Time to Kill


5 28



Modupe saw them drive out of the office building. She checked her dashboard, the time was 6.34 p.m. and not yet totally dark for her to identify the occupants of the wine-colored Camry. She picked up her walkie talkie, “Eagle 1 to eagle 2, target is on the move with a female partner. Wine Camry with registration number Fima Romeo Sierra 115 Papa Alpha. Target headed south-east, bound towards your rendezvous point. Looks like they are headed towards Isaac John right now. Confirm you have picked up the package. Over,” the reply was almost instantaneous from Eagle 2, “target in view, wine Camry and I see the reg. number clear. Package picked up and in the bag. Over and out.”

There was a click and the cackle of airwaves flooded her car. She gunned the engine and headed for Adekunle Fajuyi way. If she drove fast, she reckoned she should be linking MBA Way before the Camry hit the same road through Nitel Bus Stop. She monitored the radio traffic on the dedicated band and her hunch as to the route of their quarry checked out. They were heading for MBA Way alright. However, she would be in trouble if they headed towards Allen Avenue and not toward the Maryland end. If they did that, she might get stuck in traffic before she could make the turn and head back in their direction.

She was going to keep her fingers crossed and wish for luck. Nonetheless, there was no fear of losing the target. If Eagle 2 lost the car, there were four more cars on strategic exit and entry routes from the G.R.A Ikeja, Allen and Ikorodu road. They were sure to pick up the car.

She hit MBA way without hassles and parked at the bus stop. As she attempted to pick the radio and call for update, it crackled to life, “Eagle 2 to 1, Camry headed for Opebi link.”

Shit! What she feared. She dropped the walkie talkie, released the parking brakes and hit the road again. She was lucky the road was free, allowing her to make the turn without much delay. She gunned the car as much as her trained law enforcement mind would allow. Soon, she saw the tail lights of the Camry as it made the turn into Opebi link road. The traffic lights at Nitel must have held them up, allowing her to catch up before they went out of view.

“Eagle 2 I see the target. I am escorting you for extra cover. Eagle 3 and 4 proceed to point X. Eagle 5 and 6 proceed to point Y. Let’s keep this baby in our sight and cover all bases. Do you copy?” She waited for the responses to trickle in from the various surveillance vehicles and then clicked off.

It looked like tonight was going to be the night. She had been put in charge of supervising this operation. It was a responsibility Sgt. Tunji Adimu had given to her. She was sure he had given her the responsibility to keep her away from danger. It was not professional, but she understood the rational. After what had happened between them, their relationship was now more than professional, it was only natural for him to be protective. It was a man thing, to protect their seemingly weaker women. Due to her ambition for an opportunity like this, she had not complained. But, in silent protest and in her own way of showing her own affection, she had returned Tunji’s favor in kind. She had taken the news of spearheading the operation onboard, a small compromise to make for winning their argument on operational action plan. She was running the show, with authority to deploy her troops. Thus, she put Tunji in Eagle 6, which she had sent to rendezvous at the prime suspect’s house in Magodo. She screwed her face in concentration as she kept a safe distance between her car, Camry and the nondescript police surveillance vehicle tailing it. She knew she had sent Eagle 6 to point Y in order to get it, get Tunji, out of the way. She knew her own decision was also not entirely professional. But, someone had to be there and someone had to be at the known home address of the girl.

She noted that the car was now attempting to link Mobolaji Johnson through Ikosi road and all of a sudden her decision to send Eagle 6 to point Y seemed like it was going to be an ‘inspired decision’. The Night Time Killer seemed to be heading for his own home. It made no sense to her. But, thinking more about it, it looked to her like his judgment too was beclouded by other emotions other than the cold, brutal ones he was noted for. Taking the girl to his own house went against all MOs of the serial killer they had spent weeks profiling. Unless… she screwed her face some more, glaring at the tail lights of the two vehicles ahead. Unless, those other murders except the seventh one had all happened in his apartment. Thinking harder, she remembered that the first victim had been found around the general vicinity of the suspect’s known home address. It was why his name had come up in their investigation notes. They had thrown the net wide and far for that first one. In fact, they had almost missed him entirely.

Her mind was working like a crazed clock as she tried to profile other angles they had not looked at before in their investigation of the Night Time Killer. None of the victims had been found anywhere near Magodo – the closest one was the first victim, now that she thought about it. Although, it was clear from the brutality of the murders that the killer had enough time and space to carry out his deed, there had never been any indication it had been around the area. As a matter of fact, they had concentrated some of their efforts at tracking commercial buildings where shops had been rented, without any apparent commercial activity going on in them. That had yielded a few fruits, as they busted a few scamming groups. But, it had been a dead end.

