At the Lagos State Police Command Centre in Ikeja, on the mainland, an incident report officer took a call by hitting a button on the keyboard in front of her.
The caller identified himself as an undercover officer. His call sign and number checked out. The female officer greeted him by the name that flashed up on her screen, above a picture of his face. He was reporting a violent altercation in his assignment area; he’d been part of a group of men hired by a certain crook called Catch-Fire, in anticipation of an attack. He had no information on why Catch-Fire thought he was going to be attacked or who the aggressors were, only that the attack had been imminent.
The offensive happened sooner than expected. A group of gunmen stormed the house. Shots were still being fired. He had never seen anything like it, and he was still there, watching from afar. The aggressors were heavily armed with sophisticated weapons. He recognised a car snatcher that went by the name Knockout – he didn’t know his real name.
‘Any known affiliates?’ she asked, referring to Knockout.
‘Go-Slow, his partner, and Chucks of Matori. But they are not here.’
‘Any casualties?’
‘Current status?’
‘Still hot.’
‘Are you requesting backup?’
‘No, just reporting.’
‘OK. Try not to get killed.’
She had been typing all the time, recording the information on a central database that grew each day but faster by night. She did a quick search to see if there were any patrols in the area of the gun battle; she would warn them to stay clear of the vicinity – warring criminals armed with machine guns were not worth any police officer’s life. Next, she checked the names she had typed against the ‘persons of interest’ column on the details of every police branch in Lagos. The record for Bar Beach police station flagged red. She clicked the row to see what the connection was. The name Chucks appeared on her screen. She saved the details she had recorded and cleared her screen for the next call.
Chucks rode in the back, between two policemen. Inspector Ibrahim sat in the passenger seat while Saliu drove. The officers discussed an upcoming Arsenal match while they drove to a motel room in Alagbado, on the outskirts of town.
‘Would you like anything from the kitchen or the bar?’ Ibrahim asked.
Chucks shook his head.
‘I didn’t hear you.’
‘No, sir.’
‘OK. Please, take a seat. I’ll be back soon.’
Two officers sat on adjacent chairs facing him. One of them picked up a thumbed copy of Vogue and flipped through it. The other played a noisy game on his mobile phone.
Ibrahim asked the sleepy girl behind the counter downstairs if he could smoke inside. She said he could smoke in his room or outside. In the little compound outside the building he fetched the packet of cigarettes he had sent an officer to buy. It was the first he’d had in six months. He closed his eyes and drew in the smoke. He had promised his wife he would quit. He made a mental note to buy a toothbrush and a tube of toothpaste to keep at the station.
He took Chucks to the motel because he didn’t want word of his arrest to get out. He had been instructed to solve the case of the murdered girl and Chucks was his only lead. He would use him to flush out all his accomplices without arousing any suspicion. After his second cigarette, he checked the time. He called the police commissioner, hoping the man would be sleeping. At least then his phone would show that Ibrahim had tried to contact him.
‘Hello, Ibrahim, you have news for me?’
‘Sir, we have apprehended a suspect who was in possession of the car involved in the homicide.’
‘Have you caught the killer?’
‘No, sir.’
‘Call me when you have.’
Ibrahim returned to the room and his officers stood to attention. Chucks followed suit.
‘Please, sit down. How are you?’
Chucks tried to talk but his mouth was dry and his tongue seemed to have glued to his palate.
‘I hope you like this room. It was very difficult getting a hotel at this time of the night. Do you like this place? Should we go somewhere else?’
‘It is OK, sir.’
‘Sir?’
‘Are you a police officer?’
‘No, sir.’
‘So, why are you calling me sir?’
‘I am sorry, sir.’
‘Look, Chucks, I’m sorry that we tricked you in order to bring you here. You have to forgive me. Do you forgive me? You see, my boy Saliu that you have been bribing, he works for me, first. All the money you have given him has been paid into the account of the Nigerian Police Force. You know that bribing a policeman is an offence?’
Chucks swallowed.
‘We will come to that later. There are a few things you must know. First, nobody knows you have been arrested, except me, Saliu, and the officers here with us. That means I can release you if I want to and it would be like this never happened. Do you understand?’
