Satans and Shaitans Read online

  SATANS AND

  SHAITANS

  OBINNA UDENWE

  JACARANDA

  LONDON

  First published in this edition in Great Britain 2014 by

  Jacaranda Books Art Music Ltd

  5 Achilles Road

  London NW6 1DZ

  www.jacarandabooksartmusic.co.uk

  Copyright © 2014 Obinna Udenwe

  The right of Obinna Udenwe to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, dead or alive, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the copyright owner and the publisher.

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

  ISBN: 978 1 909762 05 3

  eISBN: 978 1 909762 11 4

  Typeset in the UK by James Nunn in Sabon 12pt/16pt

  Printed and bound in Great Britain by CPI Group (UK) Ltd,

  Croydon, CR0 4YY

  …because you force us to listen to your stories –

  and we laugh

  Ifunanya Anastecia Udenwe

  … And tell of matters of life and death

  How he can’t wait to burst into flames

  Taking his countrymen along with him.

  Blind Bartimaeus

  Funminiyi Omojola

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Prologue

  Section I Missing

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Section II A Recipe for Murder

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Twenty-Two

  Twenty-Three

  Twenty-Four

  Twenty-Five

  Twenty-Six

  Twenty-Seven

  Twenty-Eight

  Twenty-Nine

  Thirty

  Section III Fruit of Evil

  Thirty-One

  Thirty-Two

  Thirty-Three

  Thirty-Four

  Thirty-Five

  Thirty-Six

  Thirty-Seven

  Thirty-Eight

  Thirty-Nine

  Forty

  Forty-One

  Forty-Two

  Forty-Three

  Forty-Four

  Forty-Five

  Forty-Six

  Forty-Seven

  Forty-Eight

  Forty-Nine

  Fifty

  Fifty-One

  Fifty-Two

  Acknowledgement

  PROLOGUE

  In the year 2009 AD God looked down to the earth and saw Satan’s plot to put evil in the heart of men. The evil was to come in the form of terrorism. And the war, having started in the Middle East, was meandering like river courses down through Asia, America, Africa, everywhere. God looked the other way. After all, was it not His world? Had He not the power and prerogative to allow the Satan He had trampled on to mess around a little?

  Satan, having completed the weaving of his plots, and knowing that he would not regain his freedom until man rejected him, blew his plots out from his mouth, in the form of hot air of deceit. Some men who were the followers of Jesus Christ inhaled the air – and, filled with the quest for power, fame and wealth, embraced it with utmost magnanimity.

  That same year, Shaitan whispered into the hearts of a few men who were the followers of the teachings of the Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon him:

  … do you not want power, fame and wealth? I will provide for you the means… reject Christianity. Fight the Government…

  And a marriage was woven between the souls of these men. And they derailed from the ways of the great holy prophets.

  And evil was born.

  SECTION I

  MISSING

  Then I saw an angel coming down from heaven, holding in his hand the key to the bottomless pit and a great chain. And he seized the dragon, that ancient serpent, who is the devil and Satan, and bound him for a thousand years, and threw him into the pit, and shut it and sealed it over him, so that he might not deceive the nations any longer, until the thousand years were ended. After that he must be released for a little while.

  Revelation 20:1–3

  The Holy Bible

  ONE

  Tuesday, 4th May 2010

  The house where the girl lived was quiet. All the maids were calm. The two security men, one of whom doubled as the gateman, were silent. They sat on the cushions in the large sitting room. Their eyes showed fear. The gateman was worried; he had his hands on his head the whole time. He was not sitting like the others but stood in the corner of the room, just beside the entrance. The gateman was of average height and dark in complexion, with eyes that bulged as if about to jump out of their sockets. He had a little potbelly that looked like a beehive. He wore a uniform with a badge saying Towers Security. His boots looked larger than his feet and the sleeves of his shirt were longer than his arms. The oldest woman among them sat on the edge of the leather sofa, just beside the telephone on a side stool. Her name was Miss Spencer, and her left hand was on top of the phone while the other hand flipped through the large book on her lap. The other maids occasionally stared at one another. Miss Spencer picked up the receiver and dialled the number of the divisional police office. She turned on the speaker of the phone and a thick male voice said, ‘Hello.’

