by Aaron Ansah-Agyeman

The old man bites his lip, and his face takes on a pained look.

“I owe Shapiro a lot of money, kid. Drug money, before I was imprisoned. I knew he was gonna kill me. There was no way I could hide from him. I used to work for him, you know, before I went to jail,” Darlett says calmly. “He’s a ruthless bastard. He came to me, Chris. His proposition was simple. I have to lure you here and either kill you or wait for the police to pick you up. Then he will wipe my slate clean, you know, my debt paid so I could have my life back again. If I fail, he’ll kill me. So you see, it’s your life, or mine.”

 

“So you’re gonna kill me, Darlett? What will be the story, huh? Robbery? I came here to steal? You’ll do that to me?”

Chris moves from the window, his heart beating with fury, and Darlett raises the gun and draws back the hammer, his eyes cold and focused, a killer’s eyes.

“No, kid. Stealing ain’t gonna get you enough years in jail. Inside that freezer over there is enough cocaine to put you away for fifty years.”

Chris’ face darkens, and his body trembles with crippling fury.

“How could you do this to me, Darlett?” Chris hisses.

“Shut the fuck up, kid! It’s for my life! There was no other way, man!” Darlett says tightly.

“Don’t do this, Darlett.”

“I’m sorry, kid. No option. But I can do this much for you. A quick death, or I wait here and let the police get you. Your choice, kid.”

“You’re a fool, Darlett. You think Shapiro is gonna let you live?” Chris asks savagely. “Gaddemn it man, use your bloody head! As soon as I’m dead or captured they’ll kill you too to close the deal! You’ll be fucking expendable, man! Because I’ve never known Shapiro, and I don’t owe him. So why would he want to kill me or frame me for possessing cocaine?  Simple, somebody is paying Shapiro to get rid of me, and that somebody wouldn’t want you around as a witness, so Shapiro will kill you too.”

“No, I’m no fool. I put everything on record, see? I recorded all our phone conversations, and gave the audio to some guys to release them to the police if anything happens to me, or if I die in any way apart from natural. I mentioned this whole scam. King Shapiro wouldn’t dare touch me. It’s my insurance, you know.”

“You idiot! What judge is going to believe a bunch of stupid tales on a tape, especially from an ex-con like you? You ain’t got shit, man! You kill me, you’re gonna hurt Junior, and Effe, and believe me you’re going to pay hard either in this world or the fucking one after!”

“Shut up, kid. Just shut the fuck up!” Darlett says coldly. “Your choice. A quick death, or the police?”

And at that particular moment Chris hears the sirens.

A lot of police sirens.

He looks through the window, and he sees them!

A lot of police cars are approaching!

Chris knows his life has just been totally messed up big time. There is no way out now. He is going back to prison, to lose Junior again, to lose Effe again, to be disgraced again.

And this time it will not be for five years! It will certainly be no less than fifty years. He turns round slowly, and he looks at the man he had believed was his friend.

 

“Kill me, Darlett. Do me that favor. End it all for me.”

Sweat runs down Darlett’s face in torrents as he points the gun at Chris’ heart. His face screws up as his hand tightens on the trigger. Chris does not blink. He stands still, looking at the old man. Darlett’s hand is shaking as he primes himself to shoot, and then suddenly he screams and drops his hand.

He laughs shakily and shakes sweat out of his eyes. He looks at Chris and shakes his head.

“Shit, kid, this is proving to be tougher than I thought. I must be going soft.”

The police sirens are now deafening. More police cars and jeeps and pick-ups have entered the yard. Chris turns towards the window again and slides it open, ignoring Darlett’s warning shout.

He looks out.

Down below he can see there are a great number of police personnel, heavily armed, running towards the building. He turns around again without shutting the window.

“Go ahead, Darlett. Kill me.”

Darlett shakes his head slowly.

“No, no, kid. Remember our prison slogan? Dom spiro, spero: once we live, we breathe. Let the cops take you, kid. Once you have life, you can always turn this round.”

Chris speaks with all the venom and disgust he feels.

“Kill me, you damn bastard! I’m not going through another trial. I’m not going to lose my son again, or my wife. I’m not going to spend years in prison knowing my son is growing up hated because of his father, or Effe going through life being hated because of me. So, you go ahead and kill me.”

