• it has taken a lot to get the truth out of Sophia, but it is a relief to clear her name
For the last few weeks, my life has been in shambles. It’s bad enough to have your partner being accused of violating the very sacred oath of your office, but it’s worse when you also share a pillow with her. I’ve had to walk a tight rope, balancing my allegiance to my calling and my feelings for my wife.
Imagine learning that your significant other has been cheating on you. Then imagine confronting him or her and getting nothing but silence in return. What’s the first thought that comes to mind? Guilty, right?
Then you start thinking, “What if I got this thing all wrong? Should I really rely on the word of a person who once claimed to have witnessed first-hand as a man turned into a woman after circling Kit-Mikayi seven times?”
Heck! I’ve seen people who began doubting photographic evidence!
Now imagine my situation with Sgt Sophia. Having been accused, and even arrested, for the murder of four family members, my wife maintained a deafening silence. Not even a week in jail would force her to spill the beans.
Only after the ordeal is finally over does she tell me that she’s in a secret Witness Protection Programme for testifying against a fellow cop who executed the family in cold blood.
After supper today, she gets more candid than she’s ever been with me. “It was just a series of very unfortunate events,” she says, catching me by surprise. “The man was the sole heir to a prime plot of land.”
“What man?” I say.
“The one I witnessed getting killed. Do you want to know or don’t you?”
Boy, do I. “Sorry, please continue.”
She seems to almost tear up. “Saddest part is, he didn’t even know about the inheritance. But his uncle, his father’s brother, did, and he knew the only way the land could devolve to him was if his nephew was out of the picture.”
“The man didn’t know his father owned land?”
“The victim didn’t know who his father was, or that he owned 50 acres of prime land at the Coast. His parents were married for less than a year and separated when he was a mere toddler, and his mother never mentioned her husband ever again.”
“Wait! You mean to say his uncle just happened to be a policeman?”
A wan smile from Sophia. “That would be quite convenient, wouldn’t it? But, no. He’s a surprisingly wealthy man who owns a slew of businesses in the city. Unfortunately, when his brother died, the lawyers handling the will couldn’t trace the heir apparent, but the businessman was easy enough to find.”
“Oh, boy. So they contacted him in a bid to find the victim?”
“Sad, right? They couldn’t know the uncle had designs on the inheritance himself. He hires a policeman—”
“The perp in this case?”
“Are you telling the story, or am I?”
“Sorry. Go on.”
“Yes, he hires the killer policeman, but he doesn’t find his quarry. Not right away, anyway. Then, we’re sent into a city suburb to quell maandamano after elections. There’s been a shooting and we believe a civilian fired the shot.
“As four of us are checking residents’ IDs, the bad cop happens upon his target. Casually, he suggests we split up and cover more ground. There are only six units on the floor. The two I check are unoccupied, so I return to the first one just in time to see my partner for the day shoot a four-year-old boy to death.”
“Dear, Lord! How does he explain it?”
“‘They had this,’ he says, showing me a pistol.”