To a very prolific writer...i pray for a better you and many more grease to your pen HaPpY BiRtHdAY LarrySun!!!

Part Three

And it came to pass when Timi's release date arrived, and the gate of the prison was flung open for the insane prisoner. The freedom could be assumed to be well-deserved, as he did not hack any inmate or warden to pieces all through the years of his incarceration. He had taken up a polite mien and convinced the jailers that he deserved the liberty.

The first place Timi went after his release was his grandfather's house. The old house had looked older since the past five years. Shrubs sprouted from all corners of the house but the ambience of the surroundings was still pleasant. He walked to the door, donned the rubber gloves he had in his pocket and knocked. There was the poster of an obituary at the side of the entrance but Timi was too excited to read what it contained. He knocked again, there was no response. Another knock, still there came no reply. He turned the handle and the door gave way. He quietly opened the door and poked his head in. Certain that it was safe to enter, he allowed the rest of his body into the large living room. He found the old man sitting in an armchair. A small stool in front of him bore a wineglass and a half-full bottle of Bacardi.


The old grandfather was looking very old and weak. Timi was surprised he hadn't died yet. He was more surprised that the old man was not surprised to see him. He has always pictured in his head how terrified the man would be on seeing him. But contrarily, the old billionaire looked relaxed, but his eyes were not welcoming. There was a walking stick resting against the chair he sat in.

"Hello grandpa," Timi greeted, trying to make his voice as intimidating as possible.

"What do you want?" The man scowled back.

"I'm here for my inheritance, granny. The prodigal grandson has returned."

"You're getting nothing. Didn't I make myself clear two days ago?"

"Of course, you did. I was hoping you would have a rethink. It breaks my heart to see that you're still as headstrong even with your weak health."

"Get out of my house." Old George calmly said and reached for the wineglass. With shaky hands, he poured himself some wine and sipped slowly.

Timo shook his head and said, "You're so pathetic. I don't think you are in any position to make me leave. Not until I get what I want."

"You're getting nothing. I'd rather die than make you an heir."

Timi nodded, went to the small bar in the corner of the room, took out a wineglass and poured himself a drink from the bottle in front of his grandfather.

"You have made your choice," said the grandson, "It's my turn to make mine." With that statement, he put the glass to his lips and drank the wine. As he placed the glass on the table, he quickly rushed to the old man and gave him a sudden punch on the jaw. The old man passed out on the chair. Timi had been careful to make the blow a fatal one. It was very important that the man did not die from the punch. And fortunately for Timi, his grandfather had only lost consciousness. The glove he wore had helped in reducing the impact of the blow.

Timi ran to the door and locked it from within. Then he returned to his unconscious grandfather. He knew that the old man's room was on the top floor. He didn't have to carry his grandfather out of the house to get to the top floor, the stairs were readily erected in the living room. It was from the top of these stairs that his mother had fallen and broken her neck a few months after his birth. He knew that because no day would pass by without his father reminding him about the tragic story. Now after twenty-five years, his grandfather was going to roll down that flight of stairs as his mother had.

Timi carried his grandfather on his shoulder and climbed to the top of the stairs. If, perhaps, investigators came, he wanted them to believe that the old man, while climbing the stairs, had lost his footing and had tumbled down the staircase. On reaching the top of the stairs, Timi removed the fake handwritten will and put it in the pocket of the man's overcoat. He found some money in the other pocket and kept it. He needed the money both to feed himself and also buy some clothes. Then he firmly held his grandfather's head and hit it hard on the edge of the concrete step. He could hear a crunch as the base of the old man's skull shattered inward. There was no doubt that the man was now dead. He pushed the body down the steps and watched his grandfather roll and roll until he hit the ground.

His job was finished. No one would doubt that the man had had an accident. Timi was careful to leave no print behind as he opened the door and stepped out of the house.

Sleekyshuga:
Interesting one, Larry..

Thank you, ma'am.

VanTee20:
This is awesome, well done sir....

Thank you, sir. You've been quite scarce lately.

