The Devil Wears Okrika

Chapter 18

"Mr Stevenson...I'd like to read everything you've written so far..." No, that didn't sound right.
"I'm fascinated with your research...can I read what you've done so far?"
That sounded better...
"Stevenson can you sign an autograph for me?"
No...He needed to study the writing letter for letter, word for word...there was no way an autograph could guarantee that.
These were Osi's thoughts the next morning as he skipped down the path to Stevenson's house. Anyway it went, the European was known for his politeness. Osi didn't think he would refuse him.
He traced the house trying to calculate the distance to the spot in the woods Chinaza had been killed and the distance to Ezinne's house. He was not yet 100% familiar with all the roads but he thought it was pretty close.
The case in his head against the European kept building.

The house was really beautiful. The gleaming paint and the design was pleasant to the eyes and he found it hard to believe the villagers had arranged the house for him. He bookmarked it in his mind to ask Dé Nwachukwu if the house had been built from scratch specifically for Stevenson.
Tap-Tap-Tap-Tap-Tap.
He knocked the door, softly at first but after some seconds with no reply he increased the intensity.
Tap-Tap-Tap-Tap-Tap-Tap-Tap
Still no answer.
No one was home.
He looked around (although the cottage was in a secluded spot with no visible neighbours) and tried the door-it was locked.
"Hello...hello, Stevenson!"
No reply, it was obvious no one was home.
He walked round the house trying to peer into the windows. Stevenson was a very private person. Everywhere was boarded up!
At the rear of the house, he noticed a smaller window, this had to be the toilet or kitchen...no it was definitely the toilet as it was higher than the others.
It seemed having a window net wasn't a requirement in Amaife despite the evil mosquitoes that flew about.
He struggled with the window for some minutes but the fastened nails were no match for his determination. He wrestled the wooden window open and it dangled on one side. Probably held in place by the fastened catch from inside.
What are you doing? Why not wait for Steve to come back? The voice of reason asked him.
No he couldn't wait...he just needed a minute to get something-anything he could use to compare with the letter in his pocket. There was bound to be documents' lying about after all the man was a writer.
Maybe he also wanted to snoop around a bit. There was something off about the European that he needed to figure out.
It would have been a big disaster if he got stuck midway as he wriggled, huffed and puffed through the small window but finally he went through and almost smashed his head on the tiles.
"Wow, they even tiled the place for him" he mumbled to himself as he got to his feet.
The house was sparsely furnished but it was neat. Strangely there was no reading table, just some chairs that gave the impression of being put together in a hurry and a small center table.
The table was littered with papers. Aha! Osi strode hurriedly and fell to his knees as he scanned the papers.
None of them were handwritten. They seemed to have been torn off books and research materials. Some words were circled but they had no meaning to Osi.
He knew where to find answers: the bedroom.
The room had a king size bed, a drawer, a closet and a mirror.
The room was squeaking clean, the bed was made without a crease and everything was in place. The shoes were arranged in a line and he could bet the clothes were hung neatly in the closet.
The pad Stevenson had been writing on was on the drawer. He noticed the edge of the notepad was in line with the edge of the table. 'Hmmm...it seems this man has some sort of obsessive compulsive....' he would have to be careful to leave everything exactly as he found it.
He got his hands on the pad and opened it.
He scurinized the writing as he unfolded the letter from his pocket.
L L
R R
S S
He could swear the letters had the same slant and curve yet some letters gave him doubt...take 'm' for instance. In the letter: the words 'forgive me' when he compared it to the word 'groom' in the notepad...there was a slight difference in the looping.
Now that he studied the words it seemed the letter 'g' had a different pattern in the way the branch was curved...
"Argghh!!! What am I even saying..?" He rubbed his eyes. This thing was giving him a nasty headache.
There had to be an expert, someone who could analyze both writings perfectly.
He'll just have to tear a page from the notepad.
"Better not tear from here..." He mumbled to himself and flipped the pages looking for any incoherent scribble he could tear off and the European won't notice.
He turned to the last page, scanning the contents. His eyes were drawn to bottom of the page...
Ozioma Chineny Chisom Chinaza Ezinne