Chucks nodded.
‘I want you to do something for me, just a little favour. Do you think you can do that for me Chucks?’
‘What sir?’ He hoped the man would ask him for a big bribe.
‘I want you to tell me about the girl killed in front of Ronnie’s Bar yesterday.’
‘Ehn? Girl? What girl, sir?’
‘You know what I’m talking about, Chucks. The girl killed for rituals yesterday.’
‘Rituals? I don’t know anything about any ritual, sir.’
‘Chucks, I’m sure you’re a reasonable man. I know you probably had a little part to play in it. It is not you I’m after, but the people you work for.’
‘Sir, I don’t work for anyone, sir. I swear I do not know anything about any ritual.’
‘Come on, Chucks, the car that was used to dump the girl’s body was found in your yard a few hours ago. You cannot tell me you don’t know anything about it.’
‘Sir, I swear on my life, I don’t know anything about any girl or any ritual.’
‘You don’t know anything?’
‘No, sir, I swear. I don’t know anything about any ritual or any girl. I only deal in cars. Ask Saliu.’
‘It’s a pity you don’t want to cooperate.’
Ibrahim stood and left the room and Sergeant Hot-Temper walked in through the open door.
‘Is this the bastard? Bring him.’
Chucks recoiled at the sight of this new person. He was taken down the corridor to another room. Hot-Temper told the policeman accompanying him to leave and took charge of the prisoner. He pushed Chucks into the room, stepped in behind him and slammed the door.
The furniture had been pulled back. The bed had been lifted off the floor and was leaning against the wall. A single chair stood in its place and loose rope lay at its feet. Police officers began rolling up their sleeves.
‘Customer,’ an officer said, ‘come and sit on your throne.’
Chucks balked. Warm urine ran down his legs.
‘Please, please, don’t do this. I’m begging you in Jesus’ name, please don’t do this.’
‘You don’t know me?’ Hot-Temper said. ‘I am Sergeant Hot-Temper. You must have heard of me. I am not like Inspector Ibrahim. Me, I don’t waste time. You will tell me what I want to know, sharp-sharp.’
They gripped Chucks, forced him to the chair and held him down. Ropes fell over his face and tightened around his body. He shook uncontrollably.
The men finished securing him to the chair and stood back to admire their work.
‘We are going to play a little game,’ Hot-Temper said. ‘It is called Know-your-mother. Are you ready?’
Inspector Ibrahim walked in.
‘What are you boys doing?’ He looked alarmed. ‘You don’t need to do this, he is going to cooperate.’
‘You will cooperate?’ Hot-Temper said.
‘Yes, yes. I will cooperate. I will cooperate.’
‘Oga, let us soften him up a bit,’ Hot-Temper said.
‘No need for that. Take him back to his room. He is a good boy. He will cooperate.’
Once he started, Chucks didn’t stop talking. Yes, the car was stolen, but no, not at his request. The car was snatched by two boys, Knockout and Go-Slow. Yes, he had collected stolen vehicles from them in the past. No, he did not think they were part of a bigger gang.
He paid them two hundred thousand for the car. He had told them he wanted nothing to do with the vehicle but they begged him to take it off them. He did not know if they killed the girl or used the car to dump her body but he would not put anything past them. He knew where they lived. He could take the policemen there.
‘What about the blood in the car?’ Inspector Ibrahim said.
‘I don’t know anything about any blood. I haven’t even inspected the car. If I’d seen any blood I wouldn’t have accepted it.’
Ibrahim believed him. He called the station on his radio.
‘Run these names on the system. Knockout and Go-Slow.’
The officer didn’t have to. She had been listening to the traffic on the radio in the communications room all night and had received the signal from the command centre. She pulled up Chucks’s updated record and gave the inspector a third name, Catch-Fire, then she told him about the gun-fight at Surulere.
Ibrahim asked the officer to stand by. He turned to Chucks.
‘Do you know any Catch-Fire?’
‘Catch-Fire? No, sir.’
Ibrahim studied him then he continued with his call.
‘What is the status at the location?’
‘Hot sir. Very hot.’
He turned a nub on his gadget. The radio went silent.
‘Chucks, you will do one more thing for me tonight.’