To Sink into the Deep

Five Dead Politicians After

"Every single CCTV went off inexplicably at midnight only to come on again thirty-eight minutes after with no reason."

Dimchi stood, eyes closed, gloved hands on the back of a large leather couch, reciting the facts as was her norm, while a crouched, sock-footed Ngozi peered around for evidence with torchlight.

"Are we sure it isn't NEPA's fault?"

"Nikeji has a 10KVA inverter, two generators and hoards of diesel. PHCN's power issues won't hurt him," Dimchi said, stressing each letter of 'PHCN' to remind Ngozi of the electricity industry's new name.

Ngozi stood up and stretched her legs. Massaging her neck, she asked "Death facts biko."

"Time of death: sometime midnight and thirty-eight minutes after, yesterday. Cause: poison in his blood alone, no traces in his digestive tracts. Nikeji's wife found him here, in his TV room, past two that morning. He was sitting on that chair," Dimchi pointed to a large armchair facing the television, "positioned as if he was watching the television but it was not on. No signs of struggle. Just like the rest of them."

"Poison only in his blood?"
"Like the other four politicians Ngozi."

Irritation lined Dimchi's words, aimed not at Ngozi but rather at the frustrating case they were handling.

Ngozi felt the exasperation as well, but this time her gut gave her a slight hunch that something will be different, that they'd get a break.

She stood in front of the chair were Nikeji's body had been and asked Dimchi to turn off the lights. In the ensuing darkness, she turned on her flashlight and squatted, inspecting every nook of the armchair cautiously until she saw the glint she was looking for.

So small, could have fallen off from wherever on Nikeji's skin it had been impaled, what with all those rolls of fat.

"Tinye oku."

The lights came on. Ngozi held up the little plastic bag with the needle in it.

"Who in Nigeria assassinates like this?"

"No wonder the security guard insists that a demon killed his oga."

"Trust me, e no be demon," Ngozi said after putting the evidence away, "it was The Angel of Death finally giving Nikeji his fair rewards."
Dimchi rolled her eyes, not this again.

"Maybe," she drawled "but the man has a family, they all have families and none of them deserve this, losing a loved one."

"So they should have warned them to use their positions with the respect they all promised. Now their actions are making them all drop like flies."

Dimchi looked at Ngozi long and hard.

"I still say none of their families deserve this, maybe they don't even know what is going on."

"The children? Maybe. That his fat wife? No way."

"Ngozi be sensible. After all, there are men that cheat and their wives are unaware."

"But they suspect. When Nikeji brings in money much more than his salary, she should have suspected."

Dimchi looked behind her as she said, "He could have another source of income."

"True, I heard collecting bribes from Petro Oil is a very lucrative job- "

"Ngozi."

"- the money they paid him could even be more than the money they would have used to clean up the spills!"

Dimchi looked back again, raising up a hand,

"I understand, but be - "

Ngozi's louder words cut her short.

"His people are sick, unable to fish, farm, eat, sleep, anything without oil affecting - "

Dimchi clapped her hand over Ngozi's mouth.

"Shut up!" she said through clenched teeth.

Ngozi's eyes widened then narrowed.
Dimchi's eyebrows furrowed even further.

"You have the right to be angry," her voice a harried whisper, "but if any of your words get back to HQ, that's it we are off this cases and if anybody wants to be troublesome, our jobs even."

She squeezed Ngozi's shoulders, "Your mouth might cost us our jobs! You know fully well how much we've toiled and climbed to be detectives of our level. And yet some senseless people don't even take us seriously! Do you know my husband gets 'tips' that his wife is cheating on him to rise the way I do, to get the cases I get and and and - "

She let out an enraged growl, tilted her head back and rubbed her face.

"My husband gets them too," she replied in a voice much too quiet considering her earlier outburst.

The two women sighed in unison.

"You, see," Ngozi said after a while, a small smile on her lips, "if not for my mouth, IGP would not have even considered asking us to find out who is killing these politicians."

"It wasn't just your mouth jo. My busy-body behaviour had a hand in this as well."

They both quietly laughed.

"Ngozi, I am aware that these politicians were not good people, but do you know why I'm not bothered?"

"Yes, because I can read your mind."

"These men preyed on others to get to where they were and to get richer and richer and we're taking advantage of their deaths to rise. This is sad for their loved ones but the people they were oppressing and hurting are more or less free. I pray that God puts better individuals in their positions. So don't gripe okay, just pray."

Ngozi nodded, a thoughtful look on her face which disappeared as she asked,

"You couldn't tell me this four dead politicians ago?"

===

At first, this short story was from the perspective of the assassin, then I realised that there wouldn't be much of a mystery. So this came about instead.

Do you think I should turn this idea into a novel?

- KC