Randyblincks:
What manner of a man is this Boss larrysun ur d best!

Lol! I'm blushing, sir.

leppyj:
Nice larrysun.

Thank you, LeppyJ.

XploraBen:
I am always amazed at the concinnity of your stories.You're such a phenomenal writer.Your stories--which I've read here on nairaland--always portray the depth of your intelligence,and an impressive comprehension of the English vocabulary.

I'm also trying to write a story--a short one.I just found my knack for it recently.I know you can be a very good critic.

Welldone bro,more ink to your pen,more Mb to your device.

Thank you so much, sir.

Kindly share the link of that short story if you've written it.

omoshelwa:
Now m finally here
say hello to the girl of the thread...


Bro larrysun. I'm stuck to you like a hunch. Keep delivering this... God bless.

Welcome, Omoshelwa dear. God bless you too, ma'am.

BlissB:
To a very prolific writer...i pray for a better you and many more grease to your pen HaPpY BiRtHdAY LarrySun!!!

Oh! Thank you so much, ma'am!

I'm curious, is Wilson your maiden name? I like it.

LarrySun:
Oh! Thank you so much, ma'am!

I'm curious, is Wilson your maiden name? I like it.

Lol........yes it is and thank you for liking it

*bead - beard*

This man Larry will make the news someday, I have no reservations about this opinion. Good work bro.

Nice one Larry.

Timi got himself a change of clothes, then he lodged in a cheap hotel. With his grnadfather's money, he enjoyed the best food and drink the hotel could offer. Spending many years under close watch and limited ration had had its effect on him. Timi ate voraciously. He didn't care about his extravagant expenditure this time because he knew that he would soon become a rich young man. After having his fill of pleasant ambrosia, Timi slept early in the evening and woke up late the following day.

It was past midday of the next day when Timi rose from bed. He quickly showered, shaved and wore new clothes. He set his old shirt and trousers on fire before leaving the hotel. He went back to his grandfather's house. There was a young police officer at the entrance. Timi was denied entrance by the two police officers who manned the surroundings.

"You can't go in," explained the first policeman, "the old man living there is dead."

"What!" Timi feigned ignorance, "My grandfather is dead?" Timi was not like most of the other criminals who would have broken down and released crocodile tears. He was not programmed to exhibit such weakness. Instead of weeping, he asked the police officers what had happened.

"I'm not allowed to say. Please step back." Said the second officer.

"But I'm the old man's grandson, I have the right to go in."

"We're carrying out our orders. No one is allowed to go in."

"I want to see your superior. Kindly tell him I'm Timi Alara, the old man's grandson. I'm sure he'll want to see me."

"Wait here." The second policeman ordered and went into the house. He came out a few seconds later with a big man. Timi instantly felt threatened by the man's appearance.

"Good afternoon, young man," the man greeted and gave a charming smile.

"Good afternoon, sir," Timi responded politely.

"I am Detective Lot. Officer Kola told me you claimed to be the old man's grandson."

"Yes, sir, I am."

"What's your name?"

"Timi Alara."

"Oh, I think I remember you," Lot remarked, "Aren't you the boy who hacked his father to pieces and stuffed him in a coffin a few years ago?"

Timi gave a proud smile and said, "That was five years ago. I was cutting down on expenses."

"I thought you were in prison."

"I was released yesterday."

The detective stared at him with suspicious eyes. Timi stared back at the huge man. He knew the detective was beginning to suspect him of having something to do with his grandfather's death. He also knew that there was nothing the man could do to him if there was no evidence. And Timi was sure that he left nothing incriminating behind the previous day.

"Your grandfather died yesterday," the detective said. There was a tone of accusation behind his statement.

"That's so sad! What a coincidence! How did he die?"

The detective took a moment before replying, "It appears as if he fell down the stairs. Why don't you come in?"

Both men went into the house. There were two other men in the living room. The body had been moved but Timi could still see the trails of blood from the top of the stairs down to the floor.