  Miss Spencer did not know how to begin. She took a deep breath. ‘Good morning, Sir. Is that the police?’

  The silence in the room surpassed that of a graveyard. The strain in Miss Spencer’s eyes showed that she had not slept. There were no sounds from the television in Adeline’s room and no muffled noise of pages turning from her frequent novel reading binges. This new silence, a product of Adeline’s absence, unnerved her. They had phoned all of the Chubas’ friends but got negative responses. Miss Spencer had to make another call, a very difficult one – she needed to call Evangelist Chris Chuba. The entrance of a stern-looking man with a cleanly shaved head, wearing a starched black uniform, interrupted her.

  ‘I am Officer Leonard Omelu, the DPO, Ishieke Police Division. Our station received a call to come to this household—’

  ‘Yes, I called. My name is Miss Spencer. I work for the Chuba family. I have a report to make – our mistress is missing.’

  ‘Mistress?’

  ‘Yes, Sir. The Evangelist’s daughter, Adeline, is missing.’

  ‘The Evangelist’s daughter?’

  Miss Spencer sighed impatiently. ‘Yes.’

  ‘When did you see her last?’

  ‘We haven’t seen her since…’ she looked at the others in the room. They all looked away, avoiding her eyes. ‘Since yesterday afternoon.’

  There was a pause.

  ‘What about the Evangelist?’

  ‘He is not in the country now, Sir.’

  ‘And the girl’s mother?’

  ‘Madam travelled with the Evangelist.’

  There was a brief pause.

  ‘Chris Chuba’s daughter? Hmmn? My God.’

&nb
sp; Miss Spencer said nothing. She was sure that the police officer could hear the sound of her heart beating heavily, as if a talking drum was sounding inside it. She wiped some sweat off her brow.

  ‘I want to call my oga,’ she announced.

  ‘Heey! Heey!’ one of the maids cried.

  ‘God! We are dead!’ the gateman said.

  Miss Spencer looked sternly at the staff around her. ‘Please be quiet… the line is ringing.’

  The humming of the air-conditioner could now be heard as silence enveloped the room. As soon as the thick masculine voice of the Evangelist said hello, Miss Spencer placed the phone on loudspeaker.

  ‘Sir… Sir… good morning, Sir.’

  ‘Miss Spencer… Ah, good of you to have called. Is everything all right? You rarely call me when I travel—’

  ‘Sir. Please… Sir… there is trouble—’

  ‘What’s happened, Spencer?’

  ‘Adeline, Sir. Our Adeline is missing… We have not seen Adeline since yesterday afternoon—’

  ‘Are you drunk, Spencer?’

  ‘No, Sir. But—’

  ‘Are you sick?’

  ‘No, oga.’

  ‘Then where is Adeline? Where is my daughter?’

  ‘Adeline… we haven’t seen her since yesterday.’

  ‘Jesus! Jesus!’

  ‘Sir, we have called everyone. We don’t know where she is—’

  ‘When did Adeline leave the house? When, Spencer?’ the Evangelist yelled at the woman.

  ‘Sir—’

  ‘Spencer? Spencer? My God. Spencer?’

  The Evangelist fell silent until Miss Spencer feared he was no longer on the line. ‘Sir,’ she began tentatively, ‘we have the DPO here.’

  ‘Put him on the line!’ the Evangelist snapped. Miss Spencer passed the phone to Officer Leonard, watching as the man tried to speak but was prevented by the screaming voice of Evangelist Chuba barking demands on the other end of the line. Suddenly the screaming stopped, and Leonard returned the phone to her, realizing Chuba had hung up.

