Good night wonderful readers

Books coming to an end.

Its time ladies and gentlemen.

CHAPTER 8 CONFRONTATIONS UNVEILED



The school grounds were cloaked in an eerie silence as Detective Akin made his way through the darkened corridors, his senses heightened by the palpable tension in the air.

He had called Julius to send in officers, suspecting that the final act of this mystery was about to unfold within the walls of the school already Mrs. Sheila had gone missing and couldn't be reached at her apartment.

As he approached the main building, a sense of foreboding settled over him like a shroud.

The usual hustle and bustle of the school had given way to an unsettling stillness. Akin's footsteps echoed through empty halls, a stark contrast to the vibrant chaos that had once defined this space.

He reached the security office, hoping to find answers or perhaps an officer on duty. To his surprise, the room stood vacant, monitors flickering with ghostly static aside from the dried smell of blood where the body of Davies had been moved from.

Akin's breath hung in the cold air as he realized that something was amiss, and the specter of danger loomed in the shadows.

With a cautious determination, he equipped himself with a torch lying around carelessly around the scene, its beam cutting through the inky darkness.

The corridor stretched before him like a silent witness to the unfolding events.

Akin advanced, each step echoing in the quietude, resonating with the weight of anticipation.

The distant sounds of movement reached his ears, a subtle cadence that beckoned him toward the laboratory property.

Akin navigated the labyrinthine passages, guided by the distant echoes. The beam of his torch danced across the walls, revealing remnants of a festive atmosphere—forgotten decorations and traces of the Christmas celebration that had once filled these spaces with mirth.

As he approached the laboratory area, he immediately caught sight of a bike parked carefully on one side, the plate number had matched with that parked at the wizard's house, a dim light flickered, casting long shadows that seemed to dance in tandem with his own movements.

Akin steeled himself, recognizing the gravity of the impending encounter. The laboratory property, a canvas of hidden secrets, awaited its revelation.

The barbed wired fenced property had its door opened wide, revealing the vastness of the property which was bushy. Akin's switched off the torch, letting the moon reveal a tableau of ominous stillness.

The silence was broken only by the faint murmur of voices—an unsettling chorus that hung in the air like a haunting refrain.

Moving cautiously through the uncompleted laboratory building, Akin's senses honed in on the source of the hushed conversation. He produced his pistol and approached a secluded corner, concealed by the labyrinthine shelves and forgotten experiments of the past. There, in the half-light, figures emerged from the shadows.


Mrs. Sheila, and The wizard of wonders, their faces etched with a blend of apprehension and desperation.

In the center of their clandestine assembly was a dirty old cement bag and shovels.

"Hold it right there!"

Akin's presence disrupted the clandestine gathering, drawing a collective gasp from those ensnared in the act.

The beam of his torch illuminated their faces, each reflecting a spectrum of emotions—guilt, fear, and a desperate resolve.

The silence that followed was thick with unspoken truths.

CONT'D




Akin's piercing gaze moved from Mrs. Sheila to the wizard, both frozen in the stark light of the laboratory.

The bag at their feet lay exposed, its contents spilling the tale of stolen secrets and ill-gotten gains. Bundles of money, neatly stacked, whispered of the misdeeds that had unfolded within the shadowed corridors of the school.

With a firm resolve, Akin demanded, "I see you both found the money after all," His voice cut through the tense air, a command that brooked no disobedience.

Mrs. Sheila's attempt to deflect blame fell on deaf ears as Akin meticulously unraveled the web of deception that bound the unholy alliance.

"You planned this together," Akin declared, his words slicing through the silence. "Vincent was your pawn, Mrs. Sheila, selected to carry out the heist by Oga Benji, this I believe was never the plan, your inside man, your wizard over there should have bee the one yet somehow oga Benji chooses Vincent while Davies and Matthew were busy with their own sinister agendas."

Mrs. Sheila's eyes darted nervously, her façade unraveling with each word Akin spoke. The wizard, still clutching remnants of his elusive charm, cast a furtive glance at the money, his expression a mixture of guilt and anxiety.

"You see," Akin continued, "Vincent wasn't your average thief, Davies was going to get him, he had to look for somewhere to hide the money and what better place would be the one place that was sealed off, the one place where he accidentally caused the death of another laborer allegedly. He hid the stolen money, the location unbeknownst to you and your accomplice here."

Akin's gaze lingered on the wizard, who shifted uncomfortably under the weight of his complicity.