"Mr Timi Alara, meet Doctor Elijah." Said Lot.

Timi ahook hands with a man who didn't look at all like a doctor. The man was dressed in a pair of blue jeans trousers and a grey T-shirt with an alligator on the left chest.

"And this is Barrister Akanni; he was your grandfather's lawyer up to his demise."

Timi shook hands with the second man who didn't look like a lawyer either. The man was dressed in local attire of Ankara, and a dented cap rested smugly on his head. He looked more like a traditional drummer than a lawyer. The man looked at Timi with eyes that studied, weighed and judged him without pretense that they were not studying, weighing and judging him. Timi flushed slightly under the frankness of the lawyer's scrutiny.

"We found a handwritten will in the old man's pocket," said Lot, "he left everything to you in the will."

Timi smiled and sat proudly on a cushion. "I'm not surprised, I'm his only surviving relative. Even if he hadn't written that, I would still inherit everything."

"I doubt that. Barrister Akanni told me the old man drew a will six months ago leaving everything to an orphanage."

"Well," Timi spread his hand, "he must have had a rethink. Family first, as the saying goes."

"The handwritten will was dated yesterday, the same day you were released. I find that suspicious."

Timi still shrugged indifferently. He has nothing on me, thought Timi confidently. "He must have done it as a welcome-back present for me. I'm sure he greatly missed me. Too bad I didn't have the chance to meet him before he died." Timi was proud of himself. He was giving the perfect replies.

"You were released yesterday, right?"

"Right."

"Where were you after your release?"

"I lodged in a hotel. You may call the hotel attendant. He will confirm my story."

"I don't need to do that," replied Lot, "I believe you—Timi Alara—killed your grandfather."

Larrysun!!!! Its seems you have a thing for detective lot oooo you always bring him back in all your stories

bigsholly:
Larrysun!!!! Its seems you have a thing for detective lot oooo you always bring him back in all your stories

I want to immortalise him.

Thank you, ma'am, for reading. It's been a while. I hope you're good.

following

Timi Alara, i must warn you, your overconfidence is worrying and your alibi is loose. Remember you committed the senicide before checking into the hotel, now how the hell are yu gonna fix that? The coroner's inquest will show the time of death was before yu got to the hotel, then you are a crook and capable of many lies and tricks!

love this...... following

Hmmm I wonder why Timi is so confident of himself. What if his grandfather wrote another will with the lawyer? Larry dearie still following#

nellyme:
Hmmm I wonder why Timi is so confident of himself. What if his grandfather wrote another will with the lawyer? Larry dearie still following#

d last will will still be used .....

Baba Larry, una well done... Your last two works (Black Maria and this) are tragedies. Why?

thumbs up to oga larry abeg update soon MAY GOD INCREASE YOU IN KNOWLEDGE

Timi scoffed. "With all due respect, sir, I think you're mad."

"No, I'm not mad. You're the mad one, remember?"

"What evidence do you have against me?"

"What you don't know, Mr Alara, is that murder is one of the hardest crimes to get away with. In the course of your careful plans, you left enough trail evidence to convict you."

This time, Timi's heart skipped a beat. But he still managed to keep a blank expression. "What are you talking about?"

"Let's start from this angle; I bet you didn't notice the old man's walking stick beside the chair when you carried him to the top of the stairs."

"What walking stick?"

"Doctor Elijah was your grandfather's doctor. He claims that the old man was so ill that he couldn't have possibly climbed the stairs without his walking stick. Besides, the man had no reason to go up those stairs. Because of his failing health, his room had been moved to the ground floor.

"Not only that, you did a very poor job in letting people believe that your grandfather fell down the stairs. Look at the blood trails on the steps. It started flowing from the very top step. That's quite illogical. Anyone who falls from the top of a staircase will not start bleeding immediately. Even if there is immediate bleeding, surely, the bleeding will not stream from the top step."

"What gives you the impression that I'm the one who did it? Did you find any fingerprint?" Timi wanted to know.

"Well, the house has been swept clean, all the fingerprints found were the deceased's."

