₦airaland Forum

[quote author=Larry-Sun]Hey Sig, Lucan isn't a detective. He's only a mere police officer with an impressive IQ. I noticed you using 'Detective Lucan'.[/quote]I will have to write his promotion somewhere..they made him a detective because of his 'impressive IQ'.

[quote author=Mynd_44]Just assesments of the most mentally tiring order[/quote]Oyinbo poju...say exams!

[quote author=Larry-Sun]That's the fussion of Sigmundfreud and Shugamania. Mynd's not smiling.[/quote]Whats right with him?
Firestarr...how doest thou?

[quote author=luvmijeje][/quote]...Luvmijeje luvmitender...
*where is that guy sef?!*

Shugamania: Hallo sigmundshug..

Is that Japanese?

[quote author=Mynd_44]Liar....I have paid it in full. I even have my receipts[/quote]Full package includes the daughter?!
Abeg gimme address!

[quote author=Mynd_44]I never caused malaria[/quote]Lol...
The insecticide finally worked.
Wassap Cuddles!..
How are you doing?

[quote author=Efemena_xy]Na 30second mourning na. Typical! [/quote]Haba! What do u expect?

Ishilove: Nigga puhleeze! Lucan is still mourning the late Tracy, remember?

Yeah...in the arms of a beautiful supermodel!
[quote author=Larry-Sun]And I think Lucan and Miss Dasuntu should roll in the hay for once...just to ease tension.[/quote]My thots exactly!

wassup Shug-arry!

[quote author=Mynd_44]I saw it as so.......[/quote]Welcome back!
U were once part of the 'insanity'.

[quote author=Larry-Sun]Seconded.[/quote]Thirded.

semid4lyfe: Chapter 7 submitted by Sigmundfreud needs to be properly paragraphed & spaced out.

Will work on it...

jiraiyas: 1st i do say tanx .bt jst my problem ,wat wil u do, if wen u home for wat had jst been 4days off work nd ur mum is causin u headache ?

Sowi, i slept off.
Mums are wonderful...sometimes they try too hard and forget that the kid they knew is now a Man.
If you 've been able to cope this far, then the few yrs left before you become independent wont hurt.

jiraiyas: having a terrible evenin ,jst need a mind off taught.any1 in for chit chat ?

Am game...whats on ur mind?

How is it going Ishi?
Hope u've not killed Lucan?!

brokoto: Few? And there's a second part? Alrighty! I warned you. Lol.

The guy is a thorough editor!
Shd send some stuff to him.

[quote author=Efemena_xy]Ha! Don't make fun of me o!

Your contribution has sooo upped the stakes here, imma thinking of bowing out gracefully before I show myself up here...

This isn't your first time of writing detective fiction, is it?? [/quote]In my mind...a lot.

[quote author=Larry-Sun]Sigmund, .[/quote]Wow!
op u changed them in the copy with u?
Thanx...

habscare: Any one hear

Hello Scaryhab...

[quote author=Efemena_xy]Nice write up you've got there!

So many twists and turns ... I really do feel dizzy now.

Thumbs up to you jare for a job well done - me likey! [/quote]Thanks Madam.
Was trying to step into ur shoes...but its not my size!

horror film

Ishilove: Not bad sigmund, not bad at all. Like brokoto said, you tied up a few loose ends and gave us the answer to certain mysteries.

*deep sigh*

Let me make certain observations. I will start with Amina Dasuntu. Tracy is dead so Amina has no business banging on the door and shouting for help because the owner of the house is no longer with us and the apartment is supposed to be unoccupied. So a right thinking human being will not waste valuable time knocking or banging on the door, not plunge into the fire willy nilly like some sort of lunatic Tarzan. Even lunatics fear fire more than sane people. I totally disagree with this scenario you painted.

Lucan in Tracy's Apartment: Lucan felt a 'thud'... Wrong. Words like 'thud' are used as sound effects. We hear a 'thud', and feel a 'blow', so 'blow' is definitely more appropriate.

Your work is unparagraphed. I had to read it twice before I could get the gist of what you wrote. You prolly uploaded direct from your computer that's why it appears that way. Double paragraph it so that it won't look so jumbled.

