Man In Black Episode 62


“Twenty-seven results.” The man was firing back replies, perhaps to prove that he knew exactly what he was doing. He couldn’t be happy with the way Mr dé Crozon had ticked him off, but Kunle was very pleased, if the look on his face was anything to go by.

And what exactly was Mr dé Crozon getting at? Aside from the fact that they were looking for a sniper, Chuks was completely lost.

“And cross-reference that with those arrived on the fourteenth.”

“Six entries.”

“Good. We shall see the files, now. Same time. One-forty, this time.” 

The man pulled up the first one. A couple were snoozing peacefully on their bed, the wife’s arm crossed over her husband’s chest. The light seemed to be off, because the feed appeared artificially lighted. A tag under the timer read “Suite”. The picture changed to the suite’s living room. One angle, then another. Couches, television, centre table. Nobody. Next. A young guy with glasses using a laptop. The lights were on in the room. This one’s tag read “Single”

Clyde’s fingers began an idle rat-a-tat on the back of his chair. Next. A lone woman tucked under her duvet. As more rooms kept popping up on the screen, his tapping grew more agitated. Five of the rooms they saw had occupants. At the last one, the room was empty, and the lights were off. Ronald switched the different camera modes, even brought up the bathroom. There was no one in.

“That’s not right,” the man said, looking at the screen as if expecting it to offer an explanation. “What would someone be doing out of bed by few minutes to two? And it was occupied.”

Dé Crozon merely chuckled. Ronald looked at him, puzzled. Chuks could tell the man had seen what he was looking for, but if he had, Chuks had not. 

“I don’t understand. You are saying the person that killed this woman was in this room. So where is this person?” 

“And the top floor is closed by midnight, except on Fridays and Saturdays when it is usually open till daybreak.”

“Wait first,” Kunle said. “I know you’re checking few minutes to two because that was when our CSIs logged Mrs Durojaiye’s time of death, right? So if he killed her on or before two a.m, it should make sense for him to be in his room by then, since he wasn’t on the roof. So if he’s not there. . . ” He faced Ronald. “The corridors on all the floors can’t be closed by midnight, now. Isn’t is possible that the occupant of this room is just outside the room?”

Ronald looked at the officer, stroking his chin. “You’re right. It doesn’t really mean if the room is empty. He might just be outside or downstairs. So we just wait for the person to come. . . ” 

But even before he finished talking, the room’s door opened a crack, then began to swing inward. Chuks pointed at the screen, but all the rest had seen it as well. Just as it opened wide enough for them to see the person opening it, maybe his face, the room on the screen disappeared, replaced by a blue background with a bold NO SIGNAL in the middle.

Visit for more amazing stories

All of them stared at it, but no more blatantly than Ronald, who seemed to be waiting for the monitor to give an explanation.

“What?” he and Kunle said in unision.

“Does this normally happen?” Kunle asked.

“Once in a while. And this one was the night shift. Nobody notified me of this.”

“And now we didn’t see who was in the room,” Chuks said. Was it this mysterious person that was behind this camera failing? It was the person’s room, so it had to be, now.

Non, non, Chuck, we did see. And I observed, but evidently, none of you did. The person opening that door was a man. I am certain of this.”

All three of them looked at him.

“How do you know?” Kunle asked.

The Frenchman shrugged languidly. “I saw his arm. The angle of the arm, more pointedly. The angle of the arm opening that door was too. . . ” He moved his own arm at an angle, slanting it down, then back up. “Too. . . How do you say? Too steep. That person is at least six feet three inches, messieurs. Not an impossible height for a woman, oui, but this height is unusual for women, you agree, no?”

“So if it might be a woman, how are you sure it is a man?” The detective again.

“Because of the arm’s size. That arm was large. And the tissue was firm as well. Muscule, not fat. Too muscular to be a woman’s. Unless, of course, this room’s occupant was a woman overdosing on anabolics.”