Well that is because I observe, but you only see, Chuks thought, but what Mr dé Crozon actually said was,
“I have explained my methods, no?”
“And the records here say he checked out of his room on the same sixteenth. He was logged at nine-forty in the morning. Should I bring up the footage for that one as well?”
“Shebi we have already seen the way he hid his face from all the cameras. What’s to say he will suddenly forget how to do it just because he’s leaving?” Kunle said
“I agree. We do not have time to wait to see the same results again.” Mr dé Crozon left the back of Chuks’ chair and walked back to the front of the room. It was time for them to leave, so Chuks stood.
“Thank you very much for your cooperation, sir,” Kunle said, standing as well. “Please, still help us check any other thing you feel can give us a good look at this man’s face. If you find anything, please contact me immediately.”
The guy brought out a jotter and pen and wrote something down on one page, probably his number. Chuks started walking back to the door before he tore off the page.
“We could have even gone to search the room and see whether we could find anything good to get us closer to the Eel,” Kunle said when they were back at the house.
“That is a good idea, oui. If you want to waste more time. That place is a hotel, you saw, no? Hotels mean fingerprints. A mess. And you saw the gloves he wore when he checked in, no?”
Kunle nodded. “You’re correct, sir. But at least now we know that the Eel fired the shot from Primeview Hotel, on the second floor, and that the bullet came in through this window, broke the glass, went to that wall, then into the woman’s head.”
Chuks had been sitting down on the edge of the bed, but at when Kunle said that, he turned around and looked at him.
“Wait you said the wall? Is it that scratch you’re talking about?”
“Mmm-hmm,” Kunle said. Chuks stood and walked around to the spot in question on the wall at the foot of the bed, at around chest level. Was this guy serious?
“You’re telling me it’s a bullet that made this mark.” Kunle looked at him with a look that said, And so?
“Is something wrong?” dé Crozon said.
Chuks had to make sure that he was standing in the right place first, because he didn’t understand. He looked back at the open window. He had seen the hole in it, and from there to this scratch in front of him was easily a straight line.
Was something wrong with the police or something? How could they say that the bullet that had made this scratch? He looked back and saw the blood that had leaked from the woman’s head onto her sheets and pillowcase.
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“Is something the matter, Chuck?”
Chuks turned around. “It’s just that scratch. I haven’t really used sniper rifles before, but I have fired guns. A bullet came in through the window. It’s supposed to have gone through the wall.” He poked a finger into the scratch for emphasis. “This scratch. . . I thought it’s somebody that did it on purpose.”
“I have fired guns before too, oga,” Kunle said.
“All of us have used firearms, Chuck.”
“I’m the only one that has emptied more than ten magazines just this week. But let’s be serious. Even it the bullet hit this wall with the flat side and made this scratch, it should have fallen on the ground. But look at this. The bullet came in,” he made his hand stiff as a board, his fingers stretched straight out, then hit the wall with it, “hit the wall, and now bounced off at, what, an angle of around forty-five degrees and killed somebody. Na cartoon be this? It doesn’t make sense.”
“But Detective Akano’s preliminary investigaton stated that only one bullet was fired into this room, not two,” Kunle disagreed firmly.
“And mine as well.” Clyde dé Crozon.
“One bullet was fired from an M21 rifle into this room, end of story,” Kunle said.
Ehn? “M what? M21? An M21 sniper rifle? No way. It’s too old. And number two, it has a rigid frame. You can’t bend it. And you saw the kind of bag he used to check in.”
“You’re right, Chuck,” dé Crozon said. “The M21 has a wooden frame where the M24 has a metal frame, oui, but both are rigid. They can’t fit inside anything short of a violin case.”
Chuks gave Kunle a pointed look that said, You see?
“But only one round was fired into this room, Chuck, this is certain.” Now it was Kunle’s turn to look smug.
“If it was only one round, then it’s like the bullet had a mind of it’s own. As if the woman was a magnet. . . ”
“Magnet for what, Chuck?”
Chukwudi had to close his mouth. Something had lodged in his mind when he said that word “magnet” and refused to go out. Could it really be possible?
“Nothing, nothing. I was just talking.” Kunle looked at him as if he had no idea what was wrong with him, while the way Mr dé Crozon looked at him. . . He had to look away to keep from saying anything else.
“Okay, gentlemen, our work here is done. Best we head back to LIPD now, it’s getting late.”