Chris can hear the cops on the stairs now, their heavy boots and shouts reverberating around the room. He begins to walk towards Darlett, and the old man raises the gun again.

“Stop, kid, goddamn it! Stop or I’m gonna kill you!” Darlett screams.

“Go ahead! Kill me, shoot now!” Chris shouts at him.

He does not stop walking, and he sees the great conflicts going on inside Darlett on his face, and he knows that any moment now the bullet might hit him.

Suddenly, Darlett lowers his gun. His face and arms are drenched with sweat now.

Sweat pours down his arms, and he begins to shake.

“Damn you, kiddo. Always knew you got balls. Shit, fell in love with your son, boy. That’s one great boy you got there. And Effe… damn, you see the ass on her? Jeez, hugged her once and it was sweet. Would’ve given anything to knock that ass up…mmmmm-hmmm!”

Chris stops.

There is something in Darlett’s voice that sends cold shivers down his spine. Darlett looks up at Chris, and he smiles wanly.

“I’ve had a good life, kid. Shit, I’m old. You’re young, you got the rest of your life ahead of you. At least, you’ve given me a conscience. I’m sorry I put you in this shit, kiddo. Listen, you can’t go out there. They’ll kill you. Your only chance is that window. If you can jump out far enough, you can land in that pool of water, or maybe in the mud. Anywhere else and you’ll break into more pieces than humpty-dumpty. That’s your only chance.”

“Darlett?” Chris whispers, scared.

“Go, kid. Goodbye. Say hi to Effe and Junior for me,” Darlett says sadly. “Them two just about saved your bloody life today. And hey, kick that Crankson’s ass good for me. Git, kid, out the window! NOW!”

Darlett whips around, opens the door and suddenly fires two shots. Tears form in Chris’ eyes as he sees that the old man is giving him a chance after all.

Darlett is sacrificing his life to save Chris.

“Damn you, Darlett, you bastard!” Chris whispers painfully.

He turns around and runs, gathering his momentum, and then he sails through the window, catapulting his body far out as his GojuFist training takes over, his excellently-conditioned reflexes coming to serve him once more. He hears the sounds of heavy shooting and hears a scream.

He splashes into the pool of water.

For a moment, he is dazed as he sinks deep into the pool, and then he sees Junior’s face and feels Effe’s kiss. He forces his body to move, propelling himself out of the icy water. He swims to the far end. Luckily it is still quite dark, and he gets out of the water.

The cops had been very sure of themselves, and they had all gone in. Chris comes out of the water and begins to run towards the entrance. There are police jeeps, sedans and pick-ups parked everywhere.  The engine of the last sedan is still humming, its lights flashing.

Sergeant McBaiden is leaning against its side, flicking images on his phone. The moment Chris sees him it all clicks in, and he is convinced that somewhere inside that building is Dan Cuger. Chris comes out of the shadows silently. McBaiden begins to turn, and Chris slams a fist into his jaw.

The cop drops like a sack.

Chris pulls the unconscious cop into the shadows. He picks up McBaiden’s phone because he knows his own phone will not be functional after being submerged in the pool.

He gets into the police car, reverses fast and then spins it around. As he races through the unfamiliar roads he puts off the flashing lights. He picks up McBaiden’s phone, but the screen is locked, and a password is needed to unlock it.

“Damn, damn, damn!” Chris says.

He guns the car till he emerges on the main Lapaz road. He can hear sirens behind him now, a little far off. He guns the police car, runs the red lights and speeds towards Madina.

When he gets to Okponglo he spots a young man with a backpack seated on a motorbike with his phone to his ear. Chris parks the car with a screech of tires. He gets out of the car and approaches him.

The young man looks at Chris with sudden fear.

“Sorry, gentleman. Police business. Can I please use your phone?” Chris says with a smile.

The young man wordlessly cuts his call and hands the phone over.

Chris dials, and the phone rings and rings with no answer. He tries and tries, and on the fifth attempt Effe picks up.

“Hello. Who’s this, please?” Effe asks sleepily.

“Ef.”

“Chris? Good Lord!” she says, instantly alert.