Tense confusion and inconsistency like HBG pointed out. This tense issue is really a pain in the heinie.

I don't know what you guys mean by 'jailer'. I know that gaol officers' uniforms in Naija look like custom officers uniforms so I don't understand what you mean by the jailer's uniform looks like beggars clothes.

That aside, I had plans for Dr Sule, but I guess those plans will have to change.

Gracias Madam.
The jailer's cloth was not a uniform.
Will change the tenses..and the thud. You are on point.
The help part was covered somewhere in the write up. Other apartments were nearby..
Cant wiggle out of the Amina diving into the fire...stretched imagination perhaps.
thanks.

HumbledbYGrace: Siggy I see you...just scanned through your update.

Before I start praising you, let me start with the fact that you didn't follow protocol. Tense...

while she (sip)

It would be appropriate if you wrote; (while she sipped her freshly made papaya juice). Her beauty secret (is) that is (was) simple.


(She is) (was)

(she has) (had)

The whole story is in past tense...and did u have to write in italic

Apart from that great job and thanks for getting rid of the motician, the guy makes the hairs on my nape stands still

Thanks HBG.
Corrections noted. Will change the ones mentioned and look out for other ones.

delivered!
...kinda clumped together on the screen.Available in WORD format from Larry.
expecting feedbacks...and some blows.
now where is that my textbook?!

CHAPTER 7
DÉJÀ VU
Penthouse, Castro Hotel
17:46hours
Amina Dasuntu sat curled up in the warm bath, lounging, while she sipped her freshly made papaya juice. Her beauty secret was simple. Fresh fruit juices daily, Shea butter cream after bath and a mash of papaya on her face weekly. She smiled at the image in the mirror facing her; the cosmetic industry is the greatest scam in the world. Of course she uses some of the lotions and products she advertises but she had never left her basics.
The photo shoot had been tiring but it was well worth it and she is glad she’s done with it. The deal covered her stay @ the penthouse for an extra week. She was already billed for the H&H calendar photo shoot next week in London, one of the three black models to be featured and after that, the Paris fashion week. The perks of being a Supermodel; half of her job is just showing up!
Her path to fame had not been rosy. She had climbed the ladder of fame and success on the back of compromise; had sacrificed friendship and love and wondered if she will ever be lucky again. At 29, though 27 officially, she had started giving serious thought to settling down.
Chief Koko had been one of many; she was getting tired of his escapades and the perpetual scandals that followed him about like a plague before his death. She had begged Tracy the last time she was caught with him; when the drunken old man had lost it and groped her breast at a public function. Someone caught it on tape and Tracy had made arrangement to pay the guy off and stifled the news from been published.
Chief bought her a house at Osborne road to apologize. She had accepted the gift quite alright but not the conditions attached. Amina Dasuntu will not be the “kept woman” of any man. She had gone to his mansion as invited to discuss those terms. She had escaped the fire by a whisker.
An anonymous message warned her to leave the premises immediately and not wait for the Chief. She was baffled as the text disappeared immediately she read it and she had wasted time searching her inbox to no avail. Chief had been unreachable and the driver was not picking his calls.
She scampered off when she heard wailing and sprained her ankle in the process. Tracy’s death came as a shock; Chief’s had been a welcome relief.

