A Perfect Suspect by Ray Anyasi
Synopsis
The husband and wife next door are found dead inside Anselm’s apartment. Anselm is on the run. The police are clueless. No one could explain how or why he killed both victims inside his own apartment.
Oma Amadi, an elite gossip blogger who insists she’s an investigative journalist, is making a ton of money giving updates on the case on YouTube.
But as Oma gets drawn into the lives of the suspect and victims and families seeking justice, she becomes more and more obsessed with finding the truth about the events that occurred inside that apartment that fateful morning.
Meanwhile, several evidence point to Anselm having an accomplice likely to be another neighbour. Oma interviews the rest of the neighbours in the guise of gathering content for her blog, and each of them seems equally guilty.
She discovers Anselm is having an affair with the wife, and the husband is an alcoholic who’s rarely home. But aside from adding spice to the going gossip, it doesn’t do anything to help solve the case.
Dapo, the brother of the wife, has sworn to stop at nothing till he avenges his sister’s death. His two closest buddies have devoted themselves to helping him seek out Anselm.
Oma stumbles on clues suggesting Anselm might not have killed the couple, at least not on purpose, and her obsession with the truth would drive her to make strange and risky personal sacrifices as she continues to dig deeper to find concrete evidence to vindicate Anselm or confirm his guilt. But she’s racing against time as jungle justice and his past are fast catching up with Anselm.
1
Three questions keep playing in Anselm’s head. Does he know anyone who could save him from this situation? Will he ever find a path to having a regular life when all these passes, if they ever do? Is there anyone on Earth right now who would believe his story?
The only time he finds a second to contemplate these questions, the answers are no to question one, no to question two and no to question three.
He paces the brief four feet space between his bed and the door. He needs to make a decision fast. His head is pounding, plenty voices screaming in his thoughts. He can still hear Sandra yelling abuses on Debola from the other apartment. He can also hear the church on the other street singing Hosanna in the Highest. The first clear thought that comes to his head is to get out of this building as fast as possible.
He drags his backpack from the edge of his bed to the center. He notices the blood on his hands have left a stain on the backpack. He smells nasty. He should take a quick shower.
He rushes into his bathroom.
His hand leaves a bloodstain on the door frame.
No, he’s not going for a date. He’s a man who should be on the run. No time to bath. He stands over the running tap of his sink to wash off the blood from his hands and the little on his elbow. He looks up to the cracked mirror in front of him and noticed some more blood stain on his chin, soiling his beards. He applied more pressure to erase it from his face. Then he discovers his shirt collar has a blood stain too. He takes it off and returns to the bedroom to continue packing his bag.
He throws in two t-shirts and a pair of denim pants. His phone begins to ring. Benita is calling. He hisses. Ignores the call till he decides the sound is infuriating on the third call. He drags the vibrating button on the screen to the red call icon. Thankfully, Benita did not call a fourth time. He’s frozen for a moment, not sure what else to have in his getaway bag.
He hears the compound gate open. He looks through his window to see what it was. All he can see is Kunle’s Mercedes leaving the gate and Joseph the gateman closing the gate.
Anselm returns to put in a few more items into his bag. He puts on his sneakers, and his face cap. Gets a change of mind and puts the cap inside the bag instead. He’s out of the bedroom.
At the sitting room he’s confronted by the reason he’s on the run.
Sandra and Debola. He hates them. He use to think they were cute how they were always fighting. Now he hates them. Sandra is sprawled on the floor, blood still leaking from the deep stab at the base of her neck. The blood has formed a spreading pool all over the tiles of his sitting room floor. Debola’s eyes are open in the deadest way eyes can be open. He’s lying closer to the entrance door of the apartment which is slightly open. Anselm has a half fear that if he tried to walk past Debola, he would come alive instantly and grab him by the leg. But he would worry about that when he gets to that bridge.
He hurries back to his bedroom.
There’s a pen on his window edge. He takes it quickly and also finds a notepad on his bed. He makes a quick note. He tears out the sheet and folds it quickly. He leaves the note next to his pillow where he’s sure anyone would notice.
Back to his sitting room, he heads for the door. Debola did not come alive to grab his leg, much to Anselm’s relief. He’s out. Free for the moment. Free to begin his new life as a fugitive.
