Just one more question, Matilda. I want you to think very well and be honest with me. Did you have a hand in your madam’s death? If you made any arrangement with somebody— ”
“You think I’m the one that killed madam?” Matilda gasped. “But. . . How will you think. . . ”
And, just like that, she buried her head in her brother’s chest and started crying again. The brother looked at them, anger and disgust in his eyes. That was none of Tobi’s business, unless Mr Dayo Bakare loved LIPD enough to want to sleep in one of their cells.
“Thank you for your time, Matilda. You can be going now. I assume she will be staying with you?” he asked her brother.
“Yes, she will be staying with me and my family,” he affirmed, a little forcefully.
“In that case drop your address and phone number at the gate before you go. We will contact you if we have any more questions for your sister. Ngozi.”
The both of them stood and walked out before the brother could open his mouth again.
“Did you think she would have told you if she really had a hand in her madam’s death?” Ngozi asked the moment the door shut behind them.
Tobi turned to look at her. “No. Why would she tell me if she did? I wanted to hear the answer from her mouth to know whether she was lying or not.”
Ngozi paused, waiting. Tobi didn’t say anything else.
“And?” she said finally.
The detective took a deep breath. “If Mrs Durojaiye was murdered, Matilda was not part of it.”
Ngozi nodded as they reached the stairwell and started to descend. Tobi’s phone chimed as a notification came in. He brought it out of his pocket and clicked on the screen. It was a Whatsapp message.
Visit www.pobsonline.com for more amazing stories
Tobi slid down the notification panel. He didn’t even have to unlock the phone or open the app itself to see that the message was from Kunle. He had kept Kunle behind in Homicide downstairs to wait for Cole to recieve the analysis of the bullet that had killed Mrs Durojaiye while the rest went to see about talking to the employees at the deceased woman’s boutique as well as her ex-husband.
That was a kind of reward for having brought up the sniper angle and corroborating what he had suspected from the first, that bullet had come from outside, since he hadn’t been able to follow Tobi for this particular interview.
And now Kunle had sent him a message, too impatient for him to even descend two floors.
“D report has come down, sir,” the message read. “I was correct. It was a sniper.”