After work that day, just like Mrs. Sunday had instructed, I went to her apartment to see her. Her husband was not at home when I got there. She was told by a maid that I had come. She ordered the maid to make me comfortable because she was bathing. I was made to sit in a comfortable chair and offered wine, to which I politely declined. After about forty-five minutes, Mrs. Sunday walked into the living room looking radiant and smelling fresh.
"Mr. Ben." She smiled.
"Yes, Ma. God evening."
"Good evening, how are you?"
"I am good, Mam."
"Alright, I called you here because amongst all my workers, you look the most refined. All these other workers are local villagers. Ever since I got married to Mr. Sunday, I have been bored. But I was happy when I learnt that we have finally employed a man of quality."
"Thank you, Mam. I am humbled."
"Are you married?"
"No, Mam."
"That is better." She commented, and that got me surprised. Raising my eyes to look at her, I asked.
"How do you mean, Mam?"
"Never mind." She smiled broadly, revealing a set of perfectly white teeth.
"Ok, Mam."
"Good. That was all I wanted to talk to you about. You may go home now and remember to be early tomorrow."
"Yes, Mam. I will. Thank you, Mam, and goodbye."
As I walked away, I could feel her eyes on me. When I got home, I explained the whole encounter to the old lady in whose house I was living. She cautioned me to be very careful and even proposed that I resign from my job to avoid trouble. I would have loved to follow her advice, but I was on a mission and had to finish it.
The next day, I got to work and realized that she was already in my office waiting for me. The secretary had come earlier and had opened the office for her. I was surprised to see her but didn't show it. Keeping my face as normal as possible, I walked towards her.
"Good morning, Mam." I greeted.
"Good morning, Mr. Ben. You look dapper this morning." She replied.
"Thank you, Mam."
"I made breakfast for you. When you have settled, please, come to the apartment and eat." She spoke boldly in spite of the presence of the secretary.
I looked at the secretary to watch her reaction but she kept a straight face.
"Alright, Mam. I will."
About thirty minutes later, I walked into the apartment. I was very afraid of what the boss might think seeing me eating in his house. I was offered a seat by the same maid of yesterday, but this time around, the seat was at the dining section. The dining table was heavily set as if it were prepared for a king.
"Enjoy your meal, Sir." The maid said. "Madam will join you soon."
"Thank you." I spoke nervously.
As soon as I finished eating, Mrs. Sunday walked in. I sat up to greet her, but she motioned for me to relax.
"Good morning, Mam." I greeted.
"Good morning, my friend." She replied. She had never called me that, so it made me uncomfortable. "Hope you enjoyed your meal?"
"Yes, Mam, I did, Thank you very much. But there is something I would like to ask you." I spoke.
"Go right ahead."
"Mam, don't you think your husband will not be comfortable seeing me here eating in his living room so early in the morning?"
"Of course, he will." She answered and looked at me, waiting for my next question.
"So, with all due respect, Mam. Why did you invite me here knowing fully well that your husband would not approve?"
"You seem to be a very careful man, Mr. Ben. Well, being careful serves my purpose. Anyways, to answer your question, my husband travelled last night and would be out for a week. So, you need not be afraid."
"Ok, Mam. I understand. So, can I go now?" I asked.
"No, calm down. You will go when I want. There is something I want us to talk about."
"What is that, Mam?"
"It is about my husband."
"What about him, Mam?"
"You see, when I married him newly, I was his trophy wife. He gave me all the attention I needed. He treated me like a queen and showered with my gifts, but after a while, everything changed. He stopped giving me attention and even stopped sleeping with me." She lamented.
"Why?" I asked.
"I don't know. But I began suspecting that he had been giving his attention to other women. So, I carried out an investigation. I sent two of my men to follow him when he made a trip to the city. They reported back to me and told me that they had seen him with a woman getting into a hotel in town. I asked for the woman's picture, and it was sent to me."
"Hmm!! You seem to be smarter than the FBI." I commented.
"Yes, you may say so. Anyway, for the next few months, I watched my husband closely because I didn't want to make any rash decisions. When I was really sure that he was dating the lady, I sprang into action."
"What did you do?"
"I sent my men to talk to the girl. The plan was easy. Nixon, one of my men, is a very handsome man. So, I asked him to go to the city, meet the girl and ask her out. It worked out just the way we wanted, and when he called back and told me that he had the girl in his palms, I asked him to look for a way to bring her to me. He was supposed to spike her drink, knock her unconscious, and bring her to me."
"What did you intend to do with her?"
"I wanted to threaten her and put the fear of the devil in her, but something went terribly wrong."
"What happened?"
"Nixon and Val succeeded to spike her drink, but it seemed she suspected that she had been drugged. So, she excused herself, got a bike, and headed for her home. From what I was told by Nixon, when they realized that she had discovered their plan and had escaped, they got on to another bike and followed her."
"Did they catch her?" I asked.
"They almost did. When her bike man dropped her, they, too, dropped from their bike and started following her on foot. As they were getting close to her, they heard the sound of another bike coming. So, they hid in the bushes, very close to her, and waited, hoping for the bike to pass by, but it didn't. Instead, it stopped just around where they were, and a young man jumped down from the bike and grabbed the girl. He carried her into the bush." She explained.
"So, what did Nixon and Val do?"
"Nothing. They assumed that they man who grabbed the girl was a kidnapper or a ritualist who was going to use the girl to make money. So, they decided to go away knowing that one way or the other, they had still succeeded in getting rid of her. The following day, news reached them that she was found, taken to the hospital, and later passed on to glory; which was a good thing, by the way."
"How do you mean?"
"If she didn't pass, she would have explained to the police everything that happened, and she would have identified my men. That would have brought the police here. You know what that would have meant for me."
"Yes, that is true. So, did your men ever identify the guy who snatched the girl from them?"
"Yes, they did. They said he was young and handsome. He was dressed in a pink T shirt and blue leather jacket."
That meant me. So, that was how my identity came to be revealed. Everything makes sense now. I had been wondering how anyone was able to tell how I was dressed that night when I had made sure that I looked carefully around to make sure there was no one watching before taking that girl into the bush. Little did I know that there were two men, just inches away from me, watching the whole thing.
That made my mission now more dangerous and urgent. If those two guys, Nixon and Val, were still around, they could identify me and report me to Mrs. Sunday and to the police. That would bring trouble to me. I had to look for them first, get them arrested or eliminated, and bring Mrs. Sunday to book for her role in the demise of the girl and then run back to the city before my boss' deadline reaches. But that was not to be.
The door opened, and two rugged-looking young men stepped in. I was backing the door. So, they couldn't see my face, and neither could I see theirs. It was Mrs. Sunday, who made me know that they were Nixon and Val.
"For Pete's sake, Nixon. Who gave you guys the temerity to walk into my living room without knocking." She barked.
"We are so sorry…" Nixon was beginning to say, but at that same moment, I turned around to look at them, and he froze. His eyes almost popped out of their sockets as he looked at me in disbelief.
Nixon had identified me.
TO BE CONTINUED…