The Bitter Enemy
SAMUEL COBBY GRANT
THE BITTER ENEMY
Two weeks later
Appiah Kube a.k.a IGP had come to the realization that married life wasn’t really a constant life of bliss. He had come to a rude reawakening to the fact that it wasn’t for the faint-hearted. Otherwise, how on earth could his legally married wife of two weeks refuse him sex just because Chelsea had lost a match to Bayern Munich.
“How can you think about sex when you claim that you are a Chelsea fan?” she fumed.
“Aww Joanna, but that different.”
“It’s not different o.. my team, our team has lost a match and you are telling me that you are indifferent enough about it to have sex?… fake Chelsea supporter”
“As for me I can’t o,” she said and turned her face to the wall.
Appiah laid on his back staring at the white ceiling and kept glancing at his rock-hard demolishing tool.
He was still lying on his back an hour later when a call came in from Koo.
“Hello Koo, wosop?”
“Am cool IGP, sorry for disturbing you this late but can you pass by the office tomorrow morning?”
“No p, I’ll do so on my way to the office but what is it about?”
“I’ll tell you all about it when we meet. Good night.”
Appiah ended the call because he knew that he wasn’t going to have a good night sleep. He sighed and glanced at his sleeping wife and sighed again.
The following day was as good and normal as any other working day but as soon as Koo entered his office, he felt that something was not right. He was proved right soon enough when he found out that his computer memory had been wiped clean including the questionnaire he had prepared for the upcoming audit with the new company that dealt in drilling equipment.
Quickly, he set to work trying to restore the data and it was amazing how the short course he did some time ago on troubleshooting helped him in dealing with it but it still took about four hours that he was able to relax after having restored about fifty per cent of the data including the questionnaire. Appiah had meanwhile been cooling his heels at the Reception for close to an hour and a half.
He then had him brought in.
“It’s good that I am my own boss now. Otherwise, I would have left a long time ago.”
“Aww. I’m so sorry. Someone messed up my computer and I had to quickly undo the damage otherwise I would have been in deep waters,” he explained.
He went on to tell him of what happened at Cape Coast and of his house being burgled.
“Do you think those events are connected to what happened to your computer?”
“I really can’t tell, but a former girlfriend threatened to mess up my life”
“Was your office door forced open? “
“No, it wasn’t. Just the PC.”
“The first step is to input an unbreakable password, and you can use my name Hahaha “
“Hahaha. I’ll think of something. I’ll like to retain your services to look into the case for me. Find everything out, the slashed tyre, the burglary and now this.”
IGP accepted the challenge and when Koo excused himself to go to the Washroom, quickly got up and changed the light bulb in the office with a similar one he had in his laptop bag. He was done long before Koo returned from the Washroom.
After IGP had left, Koo went into his Boss to report the incidents to him and also to brief him on the steps he had taken to unravel the mystery.
His Boss agreed and commended him for the steps taken but told him that the Company was going to foot the bill for the investigations. He also suggested steps be taken to beef up security to avoid any reoccurrence of the incident.
Meanwhile, IGP had begun investigations in earnest and his first point of call was to renew his contacts in all the ghettos in the Effiakuma area and Kokompe too.
Effiakuma because of the Hassana angle, and Kokompe because that was where most of the stolen item was hoarded. He also gave Koo trackers to fix in his cars, the Lexus and the Pathfinder.
“All we should do now is to sit back and allow them to expose themselves,” he said grimly.
“What about my Office? “
“Taken care of.”
A month later, Koo Hima had almost forgotten about the happenings in his life and had settled into his normal daily routines both at home and at the workplace.
He had gone to work and having finished going through some files, he leaned back in his comfortable swivel chair and pulled out a box of nozzles he had taken delivery of the day before. He opened it to find it empty. He frantically searched every corner in the office, in all the drawers but those nozzles were nowhere to be found. He had signed for them when the deliveryman from DHL brought them, and he could swear that the nozzles with their unmistakable blue and red colour codes were in the box.
He called Appiah Kubi but he was unreachable. He searched and searched but the nozzles had vanished from the box and from the office. He then called his boss on the intercom.
“We have a problem, Carlos.”
“What do you mean we have a problem?”
“The nozzles, I can’t find them. They’ve vanished.”
“Please find those nozzles, Kweku, for both our sakes. The men on the rig are expecting them. You have less than 24 hours.”
Ending the call, he called IGP again but he was still unreachable.
He then questioned all members of staff but no one seemed to know anything about them.
He then placed a fresh order for them from the local suppliers.
He also reported the case to the police but the police found nothing when they followed up to his office after even checking for fingerprints, but the only fingerprints they found were his.
Fortunately for him, one of the suppliers had gotten the nozzles from a small spare parts shop at Pipeano, near Tanokrom. They were of good quality too and at half the price of the cost of the missing one.
He sat in his office, brooding over all the happenings, believing strongly that someone was out to get him so he vowed to be extra vigilant and not lose guard.
“I am Kweku Hima. I am not going to allow anyone to mess me up. I’m a hard copper,” he resolved, “I will never lose in town.”