Must Read: Paradox Of Abel - Season 1 - Episode 30

7 years ago

Must Read: Paradox Of Abel - Season 1 - Episode 30

The pleasant young man was still staring at him, the smile remained plastered on his face. He added, “My fans call me Ariel though.”
“Your fans? Are you a celebrity?”
“Not yet,” replied Ariel, “I write novels, albeit unpublished.”
“You are not a celebrity and your novels are still begging for publication, yet you say ‘your fans’.” Lot cocked his head to one side, apparently speculating whether a bolt had gone missing from the man’s machinery and the smile was only a gossamer thread still holding his sanity in place. Lot has met more psychos in his lifetime to know that insanity wasn’t only measured by the specks of dust on your clothes. And Lot was not slow to label anybody a straitjacket-fitted.
Ariel cleared all suspicions the detective might have of him by replying, “I have followers on the internet. Although not yet printed in hardcopies, my books are available to be read on my blog. You may check them out. I already have two of the novels posted there.”
Lot didn’t know why but he felt that it was very important he read what the man had written. Without wasting time he demanded the writer’s URL and bookmarked. Intending to read the stories at the slightest chance he got.

As he bookmarked the page in his latest BlackBerry model, he also booked it in his brain; never to forget.

He noticed that the writer was genuinely glad when he promised to read his novel. In his glee, he took over the mantle of introducing the family members from Daniel. He introduced the members in his own humorous ways; he used animated qualities to describe every member present in the room.

Ruth Brown he described as the ostrich nursing a boil (Lot nodded in the affirmative at this metaphor), David Malik as the hummingbird without politesse (Lot frowned), Tunde Johnson as the meek bull (Lot hoisted his eyebrows aloft), Remi Johnson the swan made by the ostrich and the bull (Lot nodded in understanding), Esther the peacock with a broken wing (Lot shook his head). All these descriptions were whispered to Lot, as the speaker was certain that some hearers would gladly neuter him if he spoke aloud.
“And how would you describe yourself, son?” Lot asked.
“I’ve already introduced myself.” Replied Ariel, smiling.
“of course,” agreed Lot, “But not in the way you did others.”
Ariel smiled, “I’m not one to blow my own trumpet, especially when I already have people who would gladly blow it for me.”

At this time, Daniel had totally left the detective at the mercy of the writer. He was now seated beside Remi and speaking to her quietly. Lot noticed that the lady was frowning a great deal at almost every word coming from the mouth of her admirer. She occasionally replied him in a tone that matched the footballer’s solemn speech. Lot tried to listen but could catch no word between either of the duo. He gave up and ceased trying; he’d ask Daniel later.

Lot had a way of making Daniel reveal even his darkest of secrets.
With steps full of confidence, Lot walked to the middle of the room and addressed all.
“I greet you all,” he began, “I mourn with you over the soul that was lost in the early hours of today. May the deceased’s gentle soul rest in peace.”
Only few people murmured “Amen.”
Lot continued, “As you’re all aware of the reason behind my presence here, I’m going to investigate the deceased’s murder. I’m sure you all agree with me that it’s murder; it can’t be suicide because a man committing suicide does not stab himself in the back, and accident is also out of it, because I can’t believe the kind of accident that can plunge a knife hilt-deep into a man’s back. So, let’s face the truth, Mr Malik was killed in cold, and his killer is among you.
“I understand that the family would be making preparations for burial and obituary, therefore, I’ll try to make my investigation as fast as possible so that the criminal may be brought to justice on time. The truth is, if there is a murderer, which I believe there is, the criminal may decide to commit another murder. I’m not trying to scare any one of you but this is the truth. Therefore, to avoid any chance of another murder, I’d like the full cooperation of every one of you as I begin my investigations.

The investigations include the questioning if each one of you. Is there a room I can use temporarily for interviews?”
“You’ll have a room in the other building at the left hand side of the compound.” Said David with an air of authority. Being the first son of the deceased, he’s assumed himself the head of the family.
“Thank you,” said Lot, “We’ll use the room. In the meantime it would be helpful if you stayed here together until we have put some things in order.”

The maid came into the room, with her was an elderly bespectacled man. His apparel delight gave off his profession; the old man was dressed in a white gown, although he wore his carefully-pressed and starched medical attire under the gown; a white shirt over a black pair of trousers and shoes. A rainbow tie sq££zed his neck. Poking from the chest pocket of the white gown were the tips of three ballpoint pens; a red, a blue and a black. This stationery inclusion added more fashion to his raiment.
“Aha, Doctor Bantu,” David bellowed, “I’ve been expecting you.”
“How do you do, Mr. Malik?” Bantu greeted. “My condolences for your sudden loss. Your father was a wonderful man, I wonder what he did wrong to deserve such harsh treatment.”

David nodded, “Thanks a lot, Doctor.,” He introduced, “This is Detective Lot, he’s investigating the case.”
Bantu opened his eyes very wide, “You don’t mean it!” he exclaimed, “You mean the same Detective Lot?”
David was lost he didn’t understand what prompted the medical practitioner’s sudden outburst. But he now looked at Lot with a different pair of eyes, like a disciple who’d just witnessed Christ’s miraculous healing for the first time. He realized that there was more to the big man than his body size.
“My God!” The doctor exclaimed again, “You are him!”
“ ‘He’ is a better grammar, doctor.” Lot replied.
“Yes,” answered Daniel Famous, “It’s the same Detective Lot in flesh, the one and only Collosus.”
“My God!” Bantu said, his eyes were still fixated when he added, “Nice making your acquaintance again, sir.” He extended his hand towards the detective.

Lot grabbed it firmly, “It’s a pleasure. But what do you mean by ‘again’?”
The doctor winced in agony at the pressure exerted on his hand, he quickly struggle to free himself of this painful compliment.
When he had had his freedom and the ache in his palm had subsided, he smiled sheepishly and said, “I was one of the doctors who did the autopsy of Elder Pious in 2002.”
“Elder Pious?” Lot had no idea about whom the man was talking about, “Who is Elder Pious?”
“You don’t remember? Elder Pious, the clergyman that was strangled in an Anglican church in Asokoro, Abuja. You investigated the case, remember? That was my first time of meeting you, sir.”
Lot recalled now, but he was not amused, “I remember now. That man who was strangled by a fellow priest over tithes, right?”
Nobody would have guessed that it was Deacon Kura who committed. I was one of the doctors who performed the post-mortem. It appeared as though the Elder was shot but he was already dead from strangulation before he was shot.” He turned to David, “Your father couldn’t have gotten a better detective to investigate his death.” As though the deceased himself had any selection or choice.
“I hope so.” Answered David.
“So, let’s put a stopper on the chit-chat and get down to bedrock.” Lot said, “Daniel, let’s go to the interrogation room. We’ve got a lot of things to find out.”