Diane Rucho.

17

As Sandy pulled out yet another photo from Diane Rucho's box, she realized that Diane was beautiful. Sharp dark eyes like the long October nights. Distinguished cheekbones. Wide, bewitching smile. Diane was what a writer would describe as poetry. Breathtaking with every stroke of a pen. In this particular photo, Diane was staring directly at the camera. The backdrop was a backyard with raised garden beds-snake plants peeked from the large cinder boards.

Sandy had noticed that all the photos inside belonged to Diane. She chanced at the possibility that Diane might not have been a very social person.

She wondered if Diane had any friends.

She recalled that Gerald Rucho, Diane's brother, had mentioned her boyfriend, Big Ted. But Sandy noticed that there wasn't a single photo of him in the box or of any man for that matter.

What kind of relationship did they have?

Sandy could remember how Gerald had described Big Ted. Troubled. Drug addict. He had even insinuated the possibility that Big Ted had something to do with the murder.

Was this true?

If so, what was the motive?

The murder report stated that there was no forceful entry into her house. There was a high chance that Diane knew her killer. Sandy imagined Diane with a wide smile opening her front door, unaware of the danger looming, Big Ted on the other end of the door.

Sandy was seated at Officer Preston's desk, and the white box was placed on top of the desk with piles of papers scattered next to it. Most of the papers were certificates, including KCPE (Kenya Certificate of Primary Education), KCSE (Kenya Certificate of Secondary Education), and two diploma certificates. One was a diploma in health and nutrition. The other was a diploma in hospitality - Hotel and Restaurant Operations. Both of the diplomas were from Kenya Utalii College.

Sandy reached into the box and pulled out a book. It was a diary that had a pink floral cover. She opened the book, but there was nothing written inside. However, she noticed that the blank pages appeared worn out as if they had been flipped through numerous times before. As she examined the diary further, she noticed that many pages had been torn out.

Why were the pages torn?

Did Diane do it? Or was it someone else?

As Sandy began to return everything to the box, she saw a small piece of paper inside the box. She picked it up. It was a receipt. A payment receipt from a restaurant. Amani Restaurant.

The date on the receipt was 12th May 2013. Was this not the day before her murder?

***********

The Nairobi Hospital was a privately owned medical facility situated in Upperhill, Nairobi. It was located just a few miles away from Traffic Headquarters and across from the Nairobi School of Dentistry. The latter served as a part-time clinic for a select few who could afford its services. Next to the hospital was the Doctor's Plaza, where numerous private specialists rented small office spaces and charged exorbitant fees to patients using health insurance funds.

Preston located Nurse Trizah Wangui in the hospital's reception area. The reception area had a modern layout with bright pastel walls, a high ceiling, and white tiles with mosaic elements. The metallic seats were lined up at the centre in columns, had round edges, and were padded with brown cushions. The help desk had been divided into four booths, separated by clear glass. The place was crowded with long queues, distant sirens, cries, and the sound of beeping machines.

Nurse Trizah was speaking to another nurse. Dressed in blue scrubs with her black braids hanging loosely on her shoulders, she barely noticed his presence.

Preston approached. "Nurse," he said, sticking out his hands for a shake. Up close, Preston placed her in the mid-thirties. She had a pleasant face. Bright almond eyes with a long nose that ran down to her plump lips.

She turned to him. A flicker of recognition was clear in her eyes. She shook his hand softly. "Officer? To what do I owe the visit?"

The nurse she was talking to excused herself and walked away.

"Can we talk?" he asked.

Glancing at her wristwatch, she said, "I have a few minutes to spare. We can sit at the cafe."

As they walked down the hospital hallway, Preston asked, "Is it a busy day?"

"Yes," she replied, "there's a cholera outbreak in Donholm. It seems the water supplies have been contaminated, and the wards are full."

Preston had already heard about the outbreak. "What's being done to remedy the situation?" he asked.

"We're running an awareness campaign, but there's little that can be done, especially when almost everyone in the area has been affected. We can only hope for the best."

The hospital's cafeteria was located at the end of the hallway. It was a spacious eatery with yellow walls and a dirty tiled floor. There were a couple of round tables with bar stools, and food displays were arranged on the clear glass counter. The smell of something frying was in the air, almost burning. There was a slow-moving queue at the cash register, mostly consisting of doctors and nurses, along with a few patients and even some visitors.

When they sat down, Nurse Trizah asked almost immediately, "Is this still about Diane?"

"Yes."

"I heard about the other officer. What was his name? Oh. Edward. Such a tragedy. I didn't know him well, but when he came with you the other time, he seemed like a good soul."

"Yes. He was," said Preston. He realized that he didn't talk much about Officer Edward. Was that a bad thing?

"What is it that you want to know, Officer?"

"Do you know what time it was when Diane was brought into the hospital?"

Preston noticed the crease in her forehead. She was jogging her memory. "I can't recall the exact time, but I know it was around 10 p.m. I was on the night shift that day."

"The Assualt? Did she have wounds on her?"

"Yes. Her face had been bruised. She had a broken nose. There were visible marks on her wrist."

"What kind?"

"Like someone had been holding her hands too tight."

"Was she unconscious?"

"Yes. The poor girl was lucky that Mr. Gary Wako brought her here. Good people still exist out here."

"Did he mention where he found her?"

"Mmhh-I can't remember if he said anything about where he found her."

"When she regained her consciousness, what was her reaction? Did she know him?"

"I don't know. My shift ended at three in the morning. She was still unconscious by then."

"What was your first impression of him?"

"If you are asking if he had anything to do with the assault or murder, I think you are barking at the wrong tree."

"Why do you say that?"

"Look. I have seen people like him. The good kind. The kind that put other people first instead of themselves. Trust me. He had nothing to do with whatever happened to that girl."

Preston noticed that the woman had defended Gary Wako with a great deal of passion. He wondered if they knew each other.

"May I see the medical report?" he asked.

"I'm afraid that's not possible due to doctor-patient confidentiality. We take confidentiality very seriously here," she replied.

"Can you tell me where I can find the doctor?" he inquired.

"Well, about that..." she trailed off. "Dr. Elvis Onyacha passed away a few days ago from food poisoning. The funeral will be held next week."