She saw the flashing light of her phone and noticed she’s been lazing in the bath for 3hours. She did not bother to pick, she was not expecting anybody important. The warm water soothed her and her sprained ankle hurts less….
Something on the TV caught her eye. She was watching soap on NLTV but lost interest mid-way. Now the popular TV show “Making*A*Difference” was being aired. She saw her and shivered. She increased the volume as the host was introducing her guest:
“We have with us today the delectable socialite, politician, philanthropist, mother and friend; a woman known worldwide for championing the cause of women and advocating for the fundamental rights of the citizens of this great country. Please welcome Honorable Catherine Adams”
“Thank you very much for such an elaborate introduction Moyo; I am only doing what comes naturally to me. Women have been relegated for so long in this country and people like you are beacons of hope for generations to come” Catherine Adams effused
Moyo continued “Am sure Honorable you’ve been concerned about the spate of killings that has rocked the state and the nation at large?”
Her countenance changed and she seem sad before she replied “concern is an understatement; these issues are distressing! Especially the death of the young and brilliant Tracy Oluwami; a promising young woman whose life was cut short. And don’t forget the Senator Koko, a serving and respected Man of this country….
Amina sat up suddenly distressed. She had not linked the deaths before; how could she have been stupid!
Tracy was the only one she shared her ordeal of Chief’s burning mansion with; someone else knew she was seeing Chief. Someone that has helped push her career to lime-light…and those of several others.
She dressed up quickly. She had not lived her life ‘through the looking glass’. She picked her car keys and took a cursory look at the room and noticed her phone again. She picked it up and noticed six missed calls from Susannah and Enoh. “What do they want this time?” she muttered. She logged on the internet and posted her quote of the day.
“Oh what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive” …Amina Dasuntu
She did not wait for reply and rushed out of the room.
******************************************************************************
Beyond the walls
21:10 hours
Lucan’s eyes darted to and fro as he made his way through the dark alley. Low lives and delinquents litter the street like dirt, not minding the trash house of humans awaiting their lot he just emerged from. A dog’s incessant barking interrupts the vamoosing sounds of vehicles from a highway close by.
His mind raced as his eyes scanned ahead of him. He fitted well with the environment; the jailer’s cloth was like that of a premium road side beggar; people pass by unless they have something to offer.
He had been out for about 30minutes, he surmised, and he had no doubt everyman on the force will soon be looking for him. He had figured out some things while he was in the cell. The call was not from the Chief. He was too connected to think of a pawn like him and David had told him of ways that could have been done. The Chief died shortly after the call, which meant the killer was taunting him and wanted to lure him to the case. That also explained why his name and number was at the scene. Heck! Nobody kills someone and leave a business card.
He ran images and patterns through his mind but came up with nothing. Everything pointed to Tracy and yet he had nothing to go on with.
“Tracy…” he called her name and sighed. He’s yet to figure out why she died; or how. He had a feeling what he will find out will not be pleasant. He sighed again. He found 700naira in the jailer’s pocket. He will have to get a phone and more money.
His mind was clearer than the path that lay ahead of him; tonight darkness is an ally.
******************************************************************************
Morgue, Central Hospital.
21:15 hours
He walked stealthily into the basement of the morgue and let himself into the morgue. He was activated 24hours ago and had been waiting for about an hour. The message was simple but he understood.
“Let it rain”…He checked again to be sure the deal was still on. He had been on the tail of the mortician for a week and knows his predilection for night work. He admire him; the mortician, and felt a twinge of anxiety about the impending event. The smell of chloroform and death filled the air and had a calming effect on him. He approached the door with his bag of tricks clutched under his arm underneath a cleaner’s overall. He heard the clattering of metals and was temporarily distracted; he struck his left foot and held his breath to hold his cry. The man was already at work.
What was that superstition again? Left, bad luck; right, good luck? He smiled “Superstition is the religion of feeble minds” he quoted Burke under his breath and he opened the door.
****************************************************************************
Lucan alighted a few meters from the central hospital and made his way towards the morgue. The mortician knew something, he was sure. What he was not sure of was how easy it will be to get it out of him and how far he was willing to go. The man will not scare easily but he definitely will get it out of him.
He was close to the morgue, he could tell; the smell was turning his gut. He turned the knob and it opened. He paused, that was easy, he thought. He could feel his heart galloping as he stepped into the hallway. It was a reception area and was sparsely furnished and poorly lit. No point in being extravagant for the dead he thought. He walked towards another door that was partly opened and the image that welcomed him took him aback.
Right before him was the mortician astride a female body on a stretcher. There was blood the mortician’s back; fresh. The body was warm. He guessed the death had occurred within the hour, give or take 15minutes. Intuitively, he knew the death had to do with Tracy; someone had made sure no amount of torture will make him talk, ever.
