Inside Pastor Goodwill’s office, they discovered that a sliding window which led out had been cut and removed, replaced with a plastic flap for easy exit. It came across as something done by a workman, well planned and executed.
“An insider job.” Joshua examined the damage. “Did you notice, pastor?”
Goodwill trembled. “No. I was here yesterday, and nothing was different. I mean, I didn’t open the window, so I didn’t suspect any change.”
“When last did you open this window?”
“Maybe a few days ago. I don’t use it because of the air conditioning in the office.”
Joshua checked out other parts of the office. “Why didn’t you come into the office today?”
The man of God bit his lip. “We have evening program. I come after school hours on service days.”
For another hour, Joshua interrogated Goodwill. Voices of the prayer team members could be heard in a small conference room down the hall. The policemen found a trail from the pastor’s window, but it disappeared into an untarred road leading to the main street. It seemed Shakira had been taken in broad daylight under everyone’s watch, yet no one had seen anything. Her abductors must have perfected the art of appearing and disappearing.
For the rest of the day, they continued to interrogate and search the area for any more clues but nothing came of it, and in the night Dele and the officers returned to the house, while the ones from Calabar went back with their trained dogs.
No one seemed interested in a simple meal of boiled white rice with corned beef tomato stew Runo prepared. They couldn’t go to bed either, and all sat stoic in the parlor, waiting to hear something, anything.
“What happens to her visa now?”
He may sound insensitive, but he needed to know. When no one responded, Dele muttered, “Anyway, this is Nigeria. Anything can happen anytime.”
He got up to leave the parlor, and his phone rang.
“Hello.”
“Fifty million. Call back if you need your wife.” The caller hung up.
Dele’s mouth drooped. “Ah!”
Runo arched an eyebrow. “Who was it?”
“The kidnapper. They want fifty million.”
The officers rushed to his side. Joshua took his phone from him and speed-dialed the number. A female voice came on and repeated the order. She hung up before he could respond. When he dialed the number again, it was switched off.
“They will start the hide and seek.” He took a pen and pad from his back pocket and copied the number. Then he called a number on his phone and called out the number to the person on the other end. “They can trace this number in minutes.”
Runo squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. “We need to start the strategizing. Who do they imagine will raise fifty million for Shakira? Her husband? Or the American embassy.”
Eddy pointed at the TV. “Switch it on. Local and international news is airing it. Someone from HQ just called.”
Runo ran to it, and they all gasped as a video of Shakira, tied to a chair, came on. Dele touched the screen as though to reach her and, overwhelmed by how frail and helpless she appeared, broke down.
Joshua cursed. “They made a video and posted it online!” His phone rang. “Yes?” he listened for a moment and hung up. “The number is an old one. Perhaps ten years old, and it hasn’t been used in a while. Registered under the name of a gangster about five years ago. In Lagos.”
Dele sniffed. “What do we do?”
“Nothing. HQ is going to take over negotiations. They are looping your number, Dele.” He fiddled with his phone. “I need to sleep.”
Dele never wondered where he spent the night, but it was not his business. Eddy followed Joshua out, and Runo sat on one of the single chairs. The newscaster had moved on to other updates.
“What are we going to do?”
Dele had never seen it before but Runo’s voice cracked. “He thinks he’s in control all the time. I should have followed her out.” She wrung her hands. “I am responsible. First time Florence showed up was a failure on my part. They knew then I wasn’t on top of my job.”
“You know you shouldn’t blame yourself for this. Joshua called you to the office and—”
Runo bent forward. “Wait a minute. Joshua.” She wagged her index finger. “Joshua. Did he just say he’s going to sleep?” She stood. “He was here on both occasions.”
Dele gasped. “He said let her vent. He knew?”
“I’m going to find out now.” Runo hurried off to her room.
Dele didn’t think she’d return to give him any feedback. Even if Joshua was a bad cop, Runo would not want him to know. He switched off the TV and went to bed but couldn’t sleep. He thought of Shakira bound hand and foot to a chair, videoed for the world to see. She had not said a word, and her face was void of emotion. Did she know her abductor? Was it the same woman who killed her children?
And Inspector Joshua. It was too coincidental that he had been in the school on the two occasions Shakira’s life had been exposed. Runo’s sole responsibility to protect her had been neglected for a few minutes on both instances because Joshua thought it alright. Somehow, he consoled himself, if Joshua indeed had anything to do with this abduction, he would ensure that Shakira was not harmed.
But in these cases, he knew too well things could easily go wrong.