If you missed the Episode Eight (8), read it HERE!!!
It was already getting dark.
I ran out through the door Tiffany was pointing into the backyard of the house, the whole house was surrounded by a fence. I was still contemplating my escape route when I saw Segun circling in to where I was. Immediately I ran towards the barrier, lifted myself with one foot, placed both my hands on the surface and flew out. While mid-air I could have sworn I saw Segun holding a phone to his ear muttering something like ‘act 4 accomplished’.
I had landed roughly; I stood up feeling too much pain at my ankle. I looked around and saw a familiar face, tall, dark, on chinos. The first lanky paparazzi again! He was already taking pictures. I didn’t hesitate for an extra second as I dashed towards the paparazzi, he noticed my intensions as he quickly turned and started running away from me. I chased after him swearing that I would snap his neck if I caught him.
The lanky man luckily ran into a cab which drove him off to safety; for I swear if I had caught him…
I stood at the middle of the road, hands on my waist. I didn’t know the next line of action to take, but it seemed Segun had stopped chasing me, it didn’t bother me. ‘It was a good thing after all’ I thought.
I hailed a taxi and asked the driver to take me to my home addresss, no one could possibly do me harm there. Inside the taxi I reminisced about all that had happened, picking the pieces of the whole event and putting them together. My visit to Mike’s house, His wife, she couldn’t drive and I offered to drive her, she told me a few horrible things about Mike; a man I had respected. What’s more? My car got stolen, sudden paparazzi’s, Tiffany’s friend’s house, the s-x, phone call, Tiffany’s death and Segun firing bullets at me, his own phone call. Then the stupid paparazzi again, he seemed to have been waiting. Everything seemed like a plot and the only logical conclusion is that Mike is the Master mind. That son of a b—h is going to serve a long jail term I thought.
Sitting at the passenger’s seat of the Lagos cab, the thought of Tiffany flooded my mind. The young beautiful and talented actress whom I had a crush on first sight for, had died in my arm right after we made love. Murdered by her own husband, thinking about it now I realized I was actually in love with her.
Then for the first time in my entire life, inside a taxi cab, I bent my head and sobbed for a woman.
“We are sorry to interrupt this program to bring you this sad news.” The radio presenter’s voice jolted me back to reality. What could be worse than a man killing his own wife? I sat up and eagerly listened to what the news was going to be about.
“Today, actress Tiffany Johnson was spotted with a yet unidentified man roaming the streets. When paparazzi spotted them and started taking pictures, they ran into a compound and secluded their selves there.” The reporter was saying. But that was old news. Or have they found the body already? I thought. Segun was definitely going to clean up his mess.
“Now the sad news is that, actress Tiffany’s body was found lying dead inside the main building of the compound.” What? How could Segun be so careless? I was about to be shocked myself.
“Someone alerted the police when they saw a man jumping out through the fence of the crime scene. Thankfully a man was there that took pictures of the man jumping the fence. Now the pictures depict the same man that had been spotted earlier with the actress.”
‘That b—–d paparazzi!’ I cringed.
“When the police arrived at the crime scene and conducted some investigations, they found out that the actress had not only been murdered…” yes by her demon of a husband. “…but also severely raped” wait a minute!
“When could she have been raped” I said to the hearing of the taxi driver who looked at me suspiciously.
“Which Molest ke?” he asked angrily.
“Umm nothing” I said sharply. He turned and faced his front.
“The prime suspect of this brutal and disgusting crime is no other but the mysterious man that she was spotted with and the police are doing everything within their power to apprehend this nutcase.” The reporter was saying.
“What?! That can’t be! I didn’t do it, Mike Adewale did!” I blurted out.
“Wetin this one dey talk?” the taxi man was staring at me angrily.
“Sorry, nothing” I said quietly. Hoping he hadn’t gotten any hint of the situation.
“Wetin this news people they talk self?” he said and turned to me.
“Umm they killed a celebrity today and they are accusing the wrong guy.” I said. Hoping he gets the message.
The taxi driver looked at me, hissed and shook his head. “Oga, if to say ah dey hears English ah for dey ask you wetin e talk? Nonsense”
“Sorry abeg no vex, them say they kill one girl wey dey act film, but I think say them dey accuse the wrong person.” I broke it down for him.
“How you wan take know that one you dey there?” he hissed and continued facing his front.
I ignored him, of course I was there. This is just a blind accusation by the daft Nigerian police force. I am a victim here. All these thoughts ran through my mind until a realization hit me hard. The police was currently looking for me. My house was no longer safe.
“Oga stop here!” I shouted at the driver who immediately screeched to a stop. I jumped down and paid the driver who hissed, shook his head and drove off.
I was already very close to my house. From where I stood I could see a police patrol car at the front of my house.
I made to turn and leave the premises. I saw that bloody metal object pointed to my face; the handler, Segun.