He looked around searching for clues. He noticed the opened compartment and empty inner cabinet. Then he saw it. Close to the wheel was a token, hidden by the wheel cover. He picked it up to examine it closely but heard sounds approaching from outside. An alarm went off in his brain. He must not be found here.
He quickly slipped out of the door into the dimly lit reception area and hid behind the door, heart pounding and his whole body tense, poised to strike. The door opened with creaking sound, slowly, as if the intruder was ambivalent about coming in.
The night cleaner sauntered in, wheeling his trolley, with earphones plugged into his ears. Lucan relaxed and allowed himself a deep breath. The music filtered out from the cleaner’s earphone and Lucan could hear 9ice’s song ∫Gongo aso, otiso, ewo ‘le ewo enu oko∫….he slipped quietly out of the door and into the night.
He was about 50 paces away when he heard shouts and hurried feet. He didn’t look back
*****************************************************************************
Lucan half ran/half walked away from the Morgue; his mind outpacing his legs, as he worked theories from all angles. He was late getting there, Damn it! Thirty minutes and he would have caught the killer, who possibly is Tracy’s killer. Now he has nothing and is back to square one, except the token in his pocket. He noticed he was exhausted and panting and the gnawing pangs of hunger had become unbearable. He had five hundred naira left from the jailer’s money and saw a food canteen ahead. A police siren wailed close by and he felt jittery. He is a man of law on the run from the law, how time changes things.
“Tracy…what have you been up to?” He spoke out loud.
“Guy, watch where you dey go o!” A man shouted at him. He mumbled thanks and crossed the road to the other side. The food can wait.
.****************************************************************************
Tracy’s apartment.
22:14hours
His arm hurt but there was still an assignment to be completed this night. He slipped into Tracy’s apartment. The room was as he had left it the last time and he went straight to her bathroom. He liked the place; the feminine fragrance reminds him of home and his mother. This lady sure knew how to live life, he thought.
The house was a serviced apartment and very private. Several other adjoining flats were around but everyone minded their business. The pain brought him back to life and he went through her drug cabinet to get a pain killer. He was about to swallow the tablet when he heard the sound of a key turning in the door.
****************************************************************************
Lucan opened the door with Tracy’s spare key which she kept barely buried in the middle flower pot. He stepped in and memories flooded him, he felt weak and almost collapsed. He held the wall for support as he moved slowly towards the sofa.
He sensed a presence and felt unsettled. He took such things serious. It has saved his life more than once. His alertness went up several notches. He did not know what to look for but he was sure something here will lead him closer to unraveling the mystery.
His eyes scanned the shelf and settled on the pink diary. He had a copy of that and she had promised to tell him its significance someday. He walked towards the shelf and a flurry of movement caught his eye; he was not fast enough. He felt a blow and passed out.
***************************************************************************
Amina slowly eased her RAV4 into the driveway. The car was just 6months old; a gift from the business Mogul who owns the Castro hotel. She sat in the car thinking; she was overstepping her boundary. Perhaps she should just go to the police and tell them what she knew. It was a long shot. She had no proof to substantiate any allegation but she guessed all the proof she needed will be in Tracy’s pink diary. Each of them had a duplicate and they often take it out on occasion. The other was for keeps, and never out of sight. In it they have numbers not stored on phones or any other place. They contain information that kept the “BODY” going.
She was still contemplating when she noticed a building was on fire. She heard a car zooming off on her far right and looked again at the house on the left. She panicked. It was Tracy’s apartment. The event that followed happened as if she was programmed. She jumped out of her car and ran towards the apartment. It was dark but the window glowed in the darkness as she approached. She heard an explosion and recoiled, temporarily. The door was jammed and she pounded on it as she shouted for help but there was no one in sight. The fire was spreading and the curtains were golden yellow. She noticed a smoke outlet at the back and approached it. She covered her eyes with her shawl and dived in.
******************************************************************************
Police headquarters, Briefing room
04:04 hours
“Focus guys!”
Voice thundered out of the wispy mouth of Asst. Chief Inspector Jaiye Brown, known as JayB for short. The briefing room acoustics amplified his deep rich voice as sound travel back and forth on the walls and around the 11 people in the room. He smiled, he had their attention now, the call to summon the tag-team came in 30minutes ago and they all had to be awakened from their sleep or whatever they were doing.
JayB is the arm of the law; a professional to the core who played strictly by the rules which had seen him sidelined several times, perhaps a quality that made him the best man for this assignment. Not that it bothered him; not even the side comment of being “all brawn and no brain”. Brawn he was alright but underestimate his brain at your own peril.
The call came from the Minister of internal affairs, a close friend of his; the death of Chief Koko had unsettled the polity. A major power shake was imminent and the police was perceived to be dawdling. They had bypassed Chief Inspector Ibe and that sent a clear message; he was no longer in the good books of the powers that be. He mused at his summation, perhaps it was time to step-up.
“Am sure you have all heard detective Lucan escaped from his cell last night” he barked out as he looked into their eyes one by one and could feel their anticipation, he has earned it. As Assistant Chief of police and after 22years of unblemished record he has some clout about him; and if he had danced a few political tunes could have been chief inspector himself.