“Something bad happened, my love. Please, I need to be there with you. Can you meet me somewhere? I’m using a police car I need to leave it behind.”

“Yes, yes, my darling. Anywhere! Where can I pick you up?” Effe cries, greatly scared now.

The young man suddenly touches his arm.

“Chris Bawa,” he says.

Chris freezes and looks at the man, stunned.

“What?” Chris mumbles.

“Hey, man, I recognized you. I’m a fan. My name is Joe Duncan. A wet Chris Bawa in a police sedan at dawn, two days from a fight? I think you’re in trouble. If you need to ditch the police car you can hop on my bike. I’ll take you anywhere.”

Chris stares at the man for a moment, and then he puts the phone to his ear.

Effe is shouting out questions.

“My love. Just open the gates. Will be with you in a few minutes. But I’ll use the small back gate. I don’t want your security guys to see me.”

Joe Duncan starts the bike, and Chris gets down.

He puts a hand on the young man’s shoulder, and speaks quietly.

“Listen, Joe. Something bad went down tonight. Somebody tried to frame me big time. You saved me, pal, and I’m grateful.”

Joe Duncan grins from ear to ear.

“Don’t worry, boss. I knew they were gonna try some stunt like that. I’m cool, and I’ve got your back. My lips are sealed. Just kick the ass of Crankboss. And then, later, if you can take a selfie with me, it’ll be great.”

Chris nods. Miracles still exist.

“Pass by JUNIOR’S anytime, Joe. Bring your girlfriend. We’ll hang out.”

“Yo! Radical! I’ll do that, Mr. Bawa!” Duncan exclaims with happiness. “She’s Josephine. She’ll be blown away! Thank you very much!”

They shake hands, and the boy rides off. Chris has stopped several meters away from the house. It is now getting less dark as daylight approaches rapidly. He runs to the back of the house and enters the little woody perimeter. The little emergency exit gate creaks open, and he stoops and enters. Effe is wearing jeans and a short blouse, and her beautiful face is crisscrossed with worry and fear.

“Eyram called, Chris. The police are in her house. I told her to inform them you spent the night with me. They may be on their way here. Come quickly!”

They go through the back door of the kitchen and climb the stairs hurriedly.

Effe urges him to take off his clothes quickly. Naked, he gets under the shower as she carries his clothes downstairs and puts them in the washing machine. By the time Chris emerges from the shower they can hear the strident wails of the police sirens. Effe quickly shirks her clothes and pulls on a negligee.

“Get into the bed, Chris, now!” Effe whispers with fear.

Chris climbs under the sheets, and just then the intercom telephone rings.

She picks it up.

“Hello?”

“The police are here, Madam. They’re forcing their way through,” the security man says with concern.

“I’ll be there in a minute.”

She looks at Chris with fear all over her lovely face.

“Go, my love. It’ll be fine,” he says gently.

Effe pulls on a morning robe and belts it. She descends downstairs and opens the door. The yard is crowded with cops, and Chief Inspector Dan Cuger is leading them.

“Yes, Inspector?” she says icily.

“Good morning, Madam. Sorry to bother you this morning. We’re looking for Mr. Chris Bawa. We believe he was involved in a drug deal early this dawn, which led to one man losing his life,” Cuger says grimly.

“This dawn? What are you talking about? Chris is here. Has been with me since yesterday,” Effe says smoothly.

 

“Really? We just asked the security man, and he didn’t remember Mr. Bawa coming in yesterday,” Cuger says coldly.

“Are you calling me a liar, Inspector? Well, if you had bothered to enquire further you would’ve been told the security men run shifts, and the one you questioned came in at six o’clock yesterday evening. The day security guy was here when I came in. Chris was in my car, I drove into the garage, and he spent the rest of the day with me,” Effe says, sounding angry.

Chris, a large cloth wrapped around him, appears behind Effe. He yawns as he puts an arm around her shoulders.

“What’s it, Angel?”

“I don’t know, my love. Seems the policeman thinks you were running a drug deal this dawn.”

Chris looks into the furious eye of the police man, whose other eye is patched over as usual. Cuger looks at Chris with unbridled hatred, and then he smiles tightly.