  TWO

  Tuesday, 4th May 2010

  Miss Spencer was the only one who saw Adeline leave when it was drizzling in the late afternoon of the previous day. Adeline had told her she was going out with Donaldo, her boyfriend. Donaldo had not come into the house, and Miss Spencer had not seen him. She hadn’t seen his Volkswagen Bug either. Perhaps he’d parked outside the gate, she’d thought. Miss Spencer remembered that her mistress was sulking when she left. And there was neither laughter nor smiles as she ran out of the house, into the compound and down the gravelled drive that led to the gate a few metres away.

  ‘Tell no one I have left. I will be back in a jiffy. Before you even know I’m gone, I’ll be back,’ Adeline had told her, and hugged the elderly woman. Now, if the young girl’s life was in danger, her own life was in danger too. Miss Spencer was the only one who knew when Adeline had left and where she’d said she was going. But how could she break her promise and tell the others? It would also amount to doom for her if their master found out about the secrets they kept.

  As Leonard walked up to one of his officers, who was waiting to speak to him, the door opened and a very handsome young man walked in and went straight to Miss Spencer. They hugged and he whispered in her ear, then sat down on one of the cushions close to the entrance.

  ‘What is it, officer?’ Leonard asked.

  ‘We want to search the girl’s room, Sir.’

  ‘Go ahead,’ he consented, then looking in Miss Spencer’s direction he asked, ‘It’s not locked?’

  ‘It’s open. Please, don’t disorganize the room.’ Miss Spencer was sitting on a stool, the other maids clustered around her. What they did not know was that very early in the morning before calling the police, Miss Spencer had gone into Adeline’s room and removed everything – all the portraits and drawings and artworks made by Donaldo, who was avoiding eye contact with the others. He was crying.

  Leonard called over Officer Jubril, a tall man whose dark complexion showed that he was Hausa, while the other policemen, about seven of them, busied themselves combing the house.

  ‘Listen up, I want you all to co-operate with us. Help us and we will find your Adeline for you. All right?’ His eyes wandered to a framed photo that hung neatly on the wall.

  He pointed at the photograph. ‘Is that Adeline?’

  ‘Yes,’ about three people responded at the same time.

  He walked up to one of the girls. ‘When did you last see Adeline?’

  ‘Ha, oga, master. I did not see her for the whole of yesterday,’ the maid replied.

  ‘Why?’ He was looking at her mouth.

  ‘Because I went on errands very early in the morning after I returned from morning mass. I did not come back till evening. When I asked about my madam, Miss Spencer here’ – she pointed at her – ‘told me she was not yet back.’

  Leonard straightened his crisp shirt and asked, ‘What is your name?’

  ‘Michelle Ugbala, Sir.’

  Leonard saw the crucifix around the young woman’s neck.

  ‘You are Catholic?’

  Miss Spencer made a sound between her lips, unimpressed by the laborious questioning. Leonard looked briefly in her direction before turning back to Michelle and signalling her to answer.

  ‘Yes,’ Michelle replied, ‘a devout Catholic. I don’t miss my mass, Sir.’

  ‘I see.’

  There was another young woman sitting close to Michelle. Leonard looked at her and asked, ‘What is your name?’

  ‘Demola.’

  ‘When did you last see Adeline?’

  ‘I saw her in the afternoon, yesterday. I gave her cold tea. My small madam loves cold tea, a lot.’

  ‘Where was she then?’

  ‘In her room.’

  ‘At what time?’

  ‘I don’t know!’ She folded her hands to hide their trembling. ‘It was before lunch was ready.’

  ‘Did she eat lunch? And when does she normally eat?’

  ‘1.30. But the lunch would be ready before 12 – in case small madam was hungry.’

  ‘And you saw her eat?’

  ‘No, Sir. I was doing my laundry.’

  ‘But you saw her when she left the house?’

  ‘No, Sir—’

  ‘By the way, what are you to Adeline?’

