Fifty-Six

Joe Duncan starts the bike, and Chris gets down.

He puts a hand on the young man's shoulder, and speaks quietly.

"Listen, Joe. Something bad went down tonight. Somebody tried to frame me big time. You saved me, pal, and I'm grateful."

Joe Duncan grins from ear to ear.

"Don't worry, boss. I knew they were gonna try some stunt like that. I'm cool, and I've got your back. My lips are sealed. Just kick the ass of Crankboss. And then, later, if you can take a selfie with me, it'll be great."

Chris nods. Miracles still exist.

"Pass by JUNIOR'S anytime, Joe. Bring your girlfriend. We'll hang out."

"Yo! Radical! I'll do that, Mr. Bawa!" Duncan exclaims with happiness. "She's Josephine. She'll be blown away! Thank you very much!"

They shake hands, and the boy rides off. Chris has stopped several meters away from the house. It is now getting less dark as daylight approaches rapidly. He runs to the back of the house and enters the little woody perimeter. The little emergency exit gate creaks open, and he stoops and enters. Effe is wearing jeans and a short blouse, and her beautiful face is crisscrossed with worry and fear.

"Ira called, Chris. The police are in her house. I told her to inform them you spent the night with me. They may be on their way here. Come quickly!"

They go through the back door of the kitchen and climb the stairs hurriedly.

Effe urges him to take off his clothes quickly. Naked, he gets under the shower as she carries his clothes downstairs and puts them in the washing machine. By the time Chris emerges from the shower they can hear the strident wails of the police sirens. Effe quickly shirks her clothes and pulls on a negligee.

"Get into the bed, Chris, now!" Effe whispers with fear.

Chris climbs under the sheets, and just then the intercom telephone rings.

She picks it up.

"Hello?"

"The police are here, Madam. They're forcing their way through," the security man says with concern.

"I'll be there in a minute."

She looks at Chris with fear all over her lovely face.

"Go, my love. It'll be fine," he says gently.

Effe pulls on a morning robe and belts it. She descends downstairs and opens the door. The yard is crowded with cops, and Chief Inspector Dan Curtis is leading them.

"Yes, Inspector?" she says icily.

"Good morning, Madam. Sorry to bother you this morning. We're looking for Mr. Chris Bawa. We believe he was involved in a drug deal early this dawn, which led to one man losing his life," Curtis says grimly.

"This dawn? What are you talking about? Chris is here. Has been with me since yesterday," Effe says smoothly.

"Really? We just asked the security man, and he didn't remember Mr. Bawa coming in yesterday," Curtis says coldly.

"Are you calling me a liar, Inspector? Well, if you had bothered to enquire further you would've been told the security men run shifts, and the one you questioned came in at six o'clock yesterday evening. The day security guy was here when I came in. Chris was in my car, I drove into the garage, and he spent the rest of the day with me," Effe says, sounding angry.

Chris, a large cloth wrapped around him, appears behind Effe. He yawns as he puts an arm around her shoulders.

"What's it, Angel?"

"I don't know, my love. Seems the policeman thinks you were running a drug deal this dawn."

Chris looks into the furious eye of the police man, whose other eye is patched over as usual. Curtis looks at Chris with unbridled hatred, and then he smiles tightly.

"Sorry, Madam. Seems we were wrong. I'll advise you to stick around, Mr. Bawa. We'll still need you in the investigation surrounding the fifty kilograms of cocaine we found this dawn and the death of Mr. Darlett Thompson," he says coldly.

Chris' face clouds over instantly as a deep pain tears through him.

His body tenses as he looks at the policeman. Effe almost falls down as she stares with horror at Chris.

"What? Darlett is dead?" she asks, horrified.

"He was fine when I spoke to him last night, my love," Chris says tightly. "Maybe the Chief Inspector is confusing him with someone else."

"He was shot dead this dawn by a police team which had a tip-off about some hard drugs. You can pass by the police morgue later in the day to identify him for us, Mr. Bawa, since he was staying with you. Good day. Let's go, men."

They watch as the police turn and leave the yard. Effe goes inside and closes the door, and then she looks at Chris with horror.

"Darlett? That sweet old man? Dead? What happened, Chris? What happened? What have you gotten yourself into now, Chris Bawa?" she asks, trembling with fear.

"Sit down, Ef. Let me tell you everything about what happened," Chris says.

Effe moves past him and begins to climb the stairs.

"Come up, Chris. Come and tell me."

Chief Inspector Curtis swings his police jeep to the side of the road and gets out. He stands rigidly as the other police cars disappear in the distance, and then he turns and looks at Effe's house.

Suddenly, he turns and kicks savagely at the front tyre of the jeep. His phone rings. He looks at the screen and winces. It is his boss. He sighs deeply and picks the call.

"Hello, Chief."

"Curtis! You carried half the force on an operation I didn't sanction and have no idea of?" the Commander queries furiously.

"Sorry, Chief. It was a tip-off and we had to move quickly. We recovered some cocaine and were involved with a shoot-out with one of the criminals, who unfortunately died."

"And the other? I've been told you went to Madam Effe Kedem's house to harass her!" the Commander says, still sounding indescribably furious. Dan Curtis grits his teeth. There is a traitor in the squad, no doubt. Someone who had called the Chief immediately and ratted to Curtis. Whoever that traitor is, Dan is going to find him.

"We didn't harass her, Sir. The man we shot was Darlett Thompson, who was released from jail just a few weeks ago. He's a known felon, and a hitman for King Shapiro," Curtis says, striving for calm. "Since his release he's been staying with Mr. Chris Bawa. We went to his house to question him, standard procedure, and learnt he was with Madam Effe. So, we went there."

"Chris, huh? Same man who burst your eye? You're now turning this precinct into a personal vendetta for revenge, Inspector?" the Commander's voice was filled with icy venom.

"No, Sir. We –"

"I want your full report on my desk by eight this morning, Inspector! You better show me a link to Mr. Bawa, or I swear I'll have your damn ass on a platter!" the Commander screams.

The line goes dead. Curtis grinds his teeth angrily and scratches under the patch of his burst eye. He takes out a packet of cigarettes from his top pocket and opens the flap. Inside are three rows of rolled marijuana. He extracts one, lights up, and stays smoking for a while. Then, he picks up his phone and dials.

"Give me the good news," Afful says sleepily.

"No good news. Everything went according to plan. Darlett, however, chickened out at the last moment and let Bawa escape. Darlett went berserk, started shooting at us. The guys had no option. They killed him."

"Escaped? Chris escaped? Are you shitting me, you son of a castrated stupid bull?" Afful asks coldly. "It is a six-storey building, one door. We chose the location well… you chose it! How the hell did he escape?"

"You better watch your mouth, Mr. Afful. I don't take that kind of shit from people like you. Whilst Darlett was holding us up Chris jumped from the sixth floor into the pool float, knocked McBaiden out, stole the car and drove to Okponglo where he abandoned the car. We suspect he had a lift of some sort. But he had enough lead to go to Madam Effe, who gave him the perfect alibi."

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!! You stupid little stinking pussy!" Afful screams, apoplectic. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck!!! You took all that money from me and messed up? Fuck fuck, fuck, fuck! I'm gonna get your balls for this, Curtis! Fuck fuck fuck –"

Curtis cuts the call.

"Yeah, I heard you. Fuck, fuck, fuck! Stupid man!" he says with a snicker.