The Evidence

“Phew! Ooh God, sweet Jeremiah!”

Jessica couldn’t stop herself from giggling, of the past few days, a
lot many good things had happened to her. She had passed her course
work and as if that wasn’t enough, even her little romantic games
were working. Yes, the two men who she had on a weighing scale were
both dancing to her tunes. Like a chess game, they had to protect her;
care for her and in that respect, tonight the scale had tilted in
Jeremiah’s favour.
He had just dropped her back to her room after a day long
rendezvous and to sum up the day, left her with a surprise gift: a sleek
state of the art phone.
Somewhere in her heart, she felt sorry for him, knowing that she
was cheating on him, but somehow, her conscience drew ease from
the knowledge that; if someday she had to choose to marry, between
Jeremiah and Christopher, she would opt for Jeremiah, and that was
because she was genuinely convinced that he loved her. Yes, every
time she looked him in the eyes, she always read vows, saw promises
of forever. Unlike Christopher who was always full of himself and tried
bossing her, Jeremiah was humble and always found it hard to even
say the intimate things he felt for her, and besides, he made up for
this in a way that for Jessica, was even sweeter; writing down his
thoughts and feelings in the lines of poetry, he often evoked the
innocent implication of words, wrote verses and spoke dreams in
worship of her.
She loved him and regretted cheating on him, but no, she was
simply playing a game and enjoying her time at campus.
And Christopher, he always acted tough, even bossed her
around, but she was conscious that, every time he saw her, he was
intrigued by her beauty and for this Jessica felt proud.
For now though, she just wanted to explore her new phone. For a
start, she was going to record with it, a video clip, so she would keep it
as a memory. To do this, she didn’t require the help of another person;
the phone was up-to-date and could be set on automatic mode.
On her left was a two feet fridge that stood at the corner, it was
the best location for the view of at least three quarters of the room.
And so, tip toeing, she balanced it between a note book and the glass
cup so it would not fall.
 Looking up at her wall, she took note of the time on the clock;
11:54:00 Pm. Enough time for her to prepare
“Yes! There you are; five minutes and you will begin to capture a
25- second movie, I am the actress!”