"Davies and Matthew," Akin continued, connecting the dots with precision, "Mathew thought he was in the clear and was too happy to let things go but Davies and You unwittingly were searching for the same thing, you both planned a secret double cross. Mrs. Sheila, you and the wizard had your own plan—a plan that involved betraying Vincent and taking the money for yourselves, of course Poor Vincent had just one good opportunity with Davies around he could never have returned back till this year's Christmas party, Whilst The wizard entertained the crowd, you, Mrs Sheila was going to stalk him once he made his move except Davies somehow had caught up with him, I supposed the old man wanted a quicker way than lying about farming, he was supposed to meet him and discuss how to go about it, you couldn't let that happen, could you?" Akin's words cut through the labyrinth of lies, exposing the dark corners where greed and treachery had thrived.


" I didn't kill him, " Mrs Sheila replied defiantly.

" Yes you did,That and Mr. Davies was all on you, Mrs Sheila, Your lackey here too had some murders on his cv as well although whilst on the orders of oga Benji, he had his own purpose, your purpose,"


The tension in the laboratory escalated as the characters found themselves ensnared in the unraveling narrative.


"You killed him before Mr. Davies could meet up with him but you had become a suspect to Mr davies, he must have figured you were on it the when time and probably tried to confront you, you took him out for been too nosy and somehow you guys figured the location had to be this building, "

The wizard, realizing the gravity of his involvement, attempted to conjure words of defense, but Akin silenced him with a stern gaze. "Your martial arts won't work here, you move, I blow your brains out" Akin asserted. "You played your part in this sinister well but I don't think you would have made it out alive, "

As the truth hung in the air, Akin seized the bag of money, a tangible artifact that bore witness to the unraveling conspiracy it was at that moment Mrs. Sheila pulled out a small locally made pistol from her purse and fired at the detective.

The laboratory, once a sanctuary of learning, had become the stage for a macabre drama of survival.

CONT'D



Pain seared through Akin's left shoulder, the shot had gone cleanly through.

Mrs Sheila and missed his face by mere fraction, The gunshot echoed through the laboratory, a testament to the tumult that had engulfed the once-quiet space.

Akin winced, feeling the warmth of his own blood seep through his fingers as he clutched the gunshot wound.

The wizard made a quick attempt to launch another attack with his shovel but Akin gave him no chance, clutching hard his pistol's trigger, he let out one single shot.

The wizard, now felled by a fatal shot to the neck, lay sprawled on the floor, the allure of his deceptive charms forever extinguished.

Akin, though wounded, pushed himself up from the cold laboratory floor, a dogged determination in his eyes.

As he staggered forward, following the erratic path Mrs. Sheila had taken, his instincts sharpened. The bag of stolen money had become a talisman of escape for Mrs. Sheila, and Akin knew he couldn't let her slip away.

Akin, fueled by a mix of pain and purpose, moved through the labyrinthine corridors of the school, his senses attuned to the slightest sound that might betray Mrs. Sheila's location.

Through dimly lit hallways and echoing passages, Akin pressed on, each step accompanied by a sharp reminder of the gunshot wound that throbbed with every heartbeat. The urgency of the chase heightened as Mrs. Sheila's desperate cries for escape echoed through the empty corridors.

CONT'D




The night air crackled with tension as Mrs. Sheila, desperation etched across her face, fired another shot in Akin's direction just as soon as Akin had come within reaching distance.

The bullet whizzed past him, prompting Akin to seek refuge behind a concrete pillar, his wounded shoulder protesting each move.

"Stay back!" Mrs. Sheila's voice trembled, a volatile mix of fear and defiance. Her eyes darted nervously, scanning the darkened courtyard for signs of escape.

Akin, shielded momentarily by the pillar, knew that the approaching police siren was his only ally, a dissonant melody heralding the inevitability of justice.

Akin, his voice calm yet resolute, called out from behind cover. "Mrs. Sheila, it doesn't have to end this way. The police are coming. Surrender, and we can resolve this without more bloodshed."

Sheila's response was another gunshot, the sound reverberating through the still night. The bullet ricocheted off the pillar, a stark reminder of the danger that lurked within the shadows.

Akin winced, pain shooting through his injured shoulder, but his determination remained unbroken.

As the distant wail of sirens drew nearer, Akin seized the opportunity to reason with Mrs. Sheila. "You can't escape this, Mrs. Sheila. Let's talk. Put the gun away,"

Sheila, her eyes glistening with a blend of tears and rage, scoffed at Akin's attempt at conversation. "Talk? You think talking changes anything? Look at this place, this life! I've been treated like dirt my entire existence. It's time I took what I deserve,"

Akin, steadying himself against the pain, pressed on. "Taking what you deserve doesn't justify murder and theft. Put the damn gun away, now! "

In the growing distance, the flashing lights of police vehicles heralded the impending arrival of law enforcement. Sheila's resolve wavered, caught between the relentless pursuit of a life she believed she deserved and the encroaching consequences of her actions.

