Chapter 2: When Suspicions Go Deep

The next day, I reach office early, Timi already dey wait for my desk. Him dey tap table like drummer, eyes red, serious.

I no waste time. "Last night you say something dey wrong. Wetin exactly?"

Timi begin yarn. He don live with him grandma for old people home, plenty blind people there. He sabi their ways—the way dem dey arrange things, move, use sound. "If you dey with blind person, e go show for body."

But with my babe, e say, "She dey act blind, but the spirit no dey there. No be like my grandma."

I no understand. I joke, "O boy, old people get their own. Maybe young person style different."

Timi stubborn. "Make we arrange dinner, make I observe her."

I agree but warn am: "Abeg, no try rubbish. Just observe."

All day, my head no fit concentrate. I dey replay every strange thing. If she no blind, why pretend? If she blind, how she dey do all these things? She see my messages last night? But she never harm me—wetin she want?

Timi book table for boat restaurant for River Udo. Big place, lights everywhere, river dey shine like oil.

As I lead my babe enter boat, gentle rocking make her hold my hand tight. I hug her, whisper, "No fear, I dey here."

Inside, elegant music dey play. Place full, always booked. As I ask for table, I look back—she dey face Timi direct, as people dey waka pass. E surprise me.

She sabi Timi—na him try test her before. My heart skip. She fit dey use eye, not ear.

Timi act normal. For dinner, him joke make my babe laugh. Atmosphere relax me small.

Waiter bring three drinks. Timi hand us drink. My babe feel around, pick glass, sip small.

She move hand like person wey dey use sense of touch, but finger go straight for handle. Sip small, face still soft.

After she drop glass, Timi turn handle another direction.

I catch am—Timi dey test am. I dey sweat under AC.

We gist, Timi dey watch cup. I dey sweat.

She reach out again, find handle direct, pick cup, sip. No fumble. My mind dey calculate.

I no notice anything, but Timi face change. He stand, say him need restroom, waka quick.

Soon, message enter: "Come restroom."

I tell my babe say I wan make call.

Timi ask, "You notice anything when she drink?"

I frown. "Guy, I no notice anything."

He break am down: "If you keep phone for bed, you sabi where e dey. Same thing for blind person. She suppose fumble small, but she no fumble. That mean say she see am."

I still dey doubt. "Guy, e fit be luck now."

Timi bone face. We finish meal quick, no much talk again.

On way home, I ask my babe about Timi.

I think say she go say Timi funny. But she cold: "I no like am."

My heart cut small. Next day, Timi no come work. I call, message—nothing.

Lunch break, I call my babe, no answer. Call studio, dem say she no come.

Fear grip me. If Timi no show, my babe no show, wahala dey.

I pack things, rush go house. Sweat dey run my body. Harmattan no fit cool my fear. I reach house, nearly break door.

Open door, see my babe for sofa, pajamas, dey listen to radio. She act normal, radio dey play old Fela song.

"Why you no go work?" I ask, voice dey shake.

She laugh small, "Babe, why you dey rush back? Abi dem sack you?"

I explain say I no fit reach her, call studio, dem say she no come. She smile, pat sofa. "No vex, I just dey sick small."

She open arm, I sit, hug her. But my spirit dey shout.

She say she no wan disturb my work, so she rest. Voice gentle, but I dey sense lie.

I hug her tight, force myself show love. My heart dey beat kpokpo.

I still dey sweat, glance AC—green light dey on. But room hot. That mean say she just come house, just on AC.

Na that moment I realise—she just on AC, just reach house. My mind dey do mathematics.

I stay calm, say I dey go back work. She nod, kiss my cheek—cold lips, pass harmattan.

At door, I see her boots for rack, sole get fine sand. Na seaside sand—why she go beach for harmattan?

Back at work, I no fit focus. Call Timi, no answer.

Night, Timi girlfriend Morayo call—voice dey shake. "Abeg, you see Timi? He never come house." Colleagues confirm—Timi never show.

Days pass, no news. Police station, CCTV show Timi last seen for seaside square.

Police station smell of sweat, old file, frustration. My mind dey break.

Why Timi go seaside? I remember sand on my babe boot. Maybe she go there too. Connection dey?

My skin crawl. Same sand, same day. E no fit be coincidence.

Officer look me, my mouth dry. If I talk, dem fit say na craze.

Should I confront my babe? If I keep guessing, I go mad.

I jam key, sweat for palm, mind made up—today I must find answer.

Studio locked. I call her. She say, "Na studio I dey, na work day."

I lie, "I go pick you later, make we chop catfish pepper soup."

Studio lock—why she lie?

Just as I wan go, man shout from upstairs—familiar voice. Na Timi!

My body dey shake. I climb pipe, peep window. Wetin I see make my leg weak. Fear grip me like wet wrapper.

Inside, Timi dey kneel, wound full body, studio owner dey stab am for neck. Blood dark like engine oil. My babe dey there, face dey shine, eyes open, dey enjoy wetin dey happen. That gentle look don disappear.

I grab phone, try call police, but pipe break, I fall. Studio owner rush window, wahala burst.

I run go front, shout "Police! Murder dey happen!" Knock door till my hand red. Tears for eye.

No back door, windows get bars. If police come sharp, all of dem go dey caught.

Soon, studio owner open door, ask polite, my babe back to blind act. Their face calm, like nothing happen. My head dey scatter.

I point, words no come. Hand dey shake, fear grip me.

Police arrive. I rush talk, "Officer, Timi dey inside! Dem kill am! Search everywhere!"

Male officer shock, alert. Tell female officer to guard door, prepare search.

Suddenly, girls come out, dey laugh, instrument for back. Like say na music lesson just finish. I shout, "Hold them! Dem dey involved!"

Officer say, "If we see anything, dem no fit waka. But now, no evidence."

One girl carry big instrument case. I hold her, "Open am!" She dey shake. Officer say, "Madam, abeg, open your case."

She open—just expensive cello. My heart drop. Timi still dey inside.

We search studio—room, toilet, cupboard. No sign. Night don fall, hope die.

"You sure say you see them kill person?" officer ask. "I dey sure!"

"Anybody comot?" "No, I dey for door since."

"Maybe dem get secret room," female officer suggest.

Police team come, tools, flashlight. Place turn crime scene. Nothing. My hope die. Night breeze cold.

CCTV show after I reach, till police come, nobody leave. Nothing suspicious.

I sit for gutter, head for hand. Empty, like person wey lose way for bush. For Lagos, even devil fit hide for plain sight. That night, I no fit close eye.