  ‘I am her nurse, Sir.’

  The officer paused at hearing that. He wondered how many young Nigerian girls had resident nurses. He watched the faces of all the people gathered in the room. He needed to be a little tough, he thought.

  ‘You are Yoruba?’

  ‘Yes, Sir.’

  ‘Which state are you from?’

  ‘Oyo State, Sir.’ She was sweating. Officer Jubril recorded that.

  ‘How far is Oyo from Ebonyi State?’

  ‘I don’t know exactly, but very far, Sir.’

  ‘If you tell us lies and we find out, we might lock you up and deal with you, young woman. Can you imagine how long it will take your people to come and save you from Oyo?’

  The nurse was breathing very hard, looking at Miss Spencer and at Donaldo. ‘Sir, please. I didn’t see her leave the house. Please.’

  ‘I think you are intimidating my girls, Mr Leonard,’ Miss Spencer said. She was ignored.

  Officer Leonard stared at another maid before asking, ‘What is your name?’

  ‘Oga, my name na Ngozi.’ Her pidgin was thick. Ngozi wore a flowered shirt and a black skirt. Leonard noticed that the collar of her shirt was dirty.

  ‘Where did she say she was going to when she left?’

  ‘Me I no see her leave, oga. But I dey when she chop for afternoon. Na me comot the plates. I no see small madam again.’

  ‘You are supposed to be Miss Adeline’s maid?’

  ‘Yes, oga.’

  ‘That is enough,’ Miss Spencer interjected. She was not about to let the maids be bullied – there was far too much at stake.

 
Leonard looked at her, then addressed the room. ‘I have noticed that you people were not attending to your job of taking care of Adeline, abi?’ He sat down on a stool close to the gateman, Moses.

  Upstairs, the officers searched Adeline’s room and her closet, but saw nothing except old clothes. They pulled out all the clothes, searched the drawers, under the bed, the mattress, stripped the bedlinen and searched the shelves. They were looking for clues, any clue at all. Another officer scanned through a collection of photographs, removing several of Adeline with different people.

  Evangelist Chuba lowered himself onto one of the plush leather chairs that decorated the room of the Canadian hotel suite where he was staying with his wife. Since he had ended the call with the officer in Nigeria, tears were rolling down her cheeks and she was asking him lots of questions, but he ignored her.

  After a moment, he stood and walked into his own adjoining room and locked the door. He needed to make another call to Nigeria. This one his wife must not hear. His heart was heavy and in anticipation he waited with dread for the line to connect.

  ‘Hello.’ The voice on the end of the line was sombre.

  ‘I think it is done.’

  ‘When?’ the voice asked.

  ‘I got a call from my household. I called the police too. They are right now in my house questioning my staff.’

  ‘Good. See you soon.’

  Chuba was angry. Is it good that my daughter is gone? He put down the phone and took a deep breath, turning back towards the room where his distraught wife awaited him.

  Leonard turned to the tall lanky man whose shirt bore the badge Towers Security, and said, ‘So, you are the gateman?’

  ‘Yes, Sir. My name is Moses, Sir. Moses Ukpai.’

  ‘You are with Towers Security?’

  ‘Yes. I did not see Adeline leave, Sir—’

  ‘Did I ask you?’ Leonard stood and stared at the gateman, contemplating something. He licked his lips and smiled. ‘What is your job here, Moses?’ The DPO’s eyes caught Donaldo’s for the third time. He was struck by the young man’s good looks. Donaldo looked away. Nervously Miss Spencer listened.

  Moses answered, ‘I watch over the gate. My duty is to open and close it, Sir. I also work as a security man, but with this other man…’ he pointed at his colleague. ‘I was inside the room reading for my GCE exams, Sir. You see, Sir, here in this compound, people don’t come in often, so we sometimes leave the small gate open. And we are not afraid of anything. We have not had any trouble before, Sir.’