So, maybe he had done it all in his apartment after all. She screwed her eyes to thin slits as she tried to juggle the known facts in her mind. They were now on CMD road. Her decision to send Tunji to Magodo, out of harm’s way, didn’t seem to have had the result she hoped for. Now, he was going to be in the center of it all. Eagle 5 would remain at Point X, in case anything happened over there. The rest of the surveillance vehicles would converge in and around Point Y.

The trap was having shape, but how the night would end was unknown.

Funbi sat quietly as she drove through the streets, under directions. She had lost her sense of geography from the last time she had taken him home, but it was not difficult to pick up snatches of memory from her last time there. The streets and houses were now familiar to her. She noted he was also quiet, but it was not new. He had always been a quiet chap.

Quiet but very nice.

She had come to the undeniable conclusion that she loved him. What was difficult was judging his own emotions towards her. She was also convinced that, unlike the other men she had ever been with, he was more than capable of giving her the kind of sexual satisfaction her high libido demanded.

Her first sight of his manhood, the outline of it actually, had given her a mighty fright. She had not expected it. She had also been scared of what his impression of her would have been if he had found out she was a closet freak in bed with an insatiable sexual need. Something that had been at the center of all her issues in previous relationships. The guys just couldn’t get it up and keep it up. They couldn’t give it like she wanted it. But, when she saw how huge he was, she had baulked. Her plans of engagement which she laid out when she invited him for the evening at her apartment, which later turned to his apartment, terribly unhinged.

So, she ran. She ran far before she would be gored to her heart by that lengthy monstrous stick hanging ominously loose in his pants. Of course, she had been frightened by his unorthodox behavior too. He seemed to have changed or rather metamorphosed. Later on, she reasoned it was probably because she had rushed him.

Now, she was getting another shot. This time, it will be very different.

“Package in storage, Eagle 1.”

Modupe slowed down, the target was home. She checked her dashboard again for the time. 7.58 p.m. and the target was in sight, safely at home with a female. “All units, package in storage. Eagle 1, 2, 5 and 6 standing over watch. Eagle 3 and 4 stand firm at point X. Await further instructions. All other units, keep eyes, ears and noses open guys.”

She clicked off the radio and killed the engine and listened to the noise of the night. She was in relative darkness as the street had no power. She spotted the police car tagged Eagle 2 further ahead, close to the gate leading into the target’s building. She could also make out the outline of Tunji behind the wheels of the other vehicle on the street. The last police vehicle was on the junction leading into the street – a buffer and a contingency.

After a few minutes, the lights came on in one of the apartments where there was previously no light. That meant the target and his female companion were in the apartment. She noted with satisfaction that the apartment was on the ground floor, which made operational and tactical actions easier. She spoke into the radio, “looks like we have got our package in storage being unwrapped. Give it 10mins, I and Sgt. Tunji and Detective Abdul will move in for visual contact. No engagement of target unless I order it. Copy.”

The response was immediate from her team mates.

They waited.

I led her to a seat, holding her hand to make sure she did not stumble in the near darkness of the unlit sitting room. After making sure she was seated, I went and switched on the generator. But, I didn’t want to go back in immediately. I stood there for a few minutes, looking up at the starless skies and contemplating what I was going to do. She was in my sitting room, waiting for me to come back in. Of course, I was not going to tell her what she hoped to hear. That story was not for her ears or anyone’s for that matter. But, what could I tell her to get her off my back?

You have to live what you don’t know. But, in her case she wanted to know. She did not want to stay on the outside. I felt like staying outside all night just looking at the sky. Why did I even bring her here?

Go back inside, boyo. You know why we brought her and she is waiting. She is ready. Just like you are ready.

There was little else to do. I stepped into the sitting room, and indeed she was waiting. We were in each other’s arms before I took three steps into the room, clutching and groping. Two hungry lions ready to devour and sate their hunger.

The outline of the two figures was visible to the team. Modupe saw the figures clinch together. To her trained mind, it was senseless to be this much in the ‘open’ if the objective was to commit a crime. However, she also knew that most best kept secrets are in the open, where people pay little or no attention to them. She picked up the radio and gave the order for Tunji and Abdul to move in on the location. She also got out of her car, after checking carefully that her torch was working and the safety was on on her Heckler & Koch 9mm caliber pistol.

