A brown car slowed down and got off the main road, then was twirled into a police station after a few turns. The car got to the lot and the front door was pushed open. Caleb, a slim guy, with a dyed moustache and a black hat fitted on his head came down. His jeans were rugged and his black round neck was a skin hug. He tossed his hat into the car and slammed the door close, then pushed a button on his remote. The noise was cut short as a generator got turned on close by; the fume rising up to the sky as he watched for a short period of time. Soon, he was walking into the first building after the lot like he knew the place too well. 


A turn here and there and he was in a dim-lit hallway, long with bulbs dropping from heights, lacing the room from end to end enough to light the path. He met no officer in the hallway and wondered why things were so disorganized. He wasn't even challenged, walking that long without a check. 


Then his past association came to mind. He once worked with the force before he decided to resign, and work on better and personal projects and contracts.  


‘One or two officers must have spotted me and decided not to stop me.’ He thought. All that went down the trench real quick as he stood in front of Daniel's office. His phone out his pocket as he forwarded a call. It rang steadily. He looked left, trailing a foot step. His senses told him someone was coming for him. It was a young officer walking down the hallway. Handcuffs on his waist, dangling, generating a disturbing sound. He ended the call, not tailing trouble, then took a glance at the officer. His face said it all. 


"Non-workers are not welcome on this side of the building, young man." His thick eastern ascent dominated his words. 


Caleb lowered his hand as a sign that he meant no harm, as his other hand reached for his back pocket. 


'He is new,' his head spoke to him, but he still wanted a means of identification out. 


"Caleb Obi" He said as he flipped an ID Card, fixed in a thick leather jacket open. 


The officer studied and returned the ID. 


"I came to see Daniel." Caleb said as he watched the man leave him, only to keep up with his walk. 


"He is in. Just push." 


That echoed down the hallway leaving Caleb with no druthers than trying out his luck. It was an office anyway. 


He thudded twice and gnarled the knob to the side. A soft click came up and the door opened up slowly. Caleb peeped. His first guess was that he had opened the door to the wrong room, while hoping the officer never pointed wrong. 


He didn't miss. The surprise face getting off piles of paper was what he sorted. 


"Hey!" Daniel declared a better 'welcome' with a smile. 


Caleb walked in and pushed the door close gently. He was waved into the seat opposite Daniel's table, and there he sat facilely. 


"I came the moment I got your call." Caleb said, adjusting the neck of his shirt. He scanned the table quickly and that made him lose Daniel's opener. 


"Yeah! Yeah!" Caleb said quickly with a smile, as he noticed Daniel was looking up to him for a reply. 


"Been a while! Some jobs came up and I felt only you would go the extra mile to have it fixed." 


Caleb pulled himself together, putting his concentration in check. 


His face went rigid and expressionless. He waited for the whining to stop so he would know what to do. A special man for a special work- that was who he was. He once worked with the force sometime. It was easy to get him to clear up things that would get the force stained or called to the public. 


"Check these pictures." Daniel tossed an envelope across his table, as he waited for Caleb to do the picking. 


He opened up the envelope and went through the pictures, one at a time. He returned the pictures when he was done, then re-adjusted his sitting posture. 


His fingers forked into each other.


"What do you want done?" 


"I want him spied on... Hmm!" 


Caleb's look showed the reply wasn't satisfying, and it was left to Daniel to elaborate if he wanted to. 


"It's a murder case and he is the bait. For now, we think he did the killing and he didn't." 


Caleb frowned. 


"That is confusing." Caleb said. 


"That's why I am calling you to cast the demon of confusion out. You can!"


"Matter of agreement and time. Yes, I can." Caleb shrugged. 


"Good! We need to know who is working with him, how he is doing it and his plans. We can't arrest him."


"No proof?" Caleb asked, his brow arched. 


"Yes! No!"


"Meaning?" 


"No legit proof. All we have can be against. His fingerprint only matched with one scene, and that was the only scene that was not hidden. The victim's death was nature-caused." 


"Has autopsy been done, and announced to the public?"


"The public doesn't know! But it's too late to be compromised. A lot of people already know. It would leak."


Caleb nodded in agreement. 


"Are we chasing, or we are just watching?" 


"I don't know. He was picked up today for interrogation. He might want to be on the run." 


"Whose Idea?! Ayo?" 


"No, mine!" 


Caleb bowed his head as he touched his forehead. They just made his work more complicated. 




***


Ayo walked into the living room in regular boxers. He picked up his phone and rested on the couch, his eyes on the TV as he also watched his wife peel oranges slowly. He moved close to her and kissed her on her neck. She tried to move away with a smile. She hated her sensitivity and was angry at the moment. She shouldn't have smiled. 


He took the oranges out of her hands and pulled her close. She tried to fight him but he was stronger. He had her this time. 


He only wanted her to feel great before moving out to see Precious. He had dug out enough excuses and was ready for the explanation. His wife knew what he did for a living, how secretive he was and how bad he needed to cover up crime scenes without anyone noticing. Her idea of him being a good man, who was ready to do anything to clean up the street, was what was eating deep into their marriage. 




***


In a matter of minutes, Luta's head was at it again; telling him to run, bawling at him to use the exit as quick as possible. 


He got home, and was straightaway fetching a bag big enough to hold a few things. 


He got one in the little room he turned store. Then he went back into his room and took down his wardrobe. His heart thumbed faster like he was being chased. A pull here and it would fold into a small size, and be squashed into the big backpack. 


He was done packing five shirts. He took four blue pairs of jeans and one black one. One pant more and he was ready to zip. His door cracked open, and he made a sharp turn. He caught the shadow of a man and his heart leaped. 'Someone is standing in the lobby,' his head told him again.