Isioma Amadi’s favorite perks of being a popular blogger and influencer is getting exotic services for free by traffic hungry online businesses. She’s getting her nails and fingers done by this team of beauticians. Three girls in identical pink leather short gowns with brand logos on their left chests and a bloke in dreads, early 20s and constantly looking like he’s 30 seconds away from excusing himself to go wrap a fat joint. Oma likes them. The owner of the business just stepped out to arrange for the camera crew because it would be a waste of previous PR opportunity if they can’t get photos and videos from this session. Oma likes that they kept calling her Oma instead of aunty Oma or Mrs. Oma which many young people call her in her presence. She’s feeling young, these girls are working harder to make her look even younger. The dude is waiting to make magic on her hair but in the meantime is supplying all the juicy gists.
They have introduced themselves by their names to Oma, but she still calls the girls hey dear and the guy, bros. They didn’t mind.
Hours after Anselm flee the apartment; Joseph the gateman gets a call from him.
“Hello Oga Anselm, good afternoon,” Joseph said into the phone.
“Joseph, how’s the house? Is anything happening there?”
“Nothing. Like what?”
“Okay. Listen to me very well, Joseph.”
“I’m listening, Oga Anselm.”
“Go to my apartment. You will see something. Don’t touch anything. Just call people to see it too.”
“What is the thing?”
“Don’t ask me. Just go.”
“Where can I find your key?”
“I didn’t lock my door.”
“Anselm, I dey fear o.”
Anselm hangs up.
Two hours later, four police officers led by Corporal Benji arrive the building. They are taken to Anselm’s apartment by Joseph.
They put on hand gloves and start looking around the apartment with less than impressive attention to details while still trying hard to appear serious. One walks into Anselm’s bedroom and looks around for just a second or two then leaves. Benji and another officer stand over the bodies. Benji crosses himself and says something inaudible.
“This guy just waste their lives for nothing,” says the other officer.
Benji shrugs, “That’s life. We go catch am. He can’t run.”
“He go don enter Kotonou by now.”
“Na true,” Benji says and moves on from the bodies.
A third officer comes out from the couple’s apartment with two blankets. He covers the bodies with each.
Benji walks to the front of the couple’s apartment but does not go in. “You observe anything inside?” He asks the officer with the blankets.
“No, sir,” replied the officer.
Benji shrugs. He still doesn’t go in. He takes out his phone and stands beside the door.
In Oma’s apartment, the stylists are feeling good about the work they are doing. They are taking selfies with Oma.
“Oma, please tag me when you post these pictures.” One of the girls says. She’s the only one who feels uncomfortable enough in the shortness of their uniform that she had pantyhose.
“Oh, I’d tag your company handle. That’s in the agreement.”
“I mean, me. At merry underscore Sis underscore sals.”
The dude giggles, “You want her to remember that?”
“I can text it to you,” said the pantyhose girl.
“I’m afraid your boss might have a problem with that.”
“No. My boss is an easy-going person.”
“But she paid to be mentioned in a particular way. All credits must go to the brand.”
The girls start debating among themselves how selfish the one in pantyhose is and Oma decides to take a call from an unusual caller.
“Corporal Benji, what a day it must be to hear from you,” Oma said while straining to listen to Benji over the noise of the girls.
“Madam, how you dey?” Benji says.
“I’m fine. What is going on?”
“Madam, there’s something good in this place that you will like to hear.”
“Hmmm. Benji, don’t start.”
“Madam, you will like this case.”
“It better not be another house help and madam issue. People are already trolling me for those kind of gossip posts. I’m tired.”
“No, no, no. This will be the most powerful case I’ve ever given you.”
“Benji, just tell me already.”
“A man killed his two neighbours inside his apartment and ran away.”
“Where?”
“Lekki. I’m here at the scene right now.”
“Sounds like something I will like to post. What’s the name of the…”
“I don’t have plenty details so far but if you like it I will send you more details as usual.”
“Okay. Take plenty photos of the scene and send me all the details you know.”
“Alright. You know how we do it is…”
“Benji send your account number. Bye.”
Benji returns to Anselm’s apartment. He begins to take photos of the bodies covered with the blankets. He also takes photos of the sitting room.
