Some minutes later,Isaw Willie againcoming out of the room. He looked up and down the corridor,furtively. As he came out, he had what looked like red stains onhis previously immaculate white shirt. He locked her door from theoutside and kept the key in his trouser pocket. Then, he quicklywalked away. It was at the stroke of midnight. My hand wastrembling, as I held the camcorder.
“When and where did you getthis?”
“I got it less than two minutesbefore you broke into my room like a robber. I got it from JohnBrad. You see, I had also noticed Maria’s pensive and distractedlook, that evening. So, I had asked John to keep a watchful eye onher and keep me informed. Unknown to me, he did better than Iasked. He followed her about with this camcorder. Being the amateurastronomer that he is, he did his job well into the night andcaptured these interesting images. By the way, I also saw somepictures he took around the Lodge. Our Mr. Brad is avoyeur!”
“But why didn’t he turn thisin?” I asked. “He could be arrested by the police as an accessoryafter the fact.”
“John Brad has a deep-seatedloyalty to Willie. He speaks about him in reverential tones. He wasconvinced there's a logical explanation for the actions of the‘ordained’ man of God. He believed that by turning in thisrecording, he would be leading the police down the wrong path,while the real murderer escapes.”
“How does herationalise Willie locking her door from outside and the evidentbloodstains on his shirt?” I asked, astonished at the naivety. Or was it a conspiracyto cover up the act?
“Until thisafternoon, he still believed that there was a logical explanationfor everything. According to him, the intruder may have broken inthrough the window and killed her. You need to understand it fromhis perspective. They are of the same religious faith. He believesso much in the Pastor Willie, who preached to him and got him converted. He closed hismind to the facts at his disposal, choosing instead to believeblindly in his revered mentor.”
“So, what changed his mind andmade him turn over the recordings to you?”
“Maria left me a note on the dayof the murder. I didn’t get it until yesterday. She sent it to afriend of hers, who was to send it to me if anything happened toher. Her friend only heard of her death yesterdaymorning.”
Shehanded me the short note which read:
Hello Mummy,
Despite our differences, I wantyou to know that I love you very much. I wish I had the power tomake everything okay again with daddy and your legs. Since you’rereading this, it means something bad has happened to me. Maybe Iwas foolish for love's sake. It is very importantthen,that you know thatBinta Danladi, the girl in the choir whom I told you disappearedsome time ago, is the same person as Fati Madu who was suspected tohave hung herself in my room in the Lodge in February. She andPastor Willie were dating. He brought her here just as he convinced me to come and Iconvinced you in turn. You may have been right all along about him.I’ve a feeling that he killed her.
I love you very much.
“Naturally, her note aroused mycuriosity. I read about Binta’s death in old newspaper clippingskept by Amina. I asked her where one could get the kind of cordused in the hanging here in Obudu. She mentioned a number ofstores. I sent the helpful John Brad to them with one of thepolicemen I had become acquainted with, during the murderinvestigation. They asked to see all their duplicate sales receiptbooks for January and February. They stuck gold at “All BrightStores” where they got this. She gave me a duplicate sales receiptnumber 911 made out to William Akuma Japheth for the purchase ofhand gloves and a coil of cord on 12.02.2012. That was the nightbefore the supposed suicide!
“Brad had aphotograph of Willie with him and showed it to the shop attendant,who easily recognised him because of the crucifix he always wears.He wasdefinitely the one who bought the items. So, you now have your killer and theevidence.”
I wasspeechless.
The nextday, I helped Mrs. Marshall pack her things. Her eyes were stillred and swollen from much weeping. Yet, she still had her strengthof character. It must be devastating to lose one’s husband and onlychild in the same year, both in tragic ways.
“But it is amazing, Mrs.Marshall, that you did not catch on that there was an affair goingon between Willie and your daughter,” I said, as I put her shoes ina bag.
“Ofcourse, Iknew,” she said, as she put her knitted caps in a polythene bag.“Who did you think I was warning her against?”
“I thought it was Nagoth,” Isaid.
“No, it wasWillie. I knew he was a fraud from the minute I set eyes onhim,and I had asuspicion that she had fallen for him. The day you told me that shewas in love with someone else, I thought you knew. That was why Iencouraged you to go after her and maybe turn her head away fromhim. Nagoth meant nothing to her. They were justfriends.”
“But did you suspect that Williehad killed her?” I asked.
“I was not too sure. It becameconfusing. Ayuba had a plaster on his cheek and she had, it seemed,scratched her assailant. I knew she had also humiliated Philip,when she poured the drink in his face. Then, Nagoth turned out tobe the one whose blood and skin was under her nails.”
“Thank goodness it’s all overand the right culprit apprehended,” I said.
“You’re right, Mr. Simpson. It’sall over. My husband and daughter are gone. Nothing is left, onlyemptiness remains inside.” And she stared vacantly at me with herround eyes.
I was not surprised when theDivisional Police Officer, Daniel Atanda, and one of his officers turned up at theLodge, the following day. His sidekick was a huge man with anenormously
