The water was bright, you could drop a pin in it and still find it. The brightness of the moon illuminated the beauty of the water. Nature was the most beautiful thing on earth. He had both his legs dipped inside the water. The water was constantly warm throughout the year. Muhammad was sitting at the edge of the Wikki spring at Yankari Game Reserve. The time was 1:30am and the place was just the way he loved it, quiet and deserted. This was the third time in the course of his life that he was visiting the Yankari Game Reserve in Bauchi State. He always visited the Wikki spring at odd hours because he needed privacy and the only company he craved was that of nature. He had been hospitalized for seven weeks. He spent the first four weeks unconscious at the hospital. Prior to the case of The First One he had never been shot or hospitalized in his whole life but during the case, he had been hospitalized twice within a month. Just like the first time Muhammad had been hospitalize
It was 9:30 pm and she couldn’t understand why the traffic was outrageous tonight. She recalled that people went shopping on Friday nights. This was the reality of Abuja, the Federal Capital Territory (FCT) of Nigeria. Most of the workers who couldn’t afford living within the city resided on the outskirts of town. Janet Adeniran was a banker and a widow with two children. She was 41 years old and well paid because she was an accountant at one of the leading banks in the country. She was blessed with a boy and girl. Caroline was the youngest and a dazzling beauty. Kevin was studying Civil Engineering at Federal University of Technology (FUT) Minna. Janet Adeniran was the daughter of a Nigerian diplomat who had gone to work in Ethiopia and ended up marrying her mother, an Ethiopian. Janet was widowed during a bank robbery at the bank where her husband worked. Janet will be arriving home soon and the digital clock in her car told her the time was 10:18pm. She was comp
The moment he stepped out of his SUV, the first breath he took in told him the atmosphere around the house had recently been visited by death. There were more than half a dozen police cars parked around the Adeniran’s residence and the forensic team were already turning the house upside down looking for any clues left behind. He knew the corpse of Caroline Adeniran was still lying where her mother had found it, because he had phoned ahead instructing the lead inspector at the murder scene to leave the body the way it had been found.Officer Muhammad Guni of the States Security Service (SSS) shut the door of his car and dragged his 6ft2 inch stature towards the entrance of the house. Muhammad was dark in complexion and built like a boxer with a bearded square face, protruding eyes and an upturned nose. He was a widower who had lost his wife to cancer five years ago. He was 40 years old and an indigene of Niger State. All he had after the death of his wife was his job and fami
It was now three weeks after the murder of Caroline and he had been staring up at the ceiling in his office for hours. Muhammad was seated behind his desk with his brain and mind at work. It was a Monday morning. He had gone back to the Adeniran’s residence a day after Caroline was murdered. Luckily, he had met Caroline’s brother. He also met both Mrs. Adeniran’s parents and the parents of the late Mr. Adeniran. He had personally questioned them but ended up leaving the house with nothing substantial.From what he had seen and found out about Caroline’s family, none of them had anything to do with her death, either directly or indirectly. Time was his enemy because the longer he took in solving the case, the more the possibility of another family experiencing what the Adenirans are currently going through. Caroline’s death was the first murder The First One has committed since he took over the case. Muhammad stood up; he needed to visit the previous crime scenes. He needed
The moment Muhammad stepped into the forensic department, he saw the head of the department shutting the door of his office. Muhammad knew he was lucky because Mr. Jackson Olabode was a very busy man. “One day you’ll drop dead and the autopsy result will be workaholism,” Muhammad said standing behind Jackson.“Better than dying by a bomb or a bullet to the head,” Jackson replied with a smile. Jackson was a smallish man. At the age of 55 he had never been married and most people believe he was a bachelor for life. Jackson was simply a careerist.Muhammad had first met Jackson at the academy where he had delivered a lecture on forensic pathology. Unlike the other officers, Muhammad had a good relationship with Jackson because the elderly man had a natural fondness for him.“I need to see the car in which the first victim was found,” Muhammad said.“I personally delivered my report on the first victim to your department. Everything you need is in that report,” Jackson repl
Muhammad had spent the last hour going through the car without a positive outcome. The victim had been found lying on the backseat of her car with her eyes wide open and just like the others, she had not been raped. Margaret Soludo had been mutilated beyond recognition and it had taken them three days to establish her identity. The car was a brand new silver Toyota Venza and no fingerprint had been found. Not a clue was left behind by the killer. “Dr. Margaret Soludo had not been murdered in her car. She was murdered somewhere else and her corpse was dumped in her car that was the only reason there was no clue left behind,” Muhammad said to himself. It was the only reasonable theory he could come up with. From Jackson’s autopsy report, there had been no struggle. The victims were all unconscious when the coward performed their rituals on them.Muhammad couldn’t believe he was exiting the forensic department the same way he walked into it, with nothing substantial to show
It was 3:45pm when he got back to the HQ of the SSS. The HQ was one of the best and well-equipped federal facilities in the country. It was made up of buildings that were built to withstand various natural disasters and ballistics attacks. It was guarded by armed security personnel 24/7/365. It was operated by modern technology. The HQ was also one of the most expensive facilities in the country and it was located close to the presidential villa. The SSS HQ was a fortress.Muhammad had a progress analysis briefing with his boss, the Director of the Department of Intelligence (DI). He was not ready for the meeting but he had no choice but to attend it. His boss hated theories and loved results but right now all he had were theories. The director of the DI had a reputation of being a butcher because he had a habit of kicking officers with below average out of his department. Below average in the butcher’s dictionary was a success rate of less than 90%. Muhammad knew he should
The meeting was coming to an end and he was zonked out. Muhammad had been expecting the worst but what he had not been expecting was walking into an office occupied by the Inspector General of Police (IGP), the Defense Minister and last but not the least, his boss. He thought his boss was bad enough but with two deputies, he couldn’t have asked for a more tormenting triad. Monday had no doubt lived up to its reputation. The SSS never abandoned their traditions of not playing a role in politics and not fully accepting the legacies of the police but the president has insisted all security agencies unite and work together in sending thE rising doom known as The First One back to hell where he belonged. The moment Muhammad stepped into the office, the look on the face of Mr. Lawrence Esson told him there was no fire burning but volcano erupting on a mountain. At that moment, Muhammad knew that his time was running out and if he failed to beat the deadline his boss has given him, he was