The Devil Wears Okrika

Chapter 16

My love for you knows no bound
You knocked me out in the first round
It goes beyond the physical
You're my soul mate
Please forgive me for my actions
I didn't mean those words
I am ready to wait for you
Till you're ready
Because I love
I don't love you because I need you
I need you because I love you
I want to be with you and not just your body.
Please forgive me. I'd like to see you tonight if you truly forgive me..around 11pm at our normal spot?
your love
-p.o-

"P.o...What does that stand for?" Amara asked as she finished reading the letter out.
The girls had no idea. They all sat on Ezinne's bed apart from Amara who paced round
the room as she read the letter.
They had gone with Ezinne to retrieve the letter. Amara kept stressing the point that precious time was fast wasting.
"Wait it seems they had a quarrel...he obviously wanted sex but she must have refused, I recall Ozioma was bent on preserving her virginity" Ezinne said.
Amara nodded. She could remember Ozioma had been very vocal about it.
"Oluchi...is your surname not Okon?" Maama asked suddenly with a thoughtful expression on her face.
"Yes it is, what's your point?" Oluchi replied rather harshly.
"P.o....Paul Okon"
"You must be mad!" Oluchi jumped up. "How dare you!"
"Relax, don't eat me biko, it's just a suggestion"
"What kind of suggestion is that?" Oluchi was obviously upset. It was a good thing she couldn't breathe fire if not beauty for ashes would have been Maama's case.
"Wait...wait...wait first" Amara intervened "Oluchi you can simply check the writing if it's similar to Paul's own"
"It's not the same" she said without looking at the paper and folded her arms.
"Wait. I don't understand...are you saying Paul is the killer?" Ezinne asked as she stared incredulously from the bed.
"No...of course not" Amara said hurriedly when she noticed Oluchi's expression had darkened.
"We already know who the killer is; have you forgotten it's Okwudili...we're only curious about who was dating our friend back then"
"Exactly...I don't know why Oluchi is getting upset...besides that your brother seems like a player" maama said jokingly in an effort to lighten the mood.
"It can't be possible. My brother has been in Lagos for the past 3 years...he wasn't around when Ozioma was having a relationship" but even as she said this she looked at Amara and her friend's expression said it all: how could they be so sure...he could have as well been in the next village close by all along answering to 'Emeka'.
"Fine...I'd check. I know His writing very well anyway!" Oluchi rolled her eyes and collected the paper. Her eyes scanned the words for some seconds as she seemed to scrutinize the writing.
Finally she handed the paper back to Amara "no...It's not his handwriting...Paul's writing is more block letters but this is slanted"
"Okay...you see no problem" Amara said as she collected the letter. She wondered how far one was willing to go to protect the sibling. She knew she was willing to go the extra mile to protect her sister (Joy) and she knew Oluchi loved her elder brother.
She didn't believe her...not until she confirmed for herself that the writing was different.

.·.·.·.·.·
"Stevenson..." Osi called out as he approached the house.
The European lived in a small but handsome self contain apartment. Dé Nwachukwu had given him the address along with the extra information that the house had been provided for him from the village purse. The European was deeply loved and respected by the people of Amaife.
Osi could see him on the verandah hunched over a notepad as he scribbled furiously. He had on a pair of reading glasses and as he looked up he looked different.
"Ah pastor, what a pleasant surprise" he leaned back and smiled as Osi proceeded to climb the short steps.
"Sorry to barge in like this. Hope I'm not disturbing your work?"
"No...Not at all" he replied but he looked up in a 'what can I do you for' gesture.
Osi stammered. He didn't really know how to go about this...he had left the house this morning full of rage and the disturbing image of the dead woman playing behind his eyes. He knew he had to play hardball now. He had to ask questions...ask the right questions and ask directly and the European was the first name to come to mind. But now here he was watching that polite smile and he didn't know how to go about it.
"I find this your work fascinating...I have this respect for writers...especially academic writers. I used to suck at writing...letter writing was always an F for me back in school" he smiled sheepishly as he tried to get the conversation going.
"Ah...well believe me its not your passion. If not you'd be good at it...you'd get better at it"
"Hmm...But I mean yours is quite unique...writing about African culture"
"Well its my field" He sighed impatiently "I'm sorry but you kind of caught me at a bad time...I'm fully immersed in comparing a particular 16th century Ireland festival with the masquerade festival they had two months ago...strangely there are as many similarities as differences"
"Ok...lest I forget. Where were you last night?"
"I beg your pardon?" Stevenson tensed, just slightly but Osi noticed.
"I mean last night...I wanted to talk to you about tomorrow's service but I didn't see any sign of you"
"Really...what time was this?" Steve asked with a frown
Osi flashed back to the body...he tried to estimate the likely time of death...if rigamortis had already set in by morning then the death might have occurred around midnight.
"Errm...well it was quite late. I think just before 12 midnight"
"Woa...midnight...I was tucked in, far away in dreamland by then" he smiled as he said this but Osi thought his voice had an edge.
He waved it off as paranoia as he joined Stevenson in his exaggerated laughter.
"I should have been asleep too but too many thoughts about the crusade..." he said trying not to sound rigid
"I understand...please I'd appreciate if you come back or better still I'd come see you when I'm done...I need to finish up this chapter today"
"Okay no problem forgive me for disturbing"
Osi took his leave thinking of what he had just learnt. So Stevenson had been at home during the time of the murder. He had also been alone meaning there was no one to vouch for him. That alibi was poor indeed....Very poor.