“What you have not heard” he paused for effect “is that it is my job, our jooobbb! is to find his ar*ss and haul him back to his cell”. Murmurs from the breath of the officers as they rambled incomprehensibly “I don’t care for your sentiments about his guilt or not” he barked out again “what I do care about…” “Is the rule of law!” they all chorused as if rehearsed.
“Last night…” he continued as he delivered the information like an enigmatic professor
“….the reputable Dr. Suleiman was found dead in his lab, few hours after Lucan’s escape”
He raised his hand to stifle the bouts of murmur about to escape from their mouth.
“I don’t believe in coincidence or chance happenings; I believe in proof and evidence. If there is a connection between these events, our job is to find it”.
His eyes roved till they settled on David who was hunched over on the desk taking note.
“The faster we get answers, the better for all of us!”
“Now detective Lucan needs no introduction, we are all aware of his achievements and capabilities; he is to be brought in alive. Force should be used only when necessary; remember he is one of us; we have dined and wined with him; rubbed his shoulders and patted his back. He will be expecting us and is probably a step ahead”. He scanned the room again checking if his message sank in “plainclothes are already at his apartment just in case he surface and his file is been tooth-combed by internal affairs”
“Inspector David!” David glanced up from his note to see the upturned nose of JayB breathing on his head “you are in charge of forensics and you report directly to me” “yessir!” came the curt reply from him as he closed the note. “You are to go with your team to the Lab and see what we can get from Dr. Suleiman…or whatever is left of him”.
“Inspector Samuel!” He called out to the dark skinny man on his far left fiddling with his phone. Samuel Akpan has been the head of communications for 5years now. He hardly seat elsewhere or look up from his phone but can reel out the whole meeting without pausing for breath.
“You will be in charge of COMMS as usual and will report directly to me”
“Any question?” He asked with a sardonic smile. “None; we reconvene in 24hrs!”
*****************************************************************************
Morgue, Central Hospital
05:00 hours
The light was bright for an early morning and the whole place buzzed as hospital staffs and Police mingled. David was troubled and he could barely hide it. Not that the task at hand was unsettling but his thoughts were on the events of the last 8hours. He expected Lucan to have called, but there has been no word from him. He had waited up since he picked the news of his escape on the internal frequency and was shocked when the call came from JayB to report @ 04:00 hrs. He was not cleared for that level of information but his superior is on leave and he was not recalled; another nagging thing on his mind.
He adjusted his spectacles as he focused on the scene before his eyes. He was trained abroad in crime scene forensics during his attachment with the Metropolitan Police Service in London and the words of Dr. Letterman rang in his ears. “Every crime scene tells a story, you don’t want to add your own”.
He shook hands with the director of the hospital who filled him in on the background.
The alarm was raised by the night cleaner; no, he didn’t see or hear anything. He alerted the security immediately. He will be available for questioning if needed.
“Gloves” he said, as he extended his hand to one of the two assistants that followed him. He quickly put it on as he walked closer to the body of the mortician. He checked the doors, no sign of a forced entry. The door would have been locked; nobody does what he had in front of him with the door open.
Scan of the room revealed an opened compartment and a scattered inner cabinet on the wall. He motioned to Nuhu to capture those as he clicked away on the body.
“I will need an inventory of the items in the lab and a quick check if anything is missing”
There were two bodies in a rather grotesque pose for the dead, David observed. The mortician was astride a female body on a stretcher with his hairy b#utt exposed. A closer look at the female revealed a light complexioned beauty in her mid thirties, with a gash on the side of her head; probably from a RTA. She was cleaned up and looked as if she was resting in peace.
David shifted his attention to the mortician, ignoring the noise of the crowd growing outside as the daybreaks.
He was wearing a white singlet stained on the right side with blood, extending to the back, around the mid chest. His head nestled comfortably between the cushion of the female’s b/r/e/*ast. Over his head was a transparent bag with the usual warning of the risk of asphyxiation and to be kept away from children.
This was no child. Dr Suleiman was 47 and what he was doing with the bag was not child’s play.
“What do you think Charles?” he spoke to the assistant without removing his eyes from the bodies.
“Autoerotic asphyxiation Sir” Charles responded.
“I won’t bet on the auto” he said calmly.
“I think the killer met him in a compromising position and added the bag as a twist. He was probably in the office waiting for him”. “Get a list of everybody with access to this lab in the last week, heck! Make it 2weeks”he paused as something caught his eye “Coordinate with OPs to get them interviewed and get the ID of the woman”
He noticed the blood was thicker at the back and instinctively checked the floor; it was moped clean but a dot or two of blood stained the trolley. He pointed it out to his assistant who got to work immediately on the sample.
The doctor fought back and probably stabbed his killer. He probably got an artery or a big vein due to the jet of blood on the thick part. Remarkable, for a man in that position. If not for that, it would have been assumed his death was accidental; an autoerotic asphyxiation of a necrophilic. He made a mental note to go over the details of the other murders.