“Sorry, Madam. Seems we were wrong. I’ll advise you to stick around, Mr. Bawa. We’ll still need you in the investigation surrounding the fifty kilograms of cocaine we found this dawn and the death of Mr. Darlett Thompson,” he says coldly.

Chris’ face clouds over instantly as a deep pain tears through him.

His body tenses as he looks at the policeman. Effe almost falls down as she stares with horror at Chris.

“What? Darlett is dead?” she asks, horrified.

“He was fine when I spoke to him last night, my love,” Chris says tightly. “Maybe the Chief Inspector is confusing him with someone else.”

“He was shot dead this dawn by a police team which had a tip-off about some hard drugs. You can pass by the police morgue later in the day to identify him for us, Mr. Bawa, since he was staying with you. Good day. Let’s go, men.”

They watch as the police turn and leave the yard. Effe goes inside and closes the door, and then she looks at Chris with horror.

“Darlett? That sweet old man? Dead? What happened, Chris? What happened? What have you gotten yourself into now, Chris Bawa?” she asks, trembling with fear.

“Sit down, Ef. Let me tell you everything about what happened,” Chris says.

Effe moves past him and begins to climb the stairs.

“Come up, Chris. Come and tell me.”

 

Chief Inspector Cuger swings his police jeep to the side of the road and gets out. He stands rigidly as the other police cars disappear in the distance, and then he turns and looks at Effe’s house.

 

Suddenly, he turns and kicks savagely at the front tyre of the jeep. His phone rings. He looks at the screen and winces. It is his boss. He sighs deeply and picks the call.

“Hello, Chief.”

“Cuger! You carried half the force on an operation I didn’t sanction and have no idea of?” the Commander queries furiously.

“Sorry, Chief. It was a tip-off and we had to move quickly. We recovered some cocaine and were involved with a shoot-out with one of the criminals, who unfortunately died.”

“And the other? I’ve been told you went to Madam Effe Kedem’s house to harass her!” the Commander says, still sounding indescribably furious. Dan Cuger grits his teeth. There is a traitor in the squad, no doubt. Someone who had called the Chief immediately and ratted to Cuger. Whoever that traitor is, Dan is going to find him.

“We didn’t harass her, Sir. The man we shot was Darlett Thompson, who was released from jail just a few weeks ago. He’s a known felon, and a hitman for King Shapiro,” Cuger says, striving for calm. “Since his release he’s been staying with Mr. Chris Bawa. We went to his house to question him, standard procedure, and learnt he was with Madam Effe. So, we went there.”

“Chris, huh? Same man who burst your eye? You’re now turning this precinct into a personal vendetta for revenge, Inspector?” the Commander’s voice was filled with icy venom.

“No, Sir. We –”

“I want your full report on my desk by eight this morning, Inspector! You better show me a link to Mr. Bawa, or I swear I’ll have your damn ass on a platter!” the Commander screams.

The line goes dead. Cuger grinds his teeth angrily and scratches under the patch of his burst eye. He takes out a packet of cigarettes from his top pocket and opens the flap. Inside are three rows of rolled marijuana. He extracts one, lights up, and stays smoking for a while. Then, he picks up his phone and dials.

“Give me the good news,” Afful says sleepily.

“No good news. Everything went according to plan. Darlett, however, chickened out at the last moment and let Bawa escape. Darlett went berserk, started shooting at us. The guys had no option. They killed him.”

“Escaped? Chris escaped? Are you shitting me, you son of a castrated stupid bull?” Afful asks coldly. “It is a six-storey building, one door. We chose the location well… you chose it! How the hell did he escape?”

“You better watch your mouth, Mr. Afful. I don’t take that kind of shit from people like you. Whilst Darlett was holding us up Chris jumped from the sixth floor into the pool float, knocked McBaiden out, stole the car and drove to Okponglo where he abandoned the car. We suspect he had a lift of some sort. But he had enough lead to go to Madam Effe, who gave him the perfect alibi.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!! You stupid little stinking pussy!” Afful screams, apoplectic. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck!!! You took all that money from me and messed up? Fuck fuck, fuck, fuck! I’m gonna get your balls for this, Cuger! Fuck fuck fuck –”

Cuger cuts the call.

“Yeah, I heard you. Fuck, fuck, fuck! Stupid man!” he says with a snicker.

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