It was going to be tricky. What if this guy was not the suspect? She was jolted by the thought. At no point in this investigation had it crossed anybody’s mind that it could be anyone else but the man in the apartment. She surprised herself that she now gave the thought any form of entertainment, now that they were at the business end of things. She struck the thought out of her mind, worst case scenario the guy would be released and they will have to keep searching. With that in mind, she crouched and stepped behind her colleagues as they approached the house.

Boyo, remember this lesson for today and henceforth:
The penis is the only thing that has the greatest control in a relationship.

I was getting my instructions once again. Hard as I tried to shut out the voice in my head, he wouldn’t go away. We clung to each other, holding on as if we were clinging to each other for life support. My breathing was shallow as I tried to have control over myself and the situation. Her hands felt around for my bulging penis as I pushed her gently towards the sofa. I have to think fast, there has to be a way out of this situation. Either that or she was going to die.

But, what can you do?

I chewed on the thought. What could I do? Nothing. I was as helpless as Funbi in the matter. We were more or less pawns in this bizarre act. If I had control, the other seven girls wouldn’t have died. It was coming and the lure of the moment was a rush that made his coming faster.

We have to finish this business once and for all, boyo
She does not escape and you don’t mess this up.

Funbi’s death sentence had been passed, silently and with little fight the devil took over.

They sneaked on the house, keeping to the shadows and trying not to draw too much attention. People were still about. She checked her wristwatch, it was a slightly past eight. They got to the building without drawing attention. A lot of people were off the streets anyway, must be a Champions League match night. She signaled for Abdul to take point, noting with a sadness Tunji’s reproachful stare at her choice of candidate for the job. She ignored it and motioned for him to cover Abdul. They listened at the door and could hear muffled sounds of struggling. It didn’t sound like something you would hear if someone was in danger of death or bodily harm. But, who knew for sure? They had to know for sure. She motioned again to her colleagues, pointing two fingers at her eyes and pointing at the general direction of windows behind Tunji, he nodded and peered in.

He raised two fingers for Modupe and Abdul to see, indicating that there were two people he could see inside. Then, he shook his head to indicate all was normal inside.

Modupe breathed deeply, they needed to get this right and also to move quickly before someone comes or mistakes them for thieves. So far, they had not been accosted or intercepted by anyone.

She was just about to call the team to stand down when the sound of the noise from inside changed.
8.15 p.m.


I felt for her bra strap, unhooking it and squeezing one of the fleshy mounds that jumped out. I could hear her shallow breaths and knew she was way ready than I thought she would be, considering everything else. I squeezed again, relishing the moan that was her reply. The moan was pleasurable and I kept on squeezing.

Yes, boyo! That’s it!
Tonight is the night we get retribution for being denied the first time.

I shifted slightly and allowed her rest supine on the sofa. Slowly, I rubbed my hands across her belly, tickling the belly button. She giggled and writhed as I continued to explore her body with my palm. I could have stopped there, but my palm continued a downward journey of their own, sliding into her long, black trouser pants and rubbing against the silky material of her pants. I could sense her heightened sense of arousal. She was like a caged lioness, a bottled energy looking for a source of escape. I offered her one, taking her hand and touching it to my crotch. It was all the help she needed, as she expertly unbuckled my belt and removed my jeans in one swift, smooth movement.

She was hungry and was hunting for my mouth. I dodged her and pinned my mouth against her nipple instead. It was hard as a rock. I bit it, extracting a sharp intake of breath from her.

This is better than the rest!
It was worth the wait, boyo?

Her purring was a constant mix to the general atmosphere, the fan not quenching the sweat that was issuing out of our collective bodies.

“Come get me, tiger. Fuck, come here already!!!” she was thrashing around and scrabbling with one hand across my back, while rubbing my now exposed penis with the other. “You are so huge… I want you to drill me, baby.”

This is unusual.

What do you care, boyo? You heard her…
Get her, now!!!

I tore her trouser pant, and pulled off her silk pants in one motion. I heard the tearing sound, but it was a lost and distant sound in the space where I now existed. Without any further preamble, I entered her already moist and pulsing vagina. It was a rough entry, but she accommodated me nicely. I synchronized my thrusts to undulate at rhythmic sequence with hers. She was doing me and I was in turn doing her.

Cut out the romantic shit.
This is no child’s play!!!
This is no child’s play, boyo.
Give me some sound bites!!!

On cue, I landed the first of several slaps on her face. I no longer cared for the momentary shock registered on her face, then as if she determined that it was all part of a role play, her face broke into a smile and she ground harder against me, slapping my buttocks for equal measure.

