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The Voice

The Voice – Episode 7

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The Voice – Episode 7

A story by Alabede Jude

 

She stepped out of her new Toyota rav4 Jeep, straightened her short skimpy skirt and walked towards the gate. She banged the huge large gate with her clenched fist but a bang is not enough for the gate to be opened. She hated banging on gates, such as this one which doesn’t get to be opened with a bang, worst still, no doorbells?. She scanned frantically around the gate and she saw it.

It was hung inconspicuously on the wall far beside the iron gate, she pressed it long and hard such that it rang a couple of times and didn’t stop until a thick hoarse voice answered from inside, presumably the gateman.

“wu be dat!?”

She keeps her cool and waited for the supposed gateman to open the gate. She heard the bolt of the gate slide and then the gate opened to reveal a huge black skinned man with a frown on his face.

“wetin u want?” came the question from the man. She was indecisive, contemplating on revealing her true identity or faking it to be granted entrance. She knew well enough not to let her guard down by letting her cover to be blown which automatically means no interrogation from the prime suspect and that shouldn’t be the order of the day.

“You deaf? I say wetin u want!” the man barked looking at her in the face. He smirked, she was pretty enough to have a night out with her, but that would only happen in his dream not even in his afterlife would he have such a privilege as she dressed decently and adorably beautiful in her red sleeveless top adorned with a black short skirt, her long curly hair was banded in a way which seemed like a pony tail. He immediately visualized himself with her on bed but he knew better, that was only an exaggerated fantasy. She studied him well and read him easily like a book, she could easily decipher in his facial expression that he was long gone in his day dream, she smiled. Does she really have this effect on guys?

Well, that was to her advantage since the ball is In her court she only had to play it well.

“Sorry sir”, she began smiling seductively, raising her index finger.

“oh!” he exclaimed as he jolted back to reality.

“I’m here to see Alex” she said, still smiling

“Alex?” he asked surprised and devastated.

“yes, he told me to come see him here”

“ah! okay… come in” he stuttered and stepped aside for her to come in. She walked past him and he stood, his legs transfixed and rooted to the spot, her sweet aura wafted across his nostrils as she walked, her high heels shoe clumping on the ceramic tiled floor.

“chai! see ass, omo wa loaded” he exclaimed putting his hand on his head like the (mogbe modaran mode). He could only imagine but the reality?

wasn’t sure.

What was he thinking before?

He shouldn’t have been thinking of getting a lady exquisitely pretty such as her, he was pretty sure his qualifications were not even up to the standard, destabilized by his post of a gateman and demoralized by his wife and kids starving at home. He shrugged and retreated into his house which seemed like a cottage. She stood on the porch waiting for the door to be opened, she looked through the pebble glass, but the view was too distorted. She kept her face pressed against it, searching for movement.

“who is it?” the male voice was tentative ——— understandable under the circumstances.

“Its Emily, could you please open the door?”

“who?”

“Emily, please open the door”

“just a minute” came the voice from inside.

Emily waited, she kept peering through the pebble glass, she could make out a hazy figure coming down the stairs now. Alex Dollinger, she assumed.

His steps were as tentative as his voice. She heard the door clicked and then it opened..

Alex Dollinger opened the door wide ajar and he stepped aside to let her in. He smiled, busty light skinned girls. That was his favorite, and here is one.

“I don’t mean to disturb you at such a terrible time, but I really need to ask you a few questions.” Emily said as soon as she settled down on one of the couch in the large sitting room.

The sitting room was spacious and beautifully decorated with luxurious chairs of exquisite taste. There was a huge plasma television on the wall. The walls were decorated by beautiful paintings and work of art. A transparent chandelier hung from the ceiling.

She could only imagine how stinkingly rich he was, apart from being the son of a rich man who owned many hotels all over the country and even overseas. He could be a drug dealer too, who knows?

“Nice dress and . ugh pretty face” Alex complimented grinning widely.

“yeah thanks” she replied smiling sheepishly

“you most welcome”

He sat down also on a couch facing her directly.

“who is Wilson Cora to you?” Emily asked, grabbing a pen from her bag.

He chuckled.

“was it funny?” she asked raising her eyebrows.

“Not really, but you are asking the obvious which am sure you know the answer”

She breathed hard and deeply, this was going to be hard and not as easy as she had thought.

“Are you the killer?” she asked the unexpected.

Alex opened his mouth and stared at her. Emily knew she was out of practice and she probably shouldn’t have been so blunt, that soon. She had asked already though so she had to stick to the bad cop angle she had chosen.

“Answer the question Mr. Alex.”

“I did not kill her.” Alex said.

Emily studied Alex’s face, he looked like he was telling the truth but she could not trust her gut so much right now. Her gut was out of practice too.

“If you didn’t kill your girlfriend, how come you are here, happy and didn’t grieve over her death”

“you know, everybody mourns their own way”

“But then, why would you allow her come to your house late at an ungodly hour”

“Her job” he said and readjusted his sitting position crouching on the backrest of the couch.

“Her job?”

“please, am done talking here” his expression suddenly changed and he stood up fiercely.

“Could you please get out of my house?”

Emily’s jaw dropped, she was gobsmacked and couldn’t believe her hears.

“I shouldn’t be talking to you at the first place, I need to get my lawyer first.”. Alex added.

Emily dragged herself up, one last look at him, and she was out. She screwed up big time, but she doesn’t feel sorry for it, she was only pulling a fast one on him but it only led to a backstabbing.

There was a tendency of him being the killer, because husbands or boyfriends always have the case of them murdering their wives plus his rudeness.

Jeez! he was just too rude for her liking.

She approached the gate, only few metres away. The gateman stepped out of his cottage smiling sheepishly.

“u don dey go?” he asked showcasing his brownish teeth.

Emily almost laughed but she concealed it with a chuckle, she wondered when last a toothbrush did justice to the teeth.

Ain’t teeth supposed to be white?

As white as snow but his was brown and sparkling like gold.

“Am going and thanks for your cooperation” she said and made to leave but she abruptly stopped.

He might be useful, she never can tell.

“Take this”

She dropped her card in his outstretched hand.

“ah tank u vewi mush!” he appreciated smiling like he won a jackpot, if not even more than a jackpot.

She only nodded her head and walked out to her parked jeep. She opened the door, slid in and ignited the engine.

Almost immediately, she felt a round cold metal pressed against her back.

She squealed, and cringed in fear.

“Just drive!” a gruffy voice said from behind.

To be continued…

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