairs of men…Which, taken at the flood…Leads on to fortune.”

Lot frowned, “Who said that?” he asked.

“It’s from Shakespeare,” replied Famous, “It’s a popular quote, I’m surprised you don’t know it.”

“Which Shakespeare?”

“The quote is from Julius Caesar.”
“That is the only Shakespeare I didn’t read. Julius Caesar said those words?”

“No, Brutus did.”

“What does it mean?”

“It means that there is no time to be wasted anymore. That’s what the writer of the note was trying to tell his recipient. The quote literally means ‘now or never’.”

Adinije: It good to have u back Larry. U never mesmerizing me with ur writing skills. all I can say is bravo. #inthevoicedbanj# I'm just an Oliver Twist

Thanks dear. I'm also glad you have you back. Your presence made my day.

Larry! Larry!! Are you a fan of Shakespeare?

[quote author=LarrySun]And it turns out you were right.

i knew it!!!

rapmike: Larry! Larry!! Are you a fan of Shakespeare?

Larry, oya answer the question.
@rapmike...with his way of writing, he should be, although Shakespeare's way of writing is not easily comprehended, a bit tedious than Larrysun's

hmmmm...
this one that Mr.Malik was a womaniszer, i hope he didn't date the maid?
anyways Fingerscrossed...

Lot with his tongue lashing, hian

nawa ooo. see as human being dey crank brain. hmmmm Larry well done.

“What about the asterisked lined 21? Is it part of the quote?”

“No, it’s not. I suppose that is why that line is asterisked. Now that the final lines are broken, we’ve got to find the significance they have with line 21.”

“What we need to find out is the phone number.”

“There’s no number here, Detective Lot. Maybe the writer forgot to include the phone number when he was writing the message.”

“Contrary to your latest achievement, that is the dumbest word that has escaped from your mouth today, my dear Famous. The number is here in the note, we just need to notice it through linear reasoning. It’s a kind of code that needs to be broken. If the writer and his reader understand each other they just hide some things in their messages, knowing that it was the only other recipient who would be able to break it.”

“You mean Mr. Malik hid a phone number in the note?”

Lot stared at him, “You think the deceased wrote the note?”

“Of course, he’s the one who did it. Who else would have written it?”

“Why do you think so?”

“It’s here in plain sight, you should have seen it, sir. You cracked most of it.”

“Humour me,” said Lot.

“The first five lines show that the writer was visibly afraid for his life – ‘I shall probably be dead when you read this note’ – and he was murdered before his reader got the note.”

“Is that what you think?”

“Isn’t that what it is?”

“I’m afraid yes, it isn’t. That note was not written by Mr. Jamal Malik, it was sent to him.”

“How did you come about that, sir?”

Lot shifted his bulk in his seat, “This is what I believe: the deceased and the writer were involved in a secret plan (see line 20) but they were very much afraid of having someone among the family members find out about their plans (see lines 19 and 18), this made the writer of the note get a new line so that both could talk freely. But unfortunately for Jamal, the plan was discovered by a member of the household; and he was murdered before he could contact his partner. The other party’s life is currently in danger, we’ve got to find out the writer of the note and contact him. If we’re able to do that, we may probably know the identity of the murderer of Jamal Malik.”

“I don’t know how we’ll possibly go about doing that. There is no phone number here. I am not seeing any.”

The doctor studied the note for five minutes. There was silence in the room, Daniel was also trying to find the number but he was not succeeding.

“I believe the phone number lies in the quote.” Lot said.

“I would like to understand the reasoning behind this belief.”

Lot stared at Daniel again.

“What?” Daniel asked, evidently uncomfortable with the stare.

“You just made a grammatical blunder, Famous.”

“How?”

“The verbs ‘like’, ‘prefer’, ‘care’, ‘be glad’, ‘be inclined’, etc., are very common in first-person conditional statements. In these, ‘should’, not ‘would’, is the correct form of the English idiom. The phrase should rather be ‘I should like to know’.”

“Okay, thanks.”

Lot concentrated on the note and said, “The quote is rather a misnomer to the rest of the note; a space was particularly left between line 20 and 21, that should tell you something.”

“It’s telling me nothing, sir.”

“Why would the writer put the quote in the first place?”

“To warn his recipient, sir, about the danger inherent in the refusal to carry out the plan as speedily as possible.”

“No,” Lot disagreed, “I don’t think that’s the only reason why he’d go to such length to give such a straightforward message. There’s one thing the writer would not want a third party to know, and that is the phone number. You should wrap your brain around that.”

“If you think so, then ‘In the beginning’ here is where we should begin looking, right?”

Lot did not answer, a torrent of thoughts poured from his brow as he kept staring at the note. Then his face beamed up suddenly and he grabbed a pen with which he began scribbling on a paper. Within a minute, he spoke out, well pleased with himself.

“I think I’ve got the number.” Lot pushed what he’d written down towards Daniel.

On the paper was a phone number:

08041525344.

Larrysun are you sure you are not a detective? If not, what's your displine? cos am begining to suspect you oooooo or is that you love triller novel this much I like lot way of reasoning sha, he is a very inteligent Detective

Wow! This Larry is something else o! Waiting to see Lot's explanation on how he come about the phone number.

hmmmmm

i tried to re-check and read the letter again
i couldn't decipher where d numbers were scripted from.

Larrysun...i envy your writing talent, kudos bro.