Oma has come alive. The stylists are gone. Her hair is undone but who cares about styled hair when there’s a windfall on the horizon. She’s thinking of the most dramatic way she could spin this story.
Sitting over her dining table, which has become her makeshift work desk, she opens her laptop and begins to make a brief note. She writes caption ideas.
LEKKI COUPLE MURDERED BY NEIGHBOR
CRAZY MAN KILLS NEIGHBOR COUPLE IN LEKKI
MAYHEM IN LEKKI AS MAN SLAUGHTERS COUPLE NEIGHBORS
LEKKI BIG BOY MURDERS HUSBAND AND WIFE FOR RITUAL
She stares at the screen for a while, contemplating which of these captions is the best fit for the first post. Caption four is looking best. For all her experience in this click bait business, she would be stupid to be bothered about facts at this stage. This would draw the audience in. She can start telling facts as she gets them but for now all she wants is the attention of Nigerians on her page.
She calls her assistant, Segun Bakare, aka Shegs.
“Hello Shegs, drop whatever you’re doing and be here before I end this call.”
“Okay on my way. What’s the matter?”
“We have a new juicy case from Benji. Looks like we could milk this one for days.”
“You’ll see me now.”
She makes the post on her Instagram page with photos of the bodies Benji sent. She mentions that updates will follow later. She makes another post to announce a YouTube live session to give more details of the murders. This strategy has gotten her hundreds of thousands of new YouTube subscribers, and she can clearly see how much followers and subscribers this case can get her if well managed. She will leave that bit to Shegs.
Back at the building, Benji and his men are dragging Joseph into their police van.
“Oga police, I did not do anything,” Joseph cries.
“Follow us to the station first and explain what happened to our DPO,” Benji says.
“But I already told you everything I know.”
“You did not say the whole truth. How come he called you, but his number is switched off?
“He turned it off after calling me.”
“You’re an accomplice. I’m sure the two of you killed them and you are supposed to do the ritual and then call the police when you’re done.”
“No. No. Please,” Joseph is yelling and now crying with visible tears.
“You ritual killers in this Lagos, we will deal with all of you. How did only him kill two people? You will come to our station and explain.”
They put Joseph in the car and Benji steps back to take a photo of him in handcuffs. He sends the photo to Oma. Then he types in the WhatsApp message, “We have arrested his accomplice, the gateman.”
Oma calls him immediately she sees the message.
“Hello Oma, you are enjoying my updates abi?”
“Benji, what proof do you have that the gateman is an accomplice?”
“He is the one that called us. He said the killer called him to tell him of the bodies. But the killer’s number is switched off.”
“That doesn’t mean anything. He might have turned off his phone after the call.”
“From my investigation, there’s no way one person killed that husband and wife. He had help.”
“Still doesn’t say it’s the gateman but it sounds great for my reporting. Keep me updated.”
“Trust me, I will.”
Shegs is setting up lighting and cameras for the YouTube live. Oma sits aside, touching up her makeup.
“Our IG is going wild over this story. We already have 100k likes on the post,” Shegs says.
“How many comments?”
“Three thousand plus. Many are asking for further details.”
“They should calm down. That’s what we are about to give them. Did you add the gateman arrest to the note?”
“Yes. Over 5k people have subscribed to our YouTube since the post.”
“That’s the sweet story, baby. Our YouTube payment this month will be fire. Shegs, we have to drag this to last all week.”
“And we must be the only source of fresh updates.”
“I’d kill Benji if he gives anyone the gist.”
Oma has finished with her makeup. Shegs is also set to go live.
“Let’s do this,” she says, glancing at her open laptop showing Sheg’s notes.
He holds up three fingers and drops a finger with each count. “We go in three, two and one.”
She smiles at the camera and begins. “Good evening, Oma Gist lovers. This gist for tonight is a sad one. While we don’t entirely know all the details yet, I will bring you up to speed with what we know so far and try to make sense of it. The name of the suspected killer is Anselm Okon. They say he works for a logistics company in Lekki…”
She’s only a minute into it but tens of thousands have already joined the live session, dropping comments and reactions, expressing shock, anger, and even sermons on how the sins of the victims or their lack of tithing is the cause of their fate.