“I wonder what started first” blurted out Charles “was he a mortician because he was necrophilic or he developed it after?”
David forced a smile. It will be worthwhile to go over Dr. Suleiman’s phone record, something he will bring up at the briefing with Samuel Akpan.
“I wonder what we will find when we take a closer look; you don’t do this kind of job without having one or two loose nuts up there” He checked his watch and noticed he had been there for 90minutes.
“Let’s finish and get out of here” he said as he turned his focus back to the body
The mouth was wide open and the bag closed the space between him and air. He saw the eyes staring into space with tiny deep blue veins underneath the clear white conjunctiva. The darker part of his eyes bulged and he could almost feel the anguish of the last moment. Dr. Suleiman had seen a death he was not familiar with; his own.
******************************************************************************
The Den
07:00hours
Ayodele laid calmly on his bed as he reflected over the events of last night; the mortician and Lucan. He had come home and released himself; it was intense just like his day .His armhad stopped throbbing and the pain was a reminder now. He had been caught off guard by the mortician and the man had stabbed him with a scalpel; a lucky shot at that. His mind went back to the superstition and he quickly discarded it. People get punished when they are careless. He was careless, period.
He had been hiding in the reception when the mortician came in through his private door and checked if the door was locked from outside; his usual practice. He waited till he heard the clattering of metals before he entered.
He saw the mortician plunging away between the dead woman’s thigh and the image of his fantasy came to him. He crept silently behind him and covered the face and tightened the bag before he could react. The mortician was a thin man with lithe body. He had struggled to remove the bag and suddenly went limp. He had relaxed his grip a little and felt a stab in his arm, the blade deflected downward by his clavicle; the bastard had aimed for his neck. He had held on for 5mins…he knew he needed just 3 but just to be sure. He had pressed his arm to the mortician’s back to stop the bleeding. He made sure he was dead and ransacked the room for the document which he found in the cabinet. He left no print, he was sure; not that the police were that competent but he hated being sloppy.
He was high on adrenaline and forgot the pain in his hand momentarily. The bag dropped when he picked it up with his injured hand and his paraphernalia scattered on the floor. He had painstakingly picked them with one hand and cleaned drops of blood on the tiled floor with his handkerchief.
He had hurried to Tracy’s apartment to get the pink diary and all was well until he heard the turning key and saw Lucan walked in. He was surprised and excited. He was not a match for Lucan in a fair fight; he is not that delusional, he chuckled.
The blow was meant for the back of his head but he caught his temple instead. He had searched his pocket out of curiosity and found the token. That had shocked him; he didn’t realize it was missing. He had taken the pink dairy and left Lucan with his trademark; he set the place on fire.
The buzzing of the phone jolted him out of his reverie. He checked the new message: “stormy weather”
******************************************************************************
Police headquarters
08:00 hours
Chief inspector Ibe was livid! A meeting of such significance had held under his command without him being informed. He puffed and his breathing was almost grunting. He picked up his phone and called his secretary.
“Get JayB into my office immediately!” he bellowed.
“Sir, he has not reported in morning” she calming replied.
“Just tell him to come to my office immediately you see him” he barked back and slammed the phone. “Jesus Christ! What insubordination!!” He picked his phone and called his wife.
**************************************************************************
“David here” he replied as he picked the call at first ring. “Okay”… “No problem”.
“That was the MD of central hospital. The woman in the tango was Felicia Ambrose. She died in a road traffic accident 2 days ago and she has just been ID’d by her husband” he informed his assistants.
“They don’t want the tryst in the news and I think it’s better for all concerned”.
“How is the interview at OPs going Charles?” he asked
“They started an hour ago; we will be informed as soon as they get something” Charles replied.
“Get the phone logs of…” he was cut off by the ringing of his phone.
“Hello” He answered curtly. He listened for a while and then replied “thank you very much, we will be there shortly”
“Another fire, boys; this thing is beginning to have a pattern. No body at the scene this time; let’s go”
******************************************************************************
Osborne road
08:00 hours
Lucan’s consciousness crept back slowly; he felt his head was heavy and throbbing and his vision, blurry. He was tired but could perceive the smell of plantain and fish stew close by. He salivated as his stomach churned. His thinking was clouded.
He remembered he was at Tracy’s apartment and he was walking to her shelf when he felt something hard on his head. Faintly, he had seen a first familiar image over his head; someone from his past. That passed rather quickly. He remembered feeling intense heat, and choked…had faintly heard a persistent knock on the door and muffled scream; as dark clouds approached him…then darkness.
Then a dragging sensation, as if he was being moved. He had felt relief as the heat dissipated and his chest tightness reduced. Then the other image appeared; déjà vu. The face emerged from the dark cloud above his head; it was his dream. The dimensional boundary was broken and at that moment, he could not tell the difference…then the dragging again and darkness.
He opened his eyes slowly and a grandfather clock stood before his eyes. He followed the pendulum for a while...as he wondered when the dream will end. He allowed his eyes explore further…sitting a few inches away from him, was the woman of his dream.
END OF CHAPTER 7