“How did you come about this?” Daniel asked, favouring the detective with the blankest stare of astonishment that had ever been beheld on his countenance.

“It’s very simple. I told you the number hides in the quote, didn’t I? What gave it off was line 21. The asterisked words are only three: 3 digits.”

“I don’t understand yet.”

“ ‘In the beginning’ signifies origin, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, they are the first three words of Genesis.”

“Good. You know the three numbers that are the genesis of the Nigerian mobile telecommunication lines, don’t you?”

“You mean 080?”

“Exactly.”

“Isn’t that far-fetched?”

“No, it’s not. My dearest mor*n. You see, the job of a detective, however feeble-minded he or his sidekick may be, is to produce a faithful and accurate report on whatever fact he’d been able to establish, however insignificant those facts may appear.” The voice was monotonous, didactic, with the slow refined articulation of a schoolmaster explaining the school rules to a particularly dull pupil. “It’s often the small, seemingly insignificant and far-fetched detail that later assume a new-born magnitude. Haven’t you seen it by now?”

“No, I’ve not.”

Lot sighed, looked at Daniel a moment and said, “Of the eight numbers you are seeing, count out each second number.”

Daniel obeyed, and he gasped as he counted them out, “1, 2, 3, 4.”

“The numbers are the four lines of the quote.”

“And the number before them are the number of words in each line.” Daniel observed excitedly.

“He finally gets it.”

“That’s very brilliant!” Daniel bellowed, “The writer of the note is very clever. He hid the numbers brilliantly, only few people would be able to figure that out.”

“Is that what you think?” asked Lot. “Anyway, let’s call him, shall we?”

Before placing the call, Lot made certain that his phone number was hidden. The call rang severally before it was picked.

“Hello?” It was a male voice at the other end of the line, the voice sounded weary.

“There is a tide.” Lot said.

“It’s nice hearing your voice again, Detective Lot.”

“How do you know me?”

“Of course, I know you. You’re the popular detective.”

“We’ve been able to break the quote, evidently.”

“I expected nothing less from you.”

“Are you aware that your life may be in danger?”

“Is it?”

“Jamal Malik has been killed.”

“I didn’t kill him.”

“Do you know who did?”

“Of course.”

“Who is?”

“I can’t tell you that on the phone. You’ll have to meet me in person.”

“Where are you?”

“Do you want to come and meet me?”

“I’ll send my partner to come and bring you to me, only if you’ll tell us where you are.”

The man at the other end paused a while before replying, “Okay, I’m at 16, Sawmill Lane. You have to come very quickly.”

“What is your name, if I may ask?”

The man paused before answering, “Abel.”

The call was terminated.

Lot told Daniel the address and asked, “Is the address legit?”

“I don’t know,” replied Daniel, “but I know Sawmill Lane, it's not very far from here.”

“How long will it take you to reach there?”

“Half an hour – or an hour latest.”

“Then you should be on your way immediately. Go and bring our link to everything.”

“Now?”

“Yes, now.”

Daniel regarded Lot. “Someday,” he said, “You’re going to ask me to bring you the Queen of England and I’ll do my best. But I must remind you that the last time you in my presence when asked someone to be brought in, it didn’t really end very happily.”

“You need to get there very fast, even if it means you have to steal a car.”

“That’d be impossible. I have no idea about how to hot-wire an engine. Hell! I don’t even know how to drive. I’m not one of those whizzes that possess natural talents on the operation of motor vehicles that is the equivalent of Mozart’s brilliance at musical composition.”

“Get out of here!”

After Daniel’s departure, Lot dialled the phone number again. This time it rang and rang, but nobody picked up the call.

rapmike: Larry! Larry!! Are you a fan of Shakespeare?

I love the man!

Flakeey: hmmmm...
this one that Mr.Malik was a womaniszer, i hope he didn't date the maid?
anyways Fingerscrossed...

Lot with his tongue lashing, hian

He is easily irritated. And much like Old Chima, Ruth Brown serves to become his nemesis.

Flakeey:

Larry, oya answer the question.
@rapmike...with his way of writing, he should be, although Shakespeare's way of writing is not easily comprehended, a bit tedious than Larrysun's

His writing style is very deep, and it has remained unmatched for centuries.

pricelesslove: nawa ooo. see as human being dey crank brain. hmmmm Larry well done.

Thank you, Princess. The brain is an amazing bowl of spaghetti.

bigsholly: Larrysun are you sure you are not a detective? If not, what's your displine? cos am begining to suspect you oooooo or is that you love triller novel this much I like lot way of reasoning sha, he is a very inteligent Detective

You'd not believe me if I told you my discipline.

Adinije: Wow! This Larry is something else o! Waiting to see Lot's explanation on how he come about the phone number.

Lol! Larry is an ordinary person, but I can't say the same about Detective Lot though.

Flakeey: hmmmmm

i tried to re-check and read the letter again
i couldn't decipher where d numbers were scripted from.

Larrysun...i envy your writing talent, kudos bro.

Thanks a lot, ma'am. I appreciate the accolade.

*groans*
Dis update is too short
D suspense is killing
Abel hmmmmm

Larry, update is too short na. Abeg make nothing happen to Abel o!

Flakeey: *groans*
Dis update is too short
D suspense is killing
Abel hmmmmm

Will update tonight.

Adinije: Larry, update is too short na. Abeg make nothing happen to Abel o!

The chapter has ended. The next chapter shall be posted tonight.

Lol! So, you like Abel?