Chapter 07

Three police officers stood before the grand entrance of the Inspector General of Police's mansion, their eyes fixed on the ornate door as they knocked in unison. The silence that followed was thick, almost palpable. One officer, impatient, knocked again. The door swung open, revealing Laura, a stunning woman with long, dark hair tied back and piercing dark brown eyes, dressed in a crisp, blue nurse’s uniform.

"Pastor Imam," she said, her voice laced with surprise.

"Laura," Pastor Imam replied, his tone deep and respectful. "Is he in?"

Laura's gaze darted to the officers behind Pastor Imam, her expression cautious. "Yes, he’s at his devotion," she confirmed, her voice low. "As always," Pastor Imam noted, a knowing look passing between them. "Yeah, as always," Laura echoed, nodding quickly to signal urgency; she had to get to work.

She gestured toward the side of the house. "You can follow the path to the left..." she began, but as they walked through the front door, her regret was evident. "Or you could just follow here," she corrected, her face and voice betraying her wish that they hadn't come this way.

Inside, they found the Inspector's daughter, Kayla, packing her school bags. She was absorbed in her task until she noticed Pastor Imam and the officers. "Pastor Imam!" she exclaimed, her face lighting up as she ran to hug him.

"Yeeeesssss," Pastor Imam stretched the word out, returning her hug with a laugh. "How are you?"

"If you look at me..." Kayla paused, smiling broadly, "I'm fine."

"Yeeeesssss," Pastor Imam echoed, giving her another embrace before turning serious. Laura, meanwhile, was hastily preparing Kayla's lunch. "Ummm, Kayla," she called, "we're running late."

"Yes, ma," Kayla responded, taking the lunch bag.

"I'll see you soon," Pastor Imam said warmly.

"Well, we see each other always," Laura quipped sarcastically. Pastor Imam responded with a half-smile.

"Wait here while I check on him," Pastor Imam instructed the officers, taking a small backpack from them. As he walked away, he called, "Little K."

"Yes, sir," Kayla replied in a playful tone.

"I've got an assignment for you," Pastor Imam said with a grin. "Okay?"

"I want you to name seven billionaires who were studying at ten," Pastor Imam challenged.

"Mark Zuckerberg, Raymond Mark," Kayla listed, her voice playful.

Pastor Imam stopped, turning to look at her with admiration. "You're ten, yet you study like you're at university," he said, impressed.

"To tell Elon Musk he's nothing compared to me," Kayla boasted with a grin. Pastor Imam chuckled and continued his journey through the mansion's opulent halls.

At the back, he found the Inspector General, Mr. Jonathan, engaged in an intense workout. "I would've loved to join your devotion if I found it useful," Pastor Imam remarked.

Mr. Jonathan paused, turning to face him. "Pastor Imam," he acknowledged.

"Mr. Jonathan, you don't listen to people, do you?" Pastor Imam questioned, his voice firm. "We're Nigerians in Lagos, not the North. Your training and exercises are of little use here; we're police, not soldiers."

"You came," Mr. Jonathan noted, his voice weary.

"Yes," Pastor Imam replied, rifling through his bag. "Kidnapping has become daily news in this estate."

"The head of the table isn't just a kidnapper; he's a terrorist..." Mr. Jonathan started, but Pastor Imam cut in.

"We caught one..."

"He's a psychopath..." Mr. Jonathan tried again.

"Sir," Pastor Imam interjected, eager to share his news.

"You know, I never knew an officer would have an arch-nemesis," Mr. Jonathan mused, but was interrupted.

"Sir," Pastor Imam said, pressing forward.

"But I think Akorede has become my arch-nemesis; they're hard to catch," Mr. Jonathan admitted.

"We caught one," Pastor Imam announced triumphantly.

"What?" Mr. Jonathan's interest was piqued.

"He was caught attempting to kidnap a little girl on her way to school. He failed because of the bystanders. They noted the incident, and he fled before he could complete his crime," Pastor Imam explained, pulling out a tablet from his bag to show

Mr. Jonathan the face of the captured kidnapper.

"How was he found?" Mr. Jonathan inquired, his eyes narrowing at the image.

Pastor Imam handed the tablet to Mr. Jonathan, who scrutinized the image with a hardened gaze.

"He was found through a community watch program," Pastor Imam explained. "A shopkeeper near the kidnapping scene recognized him from the incident. They alerted the authorities before he could disappear again."

Mr. Jonathan nodded, his mind racing through the implications. "This is good work, Pastor. But catching one doesn't solve the larger problem. Akorede is still out there, orchestrating this chaos."

"What makes you think he's under Makanaki?" Pastor Imam inquired.

"And what makes you think he's not?" Mr. Jonathan countered.

"You said he's refusing to talk?"

"Yes," Pastor Imam confirmed.

"I'll be there soon," Mr. Jonathan said, picking up a towel to wipe his face and then grabbing his phone.

"Why not now?"

"I've got some home matters to attend to first, but I'll be there this morning," Mr. Jonathan explained, excusing himself to take an incoming call. It was from Chief Gabriel Omoshola, his godfather. When he tried calling back, the line wouldn't connect.

Mr. Jonathan and Pastor Imam moved to the living room where they met other officers. The officers saluted Mr. Jonathan in the customary police manner, and he acknowledged them with a thoughtful "hmm."

Outside, Laura and Kayla were about to get into their car. Mr. Jonathan stepped out to meet them, followed by Pastor Imam and the officers.

"We're running late," Kayla announced as she quickly slid into the car.

"Of course, you should know I don't care about your timing right now," Laura retorted, gesturing dismissively as she walked to the driver's side.

"Ma!" Kayla protested.

"It's your fault we're late..." Laura started, but Kayla cut her off.

"How?"

Laura's gaze followed Kayla's to where Mr. Jonathan and the officers were conversing. She approached them, and the officers excused themselves, leaving Mr. Jonathan alone.

"We'll meet at the station," said Abdullah, one of the officers.

"Yeah," Mr. Jonathan replied.

Laura reached him. "You're aware she's late," Mr. Jonathan noted.

"You're aware I'm late," Laura echoed back.

"Aw, someone's stressed," she cooed, her voice softening as she rubbed his cheek.

"Stressed? Where?" Mr. Jonathan asked with a playful tone.

"It's showing all over you," Laura teased, draping her arms over his shoulders.

"The day's just started, and there's a long way ahead. No, I'm not tired. Besides, my workout is my normal routine; if I skip it, that's when I get tired," Mr. Jonathan explained.

"That's what makes you, you," Laura said, her hand resting on his sweaty chest, soaking through his workout polo shirt.

"You're late," Mr. Jonathan reminded her.

"Yeah," Laura admitted, playing with his shirt. She leaned in for a kiss, but the car horn interrupted with a sharp "Puum, pum."

"Umm, rated eighteen... I'm ten," Kayla called out from the car, earning a laugh.

"She's right," Mr. Jonathan agreed, as Laura echoed, "Yeah."

"So we'll see," Laura said, her hands still draped around his neck.

"Will you be back in time to pick her up from school?" Mr. Jonathan asked.

"Yeah, of course," she replied, holding his hand briefly before letting go and heading back to the car. Mr. Jonathan watched them go. Laura blew him a kiss before getting in, and Kayla waved in their unique family style—palm close to her face but not touching. Mr. Jonathan mirrored the gesture. Then, as they drove off, he stood there for a moment, his thoughts drifting back to the case at hand.