Trap!!! It was a trap!!!!
How is it possible that of all the people in the world, Dumebi’s cousin, the only cousin that had come to visit her in the hospital, turned out to be Peter, the guy who hired Kunle some time ago to rob his boss’ house.
Now he was trapped, caught between staring at Peter’s accusing eyes and the old tiles that were previously white. He was sweating too. Profusely pouring down sweat despite the cold air coming from the open windows. Dumebi’s mother sat in the armchair as Peter relayed to her all that was going on in the family.
“They have taken Uncle’s body to the mortuary. I sent Mummy’s house girls to clean up the house. You won’t see any sign of what happened….” Peter was saying.
Dumebi’s mother just sat and stared at the floor, nodding occasionally as Peter spoke.
“My father has already filed the report with the police. They searched the house before I sent the girls to clean it. Whoever did all this will be caught….” Peter declared.
Dumebi’s mother shook her head sadly. “In this Nigeria, how will they catch those boys? They have all probably gone into hiding na. It’s not as if we have brilliant detectives in our Police. Abeg….i know it is God and God alone that will take vengeance on my behalf, not any Police man or woman.”
Peter smiled confidently, as if he had a sweet armour in his arsenal.
“Aunty, what you don’t know is that the stupid boys made a mistake. They left a clue. The police actually have a lead.” Peter said proudly, his eyes boring holes into Kunle’s head.
Kunle shifted uncomfortably, trying to appear nonplussed by the news. Clue? What mistake did the boys make? What possible clue could the police have?
“What clue? What did the police find?” Cynthia spoke for the first time.
Peter smiled as one who held all the cards. “I can’t tell you that one now. I was there when they searched the house and they warned me not to reveal this…” He looked at Kunle pointedly “…Just in case they have spies. But don’t worry. I guarantee you those boys will be caught. They will.” He declared vehemently.
Dumebi’s mother turned to Kunle. “My son, you’re so quiet…hope all is well?” She inquired.
Kunle managed a smile “Ah! No mummy. Everything is fine. I am just tired. Let me go and stretch my legs downstairs…”
She nodded and turned back to Peter.
Kunle ran out of the room, already dialling Olatunde, his second-in-command’s number.
“Boss…I hail…” Olatunde began.
“Shut up. You hail who? What did you boys do? What mistake did you boys make that the police are using to search for us? Hmmm? Talk!!!” He thundered.
“Boss, no mistake oh. It was a clean job.” Olatunde said in a hassled voice.
“Shut up. Which clean job? I just heard that the police have something on us and you’re here telling me clean job. See, question the boys thoroughly. Drill them hard. Find out the mistake any of them made. Then go into hiding. Make una loss. U hear me so?”
“Yes sir… I will do that. But boss, where you say you dey…?”
Kunle cut the call and leaned on the wall, regretting the day he stepped into that school, the day he met Capone. It was all a mistake, a huge mistake. He heard footsteps coming closer to the staircase and turned to make way for the person to pass. He barely missed the punch aimed for his head. It landed on his shoulder.
Surprised, Kunle looked up. It was Peter.
Peter hooked his shirt and pushed him to the wall roughly, hitting his head hard against the wall. Kunle grimaced and grabbed his hand on his shirt, twisting Peter’s fingers till he removed his hands.
“What are you doing here? What are you doing with my sister? You this hooligan. Did you and your boys kill my uncle?” Peter screamed at his face.
Kunle ignored his questions. “If you breath a word about me to anybody, i’ll expose you. You hear?” He looked at Peter hard, his eyes and ears bulging.
They heard the scream at the same time. Dumebi. They rushed to the room to find Dumebi convulsing on the bed.
The scream had come from Dumebi’s mother. “What is happening? What is happening?” she kept screaming.
Peter rushed out to call the doctor while Kunle held Dumebi down to control the jerks.
It didn’t help. She spasmed again, then lay still and peaceful.
The doctor rushed in, looking harried. His clothes looked rumpled, like he had slept in them. He examined her, his face worried and tired. It was a serious matter. The nurses rushed in and all hovered at the bed, this one inserting a needle here, the other poking into Dumebi’s eye, it was all a hullaballoo.
Dumebi’s mother sat on the armchair, looking at Dumebi and crying bitterly. Cynthia looked on, shock written on her face while Peter stayed beside Dumebi’s mother.
Kunle looked on, his heart in his throat. Soon, the nurses all left. The doctor cleared his throat, looking stern.
“Madam, is there anything we should know about your daughter’s medical history? I can’t fathom why she keeps coming in and out of shock….”
Dumebi’s mother shook her head vehemently, “My daughter has always been in sound health. She never gets sick except the occasional malaria now and then. She’s not a sickly person doctor. What is wrong with my child?”
The doctor took a deep breath. “We’ll have to run some more tests. That will take more time but until the results come out, there’s nothing I can do. Please stay….”
“Doctor…” Cynthia called out timidly.
Everyone turned to her.
“I know what’s wrong with my sister. She…She told me….she’s….” Cynthia swallowed heavily.
“Talk naa!….” Her mother screamed.
“She’s pregnant.” Cynthia blurted out.
“She’s two months pregnant. She told me not to tell anyone.” Cynthia was crying now.
The room became silent and heavy. Kunle sat down heavily. Two months pregnant. That means Dumebi got raped while pregnant, while she was carrying his child.