Somewhere in the darkness, Christopher and his accomplice,

Ken, lay hidden in the shadows of an abandoned incomplete structure.
Christopher’s head kept aching, it often did, every time he had to
deny someone any chance of regretting a wrong committed against
him. And now, as he patiently waited for the hour of reckoning; his 20
seconds of judgement, he wondered if it would be a fair trial!
He didn’t think so, she had cheated on him for a long time and
tonight he was going to make her pay for it. He was going to put her
to her place.
Caressing the revolver that was securely tucked beneath his belt,
he grinned, supremely conscious of its power.
“Hurry up man, about time!”
“I know!”
“Go, I’ll watch yo’ back”
“You better”
“You know I always do” replied Ken.
“Not when you almost fucked it up last time”
Christopher still recalled a day four month’s back when they had
executed a similar mission; then, Ken, stationed to watch over the
outside as Christopher infiltrated the rear of the same hall of
residence to kill, in cold blood another one of his victims, had not been
alert enough to read the entry of police detectives; a mistake that had
almost had them lose there lives after a fierce shoot-out. Ken,
Christopher never doubted, had wits; He could read danger in his
sleep and Christopher suspected something must have gone terribly
wrong minutes prior to the shoot-out. Regarding that incident,
Christopher had wondered how the police had intercepted them but
he was convinced the police had bumped onto them by accident; of
this he was sure because he knew everything about the campus with
precision; the number of security operatives and all the secret
entrances even unknown to some University administrators. And
talking of the security operatives, Christopher knew them not a
number enough to stand the ruthlessness and cunning of his element.
Besides he knew most of them ; they were even friends, and they
always permitted him entry at any time of the day or night, whenever
he came to the campus to see either Jessica or any other of his string
of girlfriends; he knew them in and out, knew the time they slept
most, the type of guns they carried and the places, within the campus
that they liked to inspect, and besides this, he was the son of a top
military officer and had, with him, the genes and instincts of a soldier.
That fateful meeting that had resulted into a shoot-out and left
the police a number less, Christopher, was convinced, was an
accident; a coincidence. And for Ken’s part, Christopher suspected
that he must have taken one to many of his drug mixtures, a thing
that must have altered his balance. Nevertheless, Christopher had
never lost trust in Ken’s ability. That very night, he had proved his
worth by the ruthlessness with which he had responded after his
mistake. Releasing every one of his bullets, he had held back the
police until Christopher had safely exited the hall and thus saved his
life.
“You mean the last time you almost got killed?’
“No, the last time you almost got me killed”
Chuckling, ken’s own memory raced back to that night; it had
been the longest minutes of his life and it amused him remembering
that he had actually dozed off moments after leaning against the back
of a tree in what had turned out to be the climax of an act in a movie
that had featured him in a drunken state.
Minutes earlier, swapping drug by drug, he had gone heights!
Nevertheless, he had been able to recover in time and save the
situation. For him it had been like a movie and he had featured in the
main cast; and what more, that particular shootout had actually
commanded more news in the media than the events of the entire
week combined. It had made the headlines for days because, besides
the actual murder of Christopher’ estranged girl friend, a police officer
had also fallen victim and Ken was sure it had been by the barrel of his
gun.
After that incident, the media frenzy had seen the public and
government critics draw a multitude of conspiracies and to sum up the
mystery, a film firm was actually in the final touches of a depictive
fiction movie.
One thing for which Ken would honestly agree with them was in
the fact that, it would actually be marketed as ‘a true story’ and he
believed them.
Teasing with a wry smile, Ken added what, he was conscious,
Christopher already knew.
“And who was it who saved your ass?”
 “Well, this time I don’t need any risks man; just keep your head
sober”
“And I hope you do your part nice and clean because I swear by
heaven, I will deny you every day of my life should you leave any
clue”
“Just trust me”
Looking at his wrist watch, Christopher took notice of the racing
time; 11:54:00 Pm. He and Ken had now lain there for the last two or
so hours and now the time had come. The mission had to be clean and
smart.
“Right, I am going.”
“Twenty seconds, hear me? - A twenty- second operation.”
“No, twenty five seconds”
“We go by plan Chris”
“Trust me man, I intend to give her a full dose”
“The mission- our mission is to kill her, period.”
“People, Ken, do not fear to be dead....”
“What?” queried Ken.
“….and you of all people should have known this by now. What
people dread of death, is the process- hear me? The last moments of
realising that not even God can save you. And for Jessica’s betrayal, I
am going to make that process as painful as possible. Believe me; I
am going to make her wish she had never known me-another five for
that, you know? Injury time”
Grinning, Ken was amused by Christopher’s deduction; it was the
reason he I idolised him, although it never stopped to intrigue him
why for the second successive time running, his friend was after the
life of a girl he once claimed to love.
For his part, Ken’s child hood had all nearly been spent living
with men in a family that had only one woman: his mother. He didn’t
know what it meant to fall in love and very often wondered why
relationships such as Christopher’s turned out that way. He only
sympathized for his remaining string of girl friends because
Christopher had complained of all of them cheating, and Ken was sure
they were next in the firing line.
For Ken, love was a punishment and he had sworn it would take
time before he would similarly begin to chase after girls, for now
though, he would simply continue to read Magazines and maybe play
supporting roles in Christopher’s movies and right now, the film was
on, and this time he wasn’t prepared to risk anything; for in this, he
had only taken a little of his drug mixture and that, he was sure would
help revitalize him without altering his bearings.
“You are a genius Chris; I wonder why you didn’t do medicine,
you would have done better than waste time doing, what? They call it
a business course; and even more insulting- that a bachelors!”
“Punk, you know we have so many doctors in our family, if we all
did medicine, who would treat the other and besides, they are all rich,
my father wants me to manage their accounts! And you…... what
course did you say you are doing? Oh, I get it, Bachelor of Arts in Arts,
not even Arts in sciences!”
Smiling, Ken inwardly thought Christopher’s joke was well
founded. He had personally always wondered why for heavens sake
his course was referred to as such; they should have at least called it
something else. Anyhow, he didn’t even remember the last time he
had attended a lecture.
Opposite him, Christopher was amused, it was only one of the
few times that Ken smiled; he seldom did, and Christopher knew he
was happy. This time, he was convinced, Ken was at his best and he
counted on him.
“You know I’ve always detested that course”
Waving off his friend, Christopher raised his wrist hand and
pointing to the watch, communicated urgency.
“Forget it Ken, we’ll talk about that later, for now though we have
some business to attend to”
“You are the one who started; any how, I hope you don’t forget
your Math, twenty five seconds and no more, and please, for Christ’s
sake, do it fast and well. I am still too young to rot in jail”
“This is my mission man; just watch my back. For any suspicion,
you back me up”
“You can trust me on that”
Adopting a killer look, Chris and Ken both stretched their hands
so their fists could knock in a familiar display of resolution and Chris,
withdrawing his hand, glanced at his watch; 11:59:36.
“Jessica, here I come.”

