Chapter 5: Traps and Clues

I no fit hold myself. I draw my handcuff from belt, grip am, warn am: “Baba Chinedu, abeg, no play. I go ask you one last time—where my pikin dey? If you no talk, you go regret.”

As I talk, I pull my hand back, handcuff for hand, ready to hit am.

My knuckles dey white. For my mind, devil and angel dey fight.

That useless man still dey mock me. “See as upright Officer Bello wan use violence? Maybe I misjudge you. If you be man, hit me. If you no fit, you be coward—na why your pikin dey bully weak people.”

I lose control, give am one heavy blow for left cheek.

Police handcuff na stainless steel. I use like seventy, eighty percent strength. Im face tear, blood dey flow, he even use tongue lick am.

Blood dey drip for e chin. E dey smile, e eye dey shine. Some people dey enjoy pain, na true word.

I threaten am again, “Baba Chinedu, you go talk? If you no talk, I go make your life hell.”

He grin, show blood teeth. “Officer Bello, the secret of your pikin disappear dey inside that number. If you no fit solve am, make we do deal.”

My heart beat quick, my eye dey red.

I ask, “Which deal?”

“Clue for evidence.”

Baba Chinedu finally show im real face.

Na big gamble. For this country, if you get leverage, you fit twist law as you want.

“Which evidence you want?”

“The audio and video wey your Oga, Mr. Fashola, take interrogate me for March 25 and 27, 2000.”

That day flash for my mind. Rain dey fall, generator dey make noise, police uniform dey soak.

Before now, even though I vex for Baba Chinedu for kidnapping my pikin, I still get small pity for am.

If na my pikin dem force die, maybe I sef go do desperate thing.

But now, I see say Baba Chinedu no be wetin I think.

Na real criminal, animal, bastard.

“You wan use your pikin death take cancel your rape case?”

I no fit understand this kain papa.

He glare me, wicked: “Yes. I wan cancel the rape case. That time, na only my confession you take jail me. If you give evidence say dem torture me, dem fit cancel my confession. Without am, no evidence, I fit go free.”

Some people no get conscience. For im eye, na only revenge dey matter.

I look Baba Chinedu, the man wey dey always sharp, as if he be mumu. “You think say any police go fit dey stupid to torture suspect when CCTV dey on?”

Baba Chinedu smirk. “Officer Bello, you sure say you no do am?”

That madman—wetin he take me for?

I talk strong, “No.”

“Okay. To show say I dey serious, I don already give you first clue. You no calm down, you no listen well. You suppose reason am like me: if na you be me, wetin you go do?”

The riddle heavy for my head. I dey sweat for forehead. Na as if police uniform dey burn my skin.

I calm, look the handcuff for my hand, suddenly understand.

My hand cold. Pig farm. Umaru handcuff. All the pieces dey connect for my head like generator wire.

“You mean the pig farm?”

Baba Chinedu look clock, mock me: “Officer Bello, your twelve hours don finish. You suppose let me go.”

I no answer am. I tell Musa Lawal make we gather team, rush go city only pig farm.

My heart dey beat as we dey move for convoy. Siren dey wail, dust dey fly, people dey run clear road.

The farm big. We call local police join, begin search everywhere.

Pigs dey grunt, smell dey choke, mud dey everywhere. Officers dey waka with torchlight, even under hot afternoon sun.

For the most far pigsty, we find Umaru wristwatch, something wey resemble im shit, and one patch of dark red blood.

I nearly collapse. I dey pray say make e just be small wound. I hold the wristwatch, my hand dey shake.

I tell forensics make dem collect sample sharp sharp.

No time to waste. The team dey move with speed; everybody dey focus.

From the scene, e clear say Umaru don dey here for some time.

But where he dey now?

Wetin really happen for here?

The pigs dey grunt, mud dey thick, sun dey burn, but my heart cold like harmattan morning.