This baby can play.
Now, it is time…
Time to Kill.

The blows rained down in quick session. She didn’t fight against them, rather she succumbed to the blows only defending her face with her raised elbows. I stopped and reached for one of her exposed breasts and began to squeeze. The moan coming from beneath me came out ragged and different somehow, but I didn’t care. I was driven to squeeze even harder. The sharp cry of pain, heightening the sense of pleasure that surged through me. I continued to squeeze and she continued to moan in contained pain.
This one is strong.
We will squeeze her for all the juice she has got!
But, we have to keep her quiet.

My hands reached for the throw pillow on the chair. The action, surreal and totally out of my subconscious control. All my brain processed was the programmed instruction of the need to keep her quiet and pliant.

Vincent knew he had stumbled onto something phenomenal when he hacked his computer files weeks back. He had read with mouth agape, and his stomach turning as the gory details of the murders were related in distinct vividness.
He was sure it was him. But, he felt he had stumbled into the mind of a very troubled person. He could feel in the scripts a certain detachment from the events that were being related. And he was also convinced that he was not totally at fault for what was happening. He felt a need to help him. He had to help him. He was about the only person that had really taken an interest in befriending him, even in spite of all his dysfunctional social behaviours.

He had bugged his drive and had kept tabs on the progress of the night time killer.

When he read about the plan for Funbi Sokumade, he knew finally he had to take action. But, he was not going to rat him out. No, he couldn’t do that to him. So, he had done what he thought was right – warned him. Or, tried to warn him. And was still planning to confide his find in his friend, when the police came around to quiz him. It was at that point that he made his decision. He reckoned he was beyond saving from the clutches of the police now, unless someone intervened on his behalf.

So, that was why he had tailed the Toyota Camry. It was no surprise to him that there were other vehicles also tailing the car. He had counted three. And he was sure they were police. Any doubt he had was removed when he saw them approach his apartment.

He knew what he was getting into. But, he was a good guy. He was better than most out there who do worse things to the national economy, thereby killing more people than the Night Time Killer. And this guy, in his own opinion, needed expert medical care rather than to be locked up to rot in prison.

The overriding thought for his was the friendship they had struck, and the affinity they now share, being both socially dysfunctional entities. They were deviants in the eyes of the society, and it was now time for him to put one back in the eye of that same society. They had always laughed at him since he was a kid. All the girls and guys in the office also laughed behind, and even before him. It was not his fault, none of them ever asked him why he couldn’t control his pipes. He had a rare medical condition, lactase deficiency. He had read that up somewhere along the line, but it was a reflection of the general nature of the human race not to care about the affliction of their fellow man.

No one cared what ails you or how you manage your ailment. In fact, once you have been labelled no one gives you hope of redemption. He however, did not belong in that school. Even if that man had killed all those girls, he had never been like all the sane humans he had encountered in his life time.

The man they call the Night Time Killer was different. He had taken him as a human being, had treated him as a friend, even if he had never invited him to his house. So, the least he could do was help him. As he watched the three men at the door gesture to one another, he knew time was running out for the Night Time Killer.

Unless, he did something to buy him some more time. He picked up his phone and punched the number.

8.23 p.m.

The shrill sound of the phone on the center table reeled my conscious mind back to the present.

I sprang away from the body beneath me. I grabbed the phone, it almost slipped out of my grip, then pressed the answering button.

“Hey Buddy!”

Crap, Vincent! I slapped my forehead in frustration. What a way to go. I looked over at Funbi’s prone body on the sofa. I began to shake, almost dropping the phone again. This is not happening. That is Funbi on my sofa, lying there lifeless.

“They are coming buddy, the police are at your doorstep.”

His voice sounded like it was outside my doorstep. All of a sudden, my senses heightened at the potential of danger. I was acutely aware of the situation I was in. And already, things were beginning to be set in motion in my head that were out of my hands.

Once again, I touched her. She was still warm. I felt for her pulse and she still had it. I made to dress her up, but stopped shot as the voice pierced through my consciousness.

We have to get out of here, you fool!

I looked around, my loafers where at the door and the knapsack with my computer was right beside it. Without further hesitation, I pulled on my boxers, noting in a submerged part of my consciousness the still erect stiffness, I hurriedly pulled on my shirt and loafers. Then, I grabbed my bag and headed for the kitchen as the first knock on the door sounded.

