The loud ringing of Detective Philip's iPhone disrupted his moment of rest, jolting him back to attention. Although he had been lying on the bed with his eyes closed, the call demanded his response. Groping around with his hands, he finally located the phone on the bed and answered with a groan, "What?"
"Detective Philip, are you still in bed?" The voice on the other end inquired.
Recognizing the voice, Detective Philip sat up, a sudden alertness in his demeanour. "Oh, Mr. Odei, I've been expecting your call. Who would have thought it would be today?" His words were accompanied by a hidden smile.
There was a sigh from the other end before Mr Odei continued, "It looks like you're taking too long on this case, Detective. I've not seen the report you're supposed to be making on the progress of the case."
"I thought I was supposed to make the report to the CID," Philip countered.
"Yes, you have to, and he told me they've not heard from you, which made me call. If there's no progression, we might have to assign a new person to the case," the IGP explained.
Philip, still smiling to himself, asked, "Is it you who's going to assign a new person, or the CID?"
"Philip, you know I wouldn't do that. Director Boateng just called me to inform me that," the IGP clarified.
Detective Philip found the situation amusing. "Right, sir. I get it. But I can assure you that I'm still investigating the case. I'll need a month at most to get to the end of it."
"I know that, and I believe it. We're all waiting for you. We're planning to elect a new regional officer, maybe in a month. The whole country is waiting for the truth, Philip," Mr. Odei emphasized.
"Alright, sir," Philip responded as he ended the call
Detective Philip took a deep breath, his mind swirling with the recent developments. He had earlier called Inspector Evans to apprehend the mother and son at the Osei residence, a move prompted by his ongoing investigation. The call from Tasmina had gone unanswered, but the IGP's interruption had shifted his focus.
Curiosity lingered about why Director Boateng hadn't contacted him directly but had chosen to involve the IGP. Before he could unravel this puzzle, his phone buzzed again, this time with Detective Elena's call.
"Yes," he answered, placing the phone to his ear.
"Detective Philip, good morning," greeted Detective Elena, her voice laced with inquiry. "I called to ask about Jesse's case. What have you got now?"
Philip sighed, his frustration evident as he replied, "I haven't heard from him in about 4 or 5 days—I've lost count."
"What?" Detective Elena exclaimed, concern colouring her tone. "I thought you bailed him out for a reason."
"I did. You need to calm down, Elena," Philip reassured her, standing up to collect his thoughts. "I'll move back to his case today."
Detective Elena, left with no choice, could only listen as Philip continued, "Why was Thomas and his mum arrested?"
"Did you call me because of them or Jesse?" he countered.
A brief silence hung in the air before Detective Elena responded, "Um, Jesse."
"Right. Consider that question answered. Bye," Philip concluded, ending the call.
Detective Philip, determined to reach Jesse, called the mother's number first. Upon learning that she wasn't at home, she willingly provided Jesse's number to the detective. Dialling the number, the call was answered on the third ring, and an uneasy silence lingered on the line.
Detective Philip found himself at a loss for words, a rare moment for someone accustomed to navigating complex investigations. Though aware he needed to say something, an unexplainable hesitation gripped him, leaving him momentarily mute on the other end of the line.
The weight of unspoken words hung in the air as he pondered how to break the silence and initiate the crucial conversation with Jesse.
'What the fuck is happening' he thought to himself.
Finally breaking the silence, Detective Philip cleared his throat before tentatively speaking, "Jesse, it's Detective Philip. I've been trying to reach you. We need to talk about the case and your situation.
There was a moment of hesitation on Jesse's end before a soft voice responded, "What is there to talk about, Detective? Whatever happens, I'm still going to end up in a cell"
"I didn't know you could talk like this," Detective Philip chuckled, his voice carrying an amused tone that hinted at the unexpected revelation.
"Look, I'm aware that you hold information about your friend's murder. I wasn't assigned to investigate your case, but the manner in which your friend died mirrors the regional officer's death, creating a connection due to the similarity. I need your cooperation. If uncovering the murderer of your friend could lead to insights about the regional officer's death, we might solve both cases," the detective explained with a mix of urgency and sincerity.
A pregnant pause settled over the phone, the silence only broken by the subtle sounds of Baby Ama in the background, innocently oblivious to the gravity of the conversation. Detective Philip who was anticipating Jesse's answer was still on wait till he decided to convince him more
"Listen, Jesse, trust me. I have a hunch that you didn't commit the murder, but you might possess crucial information. Let's talk, cooperate, and put an end to this," the detective implored, attempting to convince him.
A sigh emanated from Jesse on the other end.
"Alright, but I can't discuss this over the phone," Jesse conceded before the call abruptly ended.
Detective Philip, intrigued by Jesse's cautious demeanour, couldn't help but wear a knowing smile.
"There's more to this man," he mused.
If Jesse's preference was a face-to-face conversation, Detective Philip understood the significance. Determined to unravel the mystery, he swiftly prepared himself to meet Jesse in person, bypassing the police building for now. He was not ready to enter the building, not today.
Dressed in a crisp white T-shirt that accentuated his broad chest and defined abs, paired with a sleek pair of blue-black jeans and black Nike sneakers, Detective Philip exuded a casual yet commanding presence. As he stepped out of his room, he sought out Yaw, finding him engrossed in kitchen activities.
"What are you doing?" the detective inquired, his voice cutting through the air.
Yaw, startled by his master's voice, turned to face him, captivated by Detective Philip's striking appearance. Clearing his throat, Yaw managed a response, avoiding direct eye contact, "You didn't come out for breakfast, so I'm making lunch."
"Well, you don't have to. I have somewhere to go now," Detective Philip replied, his gaze fixed on Yaw, analyzing his every move.
"Should I get dressed, then?" Yaw inquired, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.
"No, you're free for today. Go and enjoy yourself wherever you want, Yaw," Detective Philip stated, leaving a card on the counter as he exited, leaving behind an air of mystery and anticipation.