7 CHAPTER SEVEN: THE STRANGE GIRL

The Marshes

09.06

There was a huge crowd at the crime scene when the trio got there and the Police were having a hard time controlling them. Tony went off to do his work with a promise to give them an update and Alex and Caesar joined the crowd.

Then Caesar spotted her. He did not know why only her should suddenly capture his attention from the rest of the crowd. She just popped into his vision and for some reason he could not get his eyes off her.

She was tall and judging from what her slip dress suggested, extremely muscular. Her skin was ebony black and gleamed with sweat. She was slim with taut features right down to her legs that looked powerfully built. Her face was rather long but oval, her nose a bit big and her black lips were drawn tight. But the most interesting features were her eyes. The whites were slightly amber, the pupils as black as midnight. They reminded him of those that belonged to a leopard he had once seen at Bristol Zoo. They were cold, wild and utterly ferocious. Automatically a shiver ran up his spine and he knew he had to meet this girl.

It took him some moments to weave though the crowd but finally he found himself standing next to her. Up close she looked even more imposing, like he was standing next to a panther.

She had not noticed him. Her eyes were fixed on the scene of the crime.

" Terrible isn't it?" he asked casually.

"What?" she asked startled, turning sharply towards his direction. The full glare of the eyes hit him and for a brief second he was unsettled. There was definitely something unholy about those eyes.

"I mean the murder," he said uncertainly, "what the hell is this town turning into?" "Oh", she said laconically and turned back to the scene.

She didn't look at him again and he began to feel a little foolish but he wasn't done yet.

" I wonder who could be behind all this?" he asked, hoping his question wasn't rhetoric.

She turned slowly again to face him. For a full three seconds she stared at him and once again he felt that shiver go up his spine.

"Do you really want to know who's responsible? She asked softly. Her eyes never left his and they were giving him goose pimples.

" Er…. Yes."

"They are. They are responsible for their own doom. Now God has sent his Angel after them and there is no escape."

Caesar looked at her in astonishment.

"Excuse me?" he asked totally confused.

She smiled. A cold, wintry smile that chilled him to the bone. Then she turned and walked off hurriedly into the crowd.

"Hey" he called out urgently, "Wait a second. "

But she was gone.

Sandy's Bar

09:45

Later on in the afternoon Caesar decided to go to Sandy's Bar. Alex said he had some things to do at the office and had to leave him to his own devices. He met the barman polishing glasses. At such an hour no one else was around.

"You work here throughout the day?" Caesar asked pleasantly as he boarded a high stool.

"Throughout the day till Sunday" came the gruff reply. Even at such an hour the dark glasses were on.

"There's a myth that if you want to know what goes on in a town you know nothing about look for a successful bartender and he will enlighten you."

"Do I take it that you want some information from me?"

"That's the general idea."

"What do you want to know about?"

"What do you know about the Kebby Creek killings?"

Caesar saw the barman's facial features freeze over like the Antarctic.

"Sorry, I don't know anything about that." The tone was icy.

"There must be something you know no matter how little it is."

"What are you, a reporter?"

"Yeah."

"Can I see some I.D please?"

Caesar flashed his News Day I.D.

"Satisfied?"

"Nice newspaper but unfortunately I can't help you."

"You don't know anything about the victims?"

"No."

"Were they prostitutes?"

"I said I don't know."

"No organized prostitution racket?"

"I think you've gone too far this time", the barman said in a warning tone, "I think it's time for you to leave."

"Don't get so hyped up" cajoled Caesar. He leaned forward with conspiracy in his eyes, "There's a lot of money involved in this."

"How much?" the barman asked suspiciously.

"N80, 000"

"Just for information?"

"You won't believe how important this is."

"Well, I don't know…" The tone was uncertain.

Caesar fished out a white card from his breast pocket.

"If you have anything to offer you can get me at that number."

"Alright then."

"See you around."

Caesar hopped off the stool, nodded curtly at the bartender and walked swiftly out of the bar.

