When the telephone rang again about a minute later, Detective Hanson glanced at the wall clock. It was barely 3 am. He concluded that whoever was calling at that time was either having insomnia or was desperate about whatever he wanted to discuss with him.
The detective heaved a tired sigh for the umpteenth time and reached out for the telephone on the side of the table. He waited for the person on the other like to speak first.
"Hello," The feminine voice said. "Am I on to Detective Hanson, please?"
He was quiet for a moment, trying to process his thoughts. The voice sounded oddly familiar and yet, he was not sure they had met before.
"Yes, this is he."
A short pause followed.
"For security reasons and also for the fact that I cannot trust you on the phone, I will not reveal my identity. But I am calling to arrange a meeting with you tomorrow."
Detective Hanson was taken aback by the caller's words. He took his mind back for a moment and tried to imagine why she had chosen to keep her identity private. The answer came shortly.
"I understand that this may not be something you're used to but I assure you that I have a good reason for this. You never can tell who's tapping your telephone and the mission I'm about to send you on is top secret."
"Who the fuck is this? Are you from the CIA or something?" Detective Hanson fired back at her, a knot tightening in his stomach.
"Let's just say I'm worse than the CIA," The woman on the other line responded. "Look, we just have to fix a meeting and sit and talk. I promise you, everything will make sense once we do that."
Detective Hanson began to hesitate.
"I'll pay you $5000 just for the meeting and then we'll discuss your payment for the main mission once we meet. So, what do you say?"
His eyes widened in surprise. He was not sure he had heard well.
"What?"
"You heard me," The woman repeated.
"This is crap," Detective Hanson responded. "If this is a prank call, I suggest you end it now and return to whatever the hell you were doing. I'm not interested in playing these games with you."
He heard the woman chuckle quietly on the phone. "Detective, I am a very busy woman. I do not have time to play games and I can convince you of how serious I am if you will only fix an appointment for us to talk tomorrow."
"And what if I refuse?" Detective Hanson challenged.
"I am not the kind of woman for you to say no to," The woman responded authoritatively.
Detective Hanson was not sure he appreciated the tone of her voice. But still, he could not fight the curiosity that was growing in his head to meet this interesting individual and listen to the kind of offer she had for him, the kind that made her want to pay him a whooping $5000 just for agreeing to have a meeting with her.
Then, something struck him. This kind of deal did not come on a platter of gold. What if he was getting into a trap.
"Look," He said and heaved an exasperated sigh. "If you're from the CIA like I think you are and you've been sent to extract sensitive information from me, I assure you that I do not have access to such information to give to you. I am just a private detective who works for civilians. I have no business whatsoever with the government."
There was a long pause on the phone. Then, the woman's voice returned.
"Then, I am asking for a meeting with you as a civilian, Detective. I am not a woman that is used to begging to see people but you came highly recommended and I have reason to trust your services. That is why I am putting this call across. Now, will you save us both the time by fixing an appointment for us where we'll discuss our future engagements together?"
Detective Hanson was unmoved. "The answer is no, ma'am. I'm sorry."
He began to take the telephone away from his ears when something she said restrained him.
"$10, 000. Is that enough to fix a meeting with you?"
Detective Hanson could not believe his ears. It was a dream. It had to be.
"Capital Hilton. 12 noon. Don't be late."
He heard the woman heave a grateful sigh on the phone.
"I appreciate this."
At that very moment, Detective Hanson saw a light flash from his cellphone which was lying on the corner of the table. He grabbed it at once at peered at it.
His eyes popped with disbelief. He was now $10,000 richer.
"Hello!" He said to the woman on the telephone.
But there was no response. She was already gone.
*****
Jake Hamilton pressed his hands sharply on the steering. His car gave a loud honk. But there was no movement whatsoever from the myriad cars gathered before him.
He sighed impatiently in the driver's seat of his corolla. This was the problem with being poor. He could not afford the kind of life he wanted for himself and because of that, he was constantly behind time to work.
He'd already used the excuse of traffic more than a thousand tikes. Now, he figured he had to think of a better excuse for his lateness to work today.
Today was a very important day and incidentally, his presence at work on time was of utmost importance. He had to set up the studio and run a prep talk with the star presenter before the guest for the interview that morning arrived.
He could not afford to mess things up today of all days. Their guest today was a very important personality and millions of people around the world would be watching this particular interview.
Jake felt his heart rate rise and fall as he swerved his car sharply on the road, paying very little attention to the other occupants of the road. He prayed the police cars would not tail him. He did not have time to waste with them today.
The Century Media House was located in the heart of the city, sandwiched between landmarks and important places in the state.
Jake Hamilton had worked here for almost ten years of his life since he left college. It was where he hoped to retire from. Thanks to his knowledge and skillfulness, he had managed to rise from the unit editing department where he started to the head editing department.
But there were still milestones to climb and Jake was willing to go all out until he reached the peak of his career. His dream was now being threatened by his shortcomings lately. But he was going to make up for it. He had to.