Ishilove: Siggy, I see you lurking like an evil monitor spirit. How far?

Soon and very soon...
I think i know how u are feeling. U dont want to think too much cos ur plans might change..
Will update in 30mins or less....
So that i can have my life back!

HumbledbYGrace: you can get me a book by the Nairaland writers collabos. In paperback

Iam ready to baptize the model jare

What?!
you want to turn Aminat into Sister Grace?!!!
Maybe i shd just kill her and then u can raise her from the dead!

am on page 6, with 2718 words. Am stuck somewhere. I came here to clear my head.

HumbledbYGrace: relax m chilled

Stay Chilled..but dont freeze.

[quote author=Foxy_Ultimate]No way... Ayodele has to see the end of the tale, killing him off will take the active villian out. He needs to kill more, probably kill someone I will creat called LanreLarry [/quote]I agree.
Before we write next round (if am still around)...i think we shd edit some stuff we ve noticed in the plot. Ayodele's name and 300L for instance! Then Lucan's height(he's now 5'11, for my purpose; or how else will the SuperModel fall for his Charm?!) and so on.

[quote author=Foxy_Ultimate]She is not to write on her birthday but submit her already finished work that day, so tell why she wants to use such a threatening tone?[/quote]If u know the deal that was struck to get her back on board, then u will excuse her for not writing when shez...*nuff*

full house!
Good morning everybody.