Back in Alex's place Caesar lay on the bed in the guest room submerged in thought. Normally every night before he went to sleep, immediately he closed his eyes, his mind would automatically go over the day's events, playing them out like scenes from a movie.

He remembered the day he had thrown his resignation later in the face of the editor and strolled majestically out of the office. He had enjoyed it alright but had it been wise? Such actions would make him unpopular and to be perfectly honest with himself, he didn't want to be a maverick. He never enjoyed making a scene but once he was over the edge he went all out to cause a commotion not caring who got burnt in the process. Of course later on he would regret his actions.

Then there was this matter of a mysterious late night call which he should have paid absolutely no attention to and because of which he had traveled a very long distance for information that didn't even exist. Obviously it must have been a plot by fraudsters to take his money as he left the bar. Or was it? Maybe they had changed their minds when he had exited the bar with Alex and Tony.

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But supposing the call was genuine? Then why didn't the caller show up? Why pick him of all the reporters in Nigeria for that kind of scam? The matter confounded him utterly.

What a coincidence that he should meet Alex in that bar that very night. They hadn't seen in years. Isabelle. For some reason he didn't trust her. He liked her but he didn't trust her. It worried him that he wasn't sure he could even trust himself. Isabelle was the ideal temptress, able to make you do things you didn't want to do with just a flicker of her long lashes. He prided himself that he could resist any daughter of Eve but right now he wasn't sure of himself.

He didn't know what his plans were. Maybe spend a few days with Alex while he decided what to do next. He could even try his hand at some business…

Edwin's melancholy train of thought was suddenly interrupted by a high pitch scream, which caused an outbreak of goose pimples on his skin. He sat up quickly, his heart hammering loudly against his chest. What the hell was that?

His first thought went to Isabelle. He wondered what had made her scream like that. It was too bloodcurdling to be a rat. Maybe armed robbers had broken in and they were now molesting her. He did not find that suggestion amusing.

He dived out of his bed and went straight to his bag. Unzipping it, he dipped his hand to the hidden compartment that held the cash and his Browinng 9mm automatic pistol. Puling out the latter, he made sure it was loaded and snapped back the safety catch. Then pulling a robe over his nakedness he gently opened the door and slipped into the corridor which was swamped in darkness.

He knew the couple's room was to the left. As he threaded barefoot across the soft rug he wondered what Alex was doing. He had not heard a sound from his friend. Had something happened to him? Maybe the locals were already attacking. There was probably a mob outside now getting ready to burn the bungalow down.

He wasn't a stranger to such a crisis. He had lived in Warri once and such happenings occurred at the drop of a coin. He remembered sitting alone in his room listening to the exchange of gunfire between ethnic forces sounding as if they were sitting on his roof top. He swore to himself that if the couple was in danger he would empty the automatic defending them.

Their bedroom door was ajar. He stood still for a moment slightly confused then the scream came again almost making him drop the gun. Pushing the door open he rushed in, brandishing the Browning menacingly. Immediately he regretted his action.

Isabelle and Alex were sitting on the bed both without a stitch on. Alex was holding Isabelle from behind trying to calm her down. He was talking soothingly into her ear. There was a demented terrified look in Isabelle' s eyes.

"Sorry, Edwin" Alex apologized sheepishly, "Isabelle is having a fit. It's quite normal. It's just that…. " Suddenly he noticed the gun in Caesar's hands and his eyes nearly fell out of his head.

"What the blazes is that ?" he demanded.

"A gun. "

" What's it doing under my roof?"

" What do you think?" asked Caesar, suddenly annoyed, "I found it in my wallet. I thought hoodlums were doing a number on Belle here so I thought it might come in handy."

" Get out."

"Good night, Alex. Sweet dreams, Belle."

She didn't answer. She was staring at him like he wasn't even there.

He went back to his room feeling like a complete idiot. But it wasn't really the embarrassment that bothered him. It wasn't because he had seen his friend's wife in her birthday suit that bothered him. What bothered him was what he saw on the under side of her left breast.

A tattoo. The tattoo of a Black Widow Spider.