"Then you have nothing to hold against me." Timi said with a smirk.

Lot replied, "Unfortunately for you, I do. I hold more than one thing against you. Truly, you could have successfully denied being here because there is no fingerprint to show the evidence of your presence. But there is an ointment in the fly; in the course of covering your tracks, you made a dumb error. Look at that armchair, we all know that was the chair your grandfather sat in before you knocked him unconscious. And from the two glasses of wine on that table, we can correctly deduce that he was having a drink with someone else before his death—someone who murdered him. Now, how do we determine who committed the crime? It's very simple. Thank goodness a doctor is present here. Doctor Eliah has found some traces of saliva at the edge of the second wineglass. I'm sure your saliva, Mr Alara, and the one extracted from the glass would match. And, young man, that was how you put a nail in your own coffin."

Timi stared in open-mouthed disbelief at his own foolishness. He tried to speak but no word could escape from that buccal orifice.

"No, save your breath, sir. You have no defence to make at this juncture. Now let's examine the last straw. Did you say the handwritten will was written by your grandfather?"

Timi took a moment before answering, and when he spoke his voice was croaky, "Didn't you find it in his pocket?"

"Yes, we found it where you put it."

"What nonsense are you talking about again?"

"It's futile to deny, Mr Alara. What you don't know is that the handwriting on the will is not your grandfather's."

Timi knew he was now totally sunk; he could feel the inheritance slowly slipping away from his grasp. Still, he wanted to know all the errors he had made in the course of committing the crime. He asked:

"Then whose handwriting is it?"

"That's Miss Stella Ebele's."

"Who the hell is Stella Ebele?" The name rang a distant bell in his dome, but Timi could not place where or how he came across the name. The distant chime was a very faint tinkle.

"Miss Ebele was your grandfather's personal secretary and housemaid. She used to write all your grandfather's letters and correspondences. The will found in the old man's pocket was written in Miss Ebele's calligraphy but it contained the old man's signature."

"Then it's simple," explained Timi, "My grandfather must have told her to write it. After she had written it, he must have signed under it himself."

Lot nodded as if he agreed with the criminal. Then he said, "That would have been true if not for the date."

"What's wrong with the date?"

"The will was dated yesterday—in Miss Ebele's handwriting."

"And so?"

"Miss Ebele died a week ago. Didn't you read it in the papers?"

Then Timi remembered. He had read the news of her death a week earlier when he was still in prison. The woman had died in a fatal motor accident.

"Besides," continued Detective Lot, "her obituary is pasted at the entrance. You should have taken a short time to read it when you were coming in yesterday."

The two policemen outside were summoned into the house. Timi Alara was handcuffed and led out. When they reached the door, Lot said, "This time around, Mr Alara, I assure you that you're going to hang. And for your information, I was the one who put Malaika in prison."

THE END
Copyright
©June 2015 by Larry Sun
larrysun4real@yahoo.com

This reminds of a game we used to play we we were small, called Police catch the Thief. That's exactly wats happening here. Nice one Larry

I can't help but laugh at Timi's foolishness.. short but interesting story..

so smart of d officer##good job larry ##more ink tu ur pen

God bless ur brain.

Wow...Timi you see ur life? Greediness is a disease...go back to jail where you belong...
Tnx for sharing this wonderful story dear...

To all the Timi's out there....I got a message for you all "YOU CAN'T ALWAYS GET WHAT YOU WANT"....

Expecting more from you and please update "black maria" I dey miss my blackie and basky...

I just love detective Lot. Thanks Mr. Larry

wow .. this is so so nice

Short and sweet. That is what this story is. Another beautiful one. More power to your elbow, LarrySun

wow! Kudos 2 u mr larry,i didnt knw d story was goin 2 end dis way,cos it carry suspense along wit it

Hello! A certain short story competition is ongoing and one of our best writer in NL is participating; the winner will be determined by votes. Kindly show your love by voting for his short story. Thank you and may God bless you as you do so.
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