Jessica, half naked as she prepared for the camera, was taken by
surprise when she heard a knock on her door. Who was that again
knocking at her door at this time of the night? she wondered. Pauline,
her neighbour, most likely, she always had a habit of visiting in the
late hours. Well, get done with her quickly before she interrupts the
occasion. She audibly sighed and hurrying to open the door, was haste
to turn the door knob.
Behind her, the clock read 11:59:41 pm

“Chris!”
And on her left, somewhere at the top of the fridge, a click went
off.
11:59:45.
“Chris, what are you doing here at this time of the night?”
“You whore; I’ve come to send you to hell”
And looking at his eyes, Jessica thought he meant it, yet her
confusion didn’t allow her to believe it, maybe he was joking; he had
to be.
But she was wrong.
Swiftly grabbing her by the hair, Christopher whirled her towards
him, meeting her face with a timed punch, followed by another,
another and another to the abdomen; each professionally executed.
Now Jessica, didn’t doubt, he meant to hurt her, and so, caring
less, decided to make an alarm, shout for help. But Christopher was
too fast for her.
Forcing a piece of wool into her mouth, he chocked her, took a
glance at his watch; 11:59:50. It was time.
Withdrawing his gun with the dexterity of a professional,
Christopher pointed it at Jessica, who now, standing against the fridge,
trembled like a mouse before a cat. Agape, she stared with
unbelieving eyes; a gun? Was this how deadly the man she had been
dating was?
Christopher grimaced and savouring the fear he saw on her eyes,
stole another look at his watch; 11:59:56, injury time.
Drawing a deep breath, he silently took his count.
0ne, two, three!
‘Chris no…..Chriii…sss!!....’

A few meters away, Ken heard an echo of a familiar sound and

muttered to himself “Hmm, finally!”
He looked at his watch; 12:00:00.

Corporal Augustine’s face, though calm and relaxed, hid a

profound anger and bitterness inside his heart.
 In all his 20 years of Police service as a chief investigator, never
once before had he encountered a criminal act executed with such
expertise; such sophistication.
Another murder and not the slightest evidence; Captain
Augustine shook his head and murmured to himself ‘professional,
simply professional.’ and running his tongue on his upper lip,
wondered if his law professors had not been wrong; that ‘No crime
leaves behind no evidence’ they had told him. And that, for a serial
murder, they had concluded, ‘Evidence could only be found in two
places; either in the footprints of a stranger or in the laughter of a
friend’, Period. For Augustine, experience concurred with that
assertion, but the last two murders that had all transpired in the same
area-same campus, had shown no respect for the intelligence that had
earned him a series of honours and straight recognition from the
government big wigs and thus earned him this job as a chief
government investigator; yes, he wasn’t seeing anything and he was
getting tempted to conclude that, this particular murders were the
exception to the rule. He hoped, prayed his job was still safe.
The murders were high profile especially given that they had
successively transpired in the country’s most illustrious University and
for the second successive time, the nation had received no
explanation.
The murder news had hit the airwaves and the headlines were
unforgiving.
‘Another murder in our dear university’
‘Serial murderer in the loose’
Others were even implying the knowledge and probable
involvement of the government in these murders. That, according to
them, was the reason why the culprit had not been apprehended.
Implicating the government, they called for the resignation and
trial of his superiors.
‘The government- does it know the truth?’
‘How professional is the police force?’
Even peasants, men and women who had never seen a black
board were calling him a savage amateur and now his bosses were
haste for the culprit to be apprehended. This time, even he was
conscious, did not have to pas without somebody having to carry the
blame. Yes, even if it meant implicating the innocent with the hope of
cooling down the public outrage as he bought time to try and get hold
of the real murderer, or murderers, whatever it was, he was going to.
Somebody had to be blamed and he was beginning to scourge his
memory of the names of some notorious criminals who had until then
just been released from serving related sentences. They would have
to carry the blame, at least until the real culprit would be got; that is
assuming it was possible. The knowledge of this greatly bothered the
honest person that Augustine was, but he had no choice; the situation
was fast becoming a matter of national security and explanations had
to be given, true or false, it didn’t matter; But for how long? Augustine
wondered. The public would demand for a trial and he was conscious
of the complexity of proving a murder case. The courts of law would
require evidence and he shivered to know that he didn’t have even
the slightest of evidence, and that, Augustine knew from his twenty
years of judicial practice, was more important than the culprit himself.
Culprits had many a time been left to go Scot free because of lack of
evidence, and for murder, well, that was a different story all together;
you needed solid evidence; a damn solid evidence.
Looking up to the roof, he sought to curse heaven and smashing
his fist against the fridge in a familiar display of frustration, covered
his ears as glass splintered on the floor with a cracking sound that left
his ageing ears echoing with fuzzy sounds.
Resolute to quit the room, and now choosing his steps in a
regretful attempt to dodge the broken glass, his eyes caught sight of a
bright blue light blinking from some where to his left.
“What have we got here?”
And bending to pick up the phone, Corporal Augustine refused to
believe his eyes.
‘Good heavens!’
Scratching the tip of his nose, it was as if everything was
beginning to reveal in a space of moments. Replaying the clip on the
phone, his memory recalled a raw image, compared and confirmed his
suspicion; somewhere amidst a crowd of sympathisers stood a man
who matched every detail of the image on the cell phone.
Corporal Augustine swore.
‘What impudence!’
And calling up his security officer; whispered.
‘Mike, we got company!’

Ebitu Larmbert
+256-714778566