Colossal loss

Chapter Ten - Colossal Loss

Jack and Moses stepped out of the police station in silence.

They had spent hours answering questions and listening to investigators.

There was no suspect, recovered vehicle, useful CCTV footage, or breakthrough.

The investigation into Jack's workshop had reached a dead end.

Moses sighed as they walked toward the car.

"All this time, and they have nothing."

"They have nothing because whoever did this knew exactly what they were doing."

"What do you mean?"

"The money was stolen from my account the same day every vehicle disappeared from my workshop. That's not a coincidence."

"You think the two incidents are connected?"

"I don't think," Jack replied quietly. "I know they are."

The financial crimes department had begun investigating the unauthorized transfer from his account, but investigators had found no useful trail.

Meanwhile, the police were trying to understand how an entire workshop could be emptied without anyone noticing.

His account was attacked. His workshop was robbed. Customer vehicles disappeared. Even abandoned cars had been taken.

Someone had deliberately decided to destroy him financially.

Before Jack could find an answer, his phone rang.

"Mr. Jack, when are you going to pay me for my car?"

"Sir, I've already explained that I'm working with the police."

"I don't care about the police!" the man shouted. "I gave you my car for repairs. It disappeared from your workshop. You are responsible."

"I understand your frustration."

"Then pay me!"

Moses shook his head.

"They are all coming," Jack replied.

Several customers were waiting outside.

Some demanded immediate compensation. Others threatened to sue. One man even accused Jack of stealing the vehicles himself.

Jack tried to explain, but nobody wanted explanations. They wanted their cars or money.

Then came another problem.

Some missing vehicles were abandoned cars that had remained at the workshop for years. Their owners suddenly appeared, demanding compensation.

One man arrived with a lawyer.

"This vehicle belonged to my late father," he declared. "If you don't pay me, we will meet in court."

"Sir, that car had been sitting here for years."

"And you were responsible for keeping it safe!"

Another customer stepped forward.

"My lawyer has already prepared the documents."

Then Moses quietly said something that made him freeze.

"Jack."

"What?"

"Remember the Porsche?"

"The customer's Porsche."

The Porsche was a luxury vehicle brought to the workshop for repairs.

It was worth forty-two million naira.

That vehicle represented a financial disaster Jack could not absorb.

"If they demand the full value of that car..." Moses began.

"I know."

Jack looked toward the empty workshop. Everything was gone.

And now people wanted compensation for things he had not stolen.

Moses lowered his voice.

"This was orchestrated."

"By whom?"

But somewhere in his mind, a name flashed briefly.

Julian.

There was no evidence connecting Julian to the crime. Yet the timing was too perfect. The attack had happened immediately after Julian's failed attempt to get close to Jennifer.

Jack had refused to surrender his relationship. Now his business and bank account were attacked.

Could it really be a coincidence?

But he knew one thing.

He needed money. A lot of it.

That evening, he visited a bank to discuss a loan.

His land at Oshodi was his strongest remaining asset. After negotiations, he decided to use the property as collateral.

It was painful because the land represented years of hard work, but he had no choice.

If he did not settle the customers, lawsuits would bury him.

He was about to sign when his phone rang.

Jennifer.

"Where are you?" she asked.

"At the bank."

"Why?"

"I need a loan."

"What for?"

Jack explained everything.

Jennifer listened without interrupting. When he finished, she was silent for several seconds.

"How much do you need?"

"More than I can raise."

"That wasn't my question."

"About fifty million would help."

"I'll send it."

"What?"

"I said I'll send you fifty million naira."

"Jennifer, no."

"I'm not asking."

"You can't just give me fifty million."

"I can."

"Jennifer..."

"You've been trying to carry everything alone," she said firmly. "Let me help you."

Before Jack could respond, she ended the call.

Minutes later, his phone vibrated.

He checked his banking application.

The transfer was there.

₦50,000,000.

Jack stared at the screen, overwhelmed.

For the first time that day, he felt something other than anger.

But even fifty million naira barely touched the problem. The Porsche alone was worth forty-two million, besides the other vehicles, equipment, lawsuits, stolen money, and rebuilding costs.

Someone wasn't simply trying to rob him. Someone was trying to destroy him.

And whoever was behind it had planned everything carefully.

Jack looked out through the bank window into the busy Lagos streets.

"Who are you?" he whispered.

Somewhere else in the city, someone was already watching his next move.