Your Turn
Whodunit - Episode 8
(Read the previous episode here)
Láfẹ́ walked out, head bowed, wondering if he should have come earlier. Or perhaps, never arrested Tunji at all.
This time, he had simply aided Mrs Damien, determined to still remain a player. In the game only she knew how to win.
He could still hear his voice, on the slow walk to the car. George’s car. In a haste to find the truth, he couldn’t have waited for a ride, and offered himself one.
“Yet, another dead end.”
The engine revved to life, pulling out of the station’s parking lot, leaving behind both Tunji’s dead body and the day’s trouble.
Like a detective with a case board, Komoláfẹ́ continued to draw parallels and connections all the way to George’s apartment.
From Clara, to Mrs Damien and her husband, Tunji who was now dead, and the deceased herself. Puzzles without pieces, expecting to be solved.
“You’re back early.”
George has been waiting, expectant as ever for progress. For something to prove that asking him to come had not been a mistake.
By the time Láfẹ́ shared the news of Tunji’s death, George wore the same expression. Sullen.
“Don’t worry Láfẹ́, we will figure it out.”
And figure it out they did, or at least tried to, as they spent the night dissecting and analyzing. Seconds, to minutes, and finally hours, until the night slipped by.
A fluid state.
Comfortable enough for mysteries to be solved.
Until she came along, interrupting at the cock’s first crow.
Her voice cut through their shared studio apartment with, “Komoláfẹ́, you are so foolish!”
Her eyes were blazing, with anything but passion.
Taking away both his need for space, and composure, she walked closer and wouldn’t stop until Láfẹ́ put my hand up.
“Clara, I would advise you to take a step back.”
But for George, the door would have remained shut. Better a scheduled meeting than an ambush.
“You know that Mr. Damien is my friend. I don’t want her wahala.”
The reason he was here to begin with. To help his friend, help a friend. And although, Clara was not their friend, Láfẹ́ listened.
Making sure not to ruffle any feathers.
Her best friend had just been killed, after all. And with the complexity of Mr Damien as George’s friend, sides no longer mattered.
However, as she clicked her tongue at him, regret immediately pooled in his mind.
“Or else what?” She scoffed, “After all, you are only good at making empty threats.”
That her confidence had not waned, was what she wanted them to believe. But she would not be here, had she continued to bask in audacity.
Tunji, a suspect, was now dead.
Clara, another suspect, knew what that meant.
The killer had just raised the stakes, and the rest of them needed to catch up.
“Do your job!”
As she strutted out, George on her heels to pacify her, Láfẹ́ knew what needed to be done.
`...it was someone who cares enough about her.ʼ
Enough to kill for her.
Enough to protect her.
Enough - the right amount.
He called the first number saved on his screen. One he had not known he would need.
“I need to arrest Clara.”
Now, he would wait.
Writer’s Thought
Honestly, this babe is very interesting to write about.
Anyways, we have only two more episodes.
See you tomorrow,
Debs.
Tomorrow ke 😭😭😭😭😭😭
Debs and using my heart to do kite😭