"I've seen enough misery, Detective. Poverty, abuse, humiliation. It's time for me to taste the good life. I won't let anyone stand in my way," Sheila declared, her voice tinged with bitterness.

Akin, aware of the delicate balance between negotiation and imminent danger, carefully chose his words. "There are better paths to change, Mrs. Sheila. This isn't the solution. Let's end this peacefully. Think about the consequences for everyone involved."

The police sirens blared closer, drowning out the echoes of gunfire. Sheila, caught in the crossroads of her choices, weighed the gravity of the situation. The stolen money lay forgotten on the courtyard floor, a symbol of misguided aspirations and shattered illusions.

CONT'D


"There is no way out of this, Mrs. Sheila, you know it's over," Akin reminded her.

"I know, Tell my daughter that I am sorry and that I love her," She sobbed before Akin heard another gun shot.

In the eerie aftermath of the gunshot, the courtyard fell into a heavy silence.

Mrs. Sheila's lifeless body lay sprawled on the ground, the echo of her final plea lingering in the air.

Akin, startled by the abrupt end, felt the weight of the night press upon him.

"Tell my daughter I love her," were Mrs. Sheila's last words, a haunting message that reverberated through Akin's thoughts.

As the acrid scent of gunpowder hung in the air, Akin knew that this tragic chapter had reached its somber conclusion.

The police officers rushed in, their urgency met with the stark reality of a scene now frozen in melancholy. Julius, entering the courtyard, surveyed the tableau of sorrow and whispered to Akin, "Is it over, Detective? "

Akin nodded, his expression a mixture of relief and sorrow.

The relentless pursuit of justice had led to a cascade of tragedies, leaving behind a trail of shattered lives and broken dreams. The distant crackle of fireworks filled the night sky, a stark contrast to the somber scene playing out below.

As the officers secured the area, Akin walked away from the haunting tableau.

The pressure that had clung to his shoulders throughout the investigation now lifted, replaced by a profound sense of both closure and lingering regret. The weight of the choices made and the consequences faced settled upon him like the chill of the night.

The eve of Christmas unfolded, the sky illuminated by bursts of colorful fireworks that seemed to dance in celebration, oblivious to the darkness that had unfolded below. Akin, weary yet resolute, stepped into the cool night air, his mind a tumultuous sea of emotions.

As he walked away from the scene, the distant sounds of revelry and joy underscored the harsh reality of a world where shadows coexisted with celebration.

The pursuit of truth had exacted a toll, and Akin couldn't escape the awareness that some mysteries, once unraveled, left scars that lingered long after the case was closed.

CONT'D



The crisp morning air greeted Akin as he parked his car outside the familiar precinct of the Ogbasia police station.

A week had passed since the shadows of the Igidah case had dissipated, and now the detective found himself at a crossroads.

The decision to resign from the force and embark on a new chapter of his life lingered heavily on his mind.

As Akin ascended the worn steps leading to the entrance, he took a moment to appreciate the surroundings he had grown accustomed to over the years. The station, a bastion of law and order, stood as a silent witness to the myriad of cases he had tackled, each one leaving its mark on his journey as a detective.

The morning sunlight filtered through the canopy of trees, casting dappled patterns on the pavement. Akin's footsteps echoed in the quietude, a rhythmic cadence that seemed to resonate with the profound decisions he had made in the wake of the Igidah mystery.

The familiar faces of colleagues greeted him as he entered the station, a mix of nods and knowing glances acknowledging the seasoned detective's presence. Akin, however, felt a sense of detachment, as if the walls of the precinct were no longer able to contain the aspirations that now stirred within him.

Making his way to his desk, Akin saw the remnants of a life dedicated to solving crimes. Case files neatly stacked, the whir of a distant printer, and the soft hum of conversation among colleagues created a tableau of routine. But Akin knew that his time in this familiar setting was drawing to a close.

Seated at his desk, he stared at the badge that had been his companion through countless investigations.

The polished emblem, once a symbol of honor and duty, now seemed to carry the weight of a decision that transcended the precinct's walls.

Akin's gaze shifted to the framed photograph of his wife, Lucia, which adorned the corner of his desk.

The memory of her radiant smile and the impending arrival of their triplets were the driving forces behind his choice to step away from the tumultuous world of crime-solving.