In the kitchen, I jumped on the freezer and pulled open the door of one of the kitchen cabinets. I pushed aside an assortment of bric-a-brac and pulled aside a disguised inner boarding at the back of the cabinet, revealing the first glint of night breeze and starless sky outside. I pulled myself into the cabinet as the hammering on the front door increased and disappeared into the cabinet, pulling the door closed behind me.

Outside, I quickly pushed back the wall in place. No one looking at it can guess anything was off. And it was at a safe enough height children couldn’t reach and tamper with it. Without much ado, I scaled the fence and dropped into the next compound. They had a dog and I was staring right into its dark, fiercesome eyes.

We froze looking at each other for several seconds. All I need now is for the dog to start barking.

It won’t bark. It recognizes our superiority.

The German shepherd blinked first, turned its back and wiggled away from me. I stood up and followed it, making my way to the other end of the compound where I scaled the fence into the third compound and relative safety.

Modupe tumbled after Tunji into the room as he finally broke it down. Immediately, they saw the prone body on the sofa and approached cautiously, guns drawn. Modupe spoke into her walkie talkie while they cleared the sitting room.

“All units, all units. We have a Vic but no Perp. Repeat, we have a Vic but no Perp. All units stand at alert and man exit and escape routes. He must not slip through our fingers. We are checking the rest of the house. Over and out.”

She didn’t wait for a reply before motioning to Abdul to check the rooms while Tunji did the kitchen. She would take the toilet and the compound. She did the toilet quickly and raced outside.

However, there was nothing to be found there. She went back inside, where she found Tunji and Abdul standing by the kitchen door. She went to them, joining them at the door to gaze at the hole in the kitchen cabinet.

8.26 p.m.

I could smell the freshness of the air.

It was good to be outside. I looked up and down the street, no one had seen me jump the walls and now, in the third street from my apartment, I felt as safe as I could be.

I walked down the street, my knapsack held against my side. I nodded at a few people who knew and greeted me. They held no immediate danger to me, so I had no trouble returning the greetings. Finally, I got to the T-junction at the end of the street and as I made to cross the street a car swerved and stopped in front of me.

“Get in, buddy.”

I stopped short, halting my initial intention to run. Heck, Vincent! I dropped into the seat beside him, he was grinning at me like a lap dog that had been offered a flesh-speckled bone.

“We suckered them, didn’t we?”

I looked across at him as he drove away at a sedate speed, grinned back at him and replied, “Yes, we did buddy!” He had saved me from a lifetime in jail that much I knew. I also knew I was now no longer who I thought I was. If, I would readily kill someone as sweet and close as Funbi Sokumade, then I was no longer that guy.

I was now one and the same with the devil which resided in me.

“Yes, Vince. We did. We suckered ‘em good.”

No, we did boyo. And you know this sucker has to be taken out, don’t you?

I slapped my knees, my brain already acknowledging the new instruction and mapping out how to tie this loose end as soon as the coast was clearer.


It’s a wrap guys!!!!! Kindly let us know what you think. Thank you very much for reading. Don’t forget to share, share and share.
Thank you very much Shai, for giving me the honor to post this wonderful piece of writing.

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About the author / 

Patrick Jennifer

My name is Patrick Jennifer............ Talkative extraordinaire (aspiring OAP), Professional 'carer', Wanna-be writer, and I am sweetness personified.

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  1. aGuyUused2luv October 10, 2014 at 12:36 pm -  Reply

    Its nt a small tin o…..sherlock holmes kinda chumtin…..nyc.

  2. Korlahjor October 9, 2014 at 1:42 pm -  Reply

    Nooooooooooo….it can’t end like dis nw…bt still an interesting story

  3. shaiontheprowl October 9, 2014 at 1:40 pm -  Reply

    Lol. U r my number one fan from here. We were discussing ur reaction and somehow, this here is an anti-climax to what I and the chicken who blogs here tot it wld be.

    I really appreciate u for following till the end.

    For more, u can check my blog site for more and more and more and more….sorry chicken….I am trying to poach him from u.

  4. DR Nwax October 9, 2014 at 9:58 am -  Reply

    This will make a good movie! It finally ends! Kudos Shaiontheprowl! Welldone(in MI’s voice)

    • shaiontheprowl June 9, 2015 at 12:32 pm -  Reply

      Thank you very much Sah! Sorry I am replying months, and months and months after you posted this comment. But, I have been on some kind of hiatus.
      I appreciate you and I do hope you followed me to my blog?
      If not, I won’t mind having you come visit.
      Just drop you twitter handle here and I will hook up.
      Cheers and thanks for reading through to the very end!
      I appreciate you, most especially for finding the courage to leave comments. They were all gems.

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