Treachery in the Yard by Adimchinma Ibe

his crew drove up, followed almost immediately by Captain Akpan. A dead Wike was a big deal. Femi was in Akpan’s car. They walked over to me while Nnadozie and his forensics unit started unloading their equipment.
    Akpan looked at me as I took a drag. He did not like smokers. “What happened?”
    â€œI was shadowing Stephen Wike. He came out of the store over there. Thompson was waiting for him.”
    â€œDamn.”
    â€œYeah. Thompson pulled out a .22 and emptied half a clip into him. He disappeared into the crowd.”
    Akpan turned away and got out his own cell phone, made a call and started giving orders. When he was done, I said, “Thompson has to work for Puene. There’s no reason for him to be running around killing Okpara’s people on his own. Unless he has a very odd hobby.”
    Akpan nodded.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN
    Femi and I then drove back to headquarters in my car. I wrote up a statement, then went up to see Chief. Stella let me in right away. Chief was sitting behind his desk, on the phone. He finished his conversation quickly when I came in.
    â€œChief, I want to bring in Dr. Puene for questioning in the Okpara bombing and today’s shooting of Okpara’s assistant.”
    He eyed me warily. “Are you out of your mind?”
    â€œI think he’s a key player here.”
    â€œI don’t have to tell you he’s a powerful man.”
    â€œThen why are you?”
    â€œAm I supposed to laugh? Is there something here that amuses you? Mrs. Karibi is dead, Angus Sekibo is dead, Howell Osamu is dead, too; now Wike?” He leaned back. “You’re on dangerous ground.”
    But he did call Police Commissioner Ahmed Abdullah, to gethis okay to invite Dr. Puene into headquarters to answer some questions.
    I went back to my office, got Femi, and we drove out to Dr. Puene’s house. We found him in the same room as four days ago. An assistant remained hovering in the background.
    â€œGood day, sir.”
    His eyes had the same wariness Chief’s had, but some of his earlier arrogance was gone. “Yes?”
    I had plenty of ways to say it. “Doctor, we’d appreciate it if you came downtown with us for a while.”
    â€œFor what?”
    â€œJust some questions.”
    â€œWhat about? This does not have anything to do with Okpara . . . does it?”
    â€œSort of. Stephen Wike was shot to death about an hour and a half ago.”
    â€œWhich station did you say you’re from again?”
    â€œState Police Headquarters. Homicide.”
    He picked up his phone and punched in a number. If I was lucky, he was calling his lawyer. I smiled. I didn’t think so. Osamu was dead.
    â€œThis is Dr. Puene. Yes. Good afternoon, Isaac.”
    Femi and I exchanged looks. He was calling Chief.
    â€œSome of your detectives are here. Yes. Yes. They want me to come in for some questions.” Pause. “I see. Yes, of course.” He hung up. Smiling. He turned to his aide. “I’m going down to police headquarters with the detectives here. I’ll be back soon.”
    â€œAre you sure about this, Doctor?” the assistant asked.
    â€œIt will be fine. I’ll be back soon. Just postpone my appointments.”
    The ride back to headquarters took about fifteen minutes.The good doctor did not ride with us, of course. He was driven in his Toyota Limited SUV. When we got to the station he acted more like a visitor than a suspect, and everyone but myself and Femi treated him that way. As we came in, one of Chief’s assistants met us—he’d been waiting patiently—and took Dr. Puene, Femi, and me straight to a conference room. He told us to wait for the police commissioner, the area commander, my captain, and Chief himself.
    I was starting to get a good idea of why Dr. Puene was smiling. Not that I had not already guessed. I told Femi to go back to our office. If I was going to shoot myself in the foot