With a measured breath, Akin took out the resignation letter he had carefully penned over the week. The words on the page conveyed a sense of gratitude for the years spent in service, but also a firm resolve to pursue a different path.

As he walked toward the office of Superintendent Babatunde Ayefele, the DPO, Akin felt a mix of emotions – anticipation, nostalgia, and a tinge of apprehension. The decision to leave behind the badge that had become synonymous with his identity was not taken lightly.

Superintendent Ayefele looked up from his paperwork as Akin entered the office. The seasoned detective could sense the curiosity in the DPO's eyes, an unspoken question about the sudden change of course in Akin's career.

"Detective Akin," Ayefele greeted, a mix of formality and familiarity in his tone. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Akin extended the resignation letter, the weight of his decision evident in the steady way he handed it over. "Sir, I've decided to resign from the force. I've been offered a lecturer position, and I believe it's time for a new chapter."

The DPO, taking the letter, studied Akin for a moment before nodding. "You've served with distinction and passion for the force, Detective and I understand your need for doing this but I think there is something you need to see first, it came in yesterday's night, I was going to send someone to you but since you are here, "


Confused, Akin watched as Ayefele reached for an envelope on his desk. With a deliberate motion, the D.P.O. handed it to him. Akin took it, the paper crisp beneath his fingers. The words on the envelope immediately caught his attention: "State Criminal Investigation Bureau, Abuja."

His heart quickened as he tore open the envelope, revealing a letter addressed to him. Akin's eyes scanned the words, absorbing the astonishing revelation that he had been promoted officially to the position of a detective and was now in demand by the State Criminal Investigation Bureau in Abuja.

Akin's initial shock transformed into a complex mix of emotions. The promotion, the transfer to Abuja – it was more than he had ever envisioned. The words of the letter painted a picture of recognition and acclaim for his exceptional work, particularly citing his last case, which had reverberated far and wide.

The D.P.O., observing Akin's reaction, spoke with a knowing smile. "Your last case, Detective, has etched your name in the annals of our profession. You've become a symbol of dedication and excellence. Abuja recognizes talent when they see it, not every good deed goes unnoticed in this profession, "

Akin's mind raced, grappling with the unexpected turn of events. The decision he had thought was his to make had been influenced by a force beyond his anticipation. He felt the weight of the responsibility that came with such an honor.

Akin's thoughts danced between the familiarity of his resignation letter and the allure of a promotion that beckoned him to new horizons. The precinct, once a comfortable cocoon, now seemed like a launching pad to unexplored heights.

The D.P.O. offered a supportive nod. "Take your time, Detective. Your decision is yours to make, and either path will be a testament to your capabilities."

As Akin exited the office, he found himself standing at the precipice of two diverging roads. The familiar faces and routines of the Ogbasia police station whispered tales of the past, while the letter in his hand spoke of a promising future in the heart of Nigeria's capital.

Seated at his desk, he weighed the significance of both choices. The camaraderie of his colleagues, the daily grind, and the essence of his current role beckoned him to stay. On the other hand, the recognition, challenges, and prestige of a detective in Abuja teased him with the allure of the unknown.

As he contemplated, Akin realized that sometimes life's decisions were not black and white. The shades of gray blurred the lines between duty, ambition, and personal aspirations. The precinct, with its faded walls and familiar faces, held memories that were an integral part of his identity. Yet, the allure of Abuja tugged at his sense of professional achievement.

Akin knew that the crossroads he stood at marked a pivotal moment in his career. The letter in his hand symbolized recognition and a call to new adventures, while the resignation letter on his desk echoed the comfort of the known.

In the end, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Akin's decision unfolded like the plot of a suspenseful novel. The precinct held a chapter of his life, and Abuja promised an unwritten tome of possibilities. The choice was his, and the pages of his story awaited the ink of his decision. The end, for now, was a prelude to a new beginning.

With those words, Akin felt a sense of closure settle over him. The decision, once looming on the horizon, was now formalized. As he exited the DPO's office, the station's familiar sounds seemed to carry a different resonance – a symphony of memories that had shaped his journey.

Walking out into the sunlight, Akin took one last look at the Ogbasia police station, a place that had been both a sanctuary and a battleground. The choice to resign or take up the promotion marked the end of an era, but as


he drove away from the precinct, Akin couldn't help but feel the stirrings of anticipation for the uncharted path that lay ahead.

THE END.

THE END

COPYRIGHTS RESERVED 2023®


I could never had done it without God Almighty's support and you guys reading.

Thank You All.

Why didn't i come across this earlier? Thank you for this man.

Every good deeds one does, is always recorded and awarded at the appropriate time.