“Why did you kill him!” the interrogator shouted at Sumbo. At first, she had shouted in defiance and told them that her social media friends would mobilize and create all sorts of trouble for the police until she was released. And her people had done just that. The inspector had come in and harangued her when he started getting a deluge of phone calls and text messages from anonymous people demanding her release since there was no evidence linking her to Charles’ death beyond her being his scorned ex.
“How did all these people get my number? What did you do?” he had hollered, clearly disturbed. She had smiled and reminded him that they had seized her phone the moment they arrested her, so she couldn’t have been the one that shared his number. Plus she didn’t have his number anyway. But she guessed what had happened. Someone had found his number and shared on social media the way they always did for politicians they wanted harassed by the public when they were crusading against one of the nonsensical things the politicians did thinking no one would be able to reach them. After the phone harassment began, they had become even more forceful in their interrogation, trying to hoodwink and browbeat her into saying something that somehow implicate her in the murder and justify her arrest and incarceration. The night had been terrible, with four different officers coming to her every two hours to question her, depriving of sleep in the process. They were trying to break her down, but she vowed to be strong. Yet, her mind kept replaying that image, Charles’ severed head on his laps. She would prefer to be held here than go out there. Whoever killed Charles was on the prowl and she didn’t know why. She didn’t want to live with the kind of fear she had felt when the police had knocked her door the night before and she thought the killers had come for her. They might not have forgotten she had been billed to marry him and think she knew something, whatever it was that had caused them to kill Charles like that. There were too many shadows in Charles’ world, away from the eyes of his adoring public and there were a few of them she suspected could murder him like that to protect themselves.
“So you will not talk abi?” the voice was cold and she recognized it as the DPO who had led her arrest. She recalled his name.
“Detective Senayon, good morning to you, I see you instructed your boys to ensure that I didn’t get any sleep.”
Senayon looked at the lady. She attempted to smile at her own satire but the effect of the lack of sleep and interrogation were beginning to show on her.
“Like you instructed your minions on that your social media thing to ensure I didn’t get any sleep?” Senayon spat the words out, vexed.
“Oh, you didn’t?” Sumbo asked, genuinely surprised but coming across as sarcastic to Senayon.
“Well, unlike the accused murderer that you are, I have the liberty of turning my phone off so that their disturbances were cut off. And of course, they would not dare come disturb me physically away from that your social media.” Senayon knew he should not switch off his phone as a senior police officer, but those people had simply not let him sleep. Anyway, no one would know he had switched it off. They were still not resting; the moment he had turned it on this morning, the messages had started pouring in. He put the phone on silent. The bloody civilians would not intimidate an officer like him, he thought.
“You do know you are yet to let me speak with my lawyer, detective? And that is illegal,” she said.
“When you murder a man with the brutality you did simply because he refused to marry you, you are a monster! All civility and legality should go out of the window with the likes of you!” Senayon shouted, banging his fist on the table.
“Then charge me to court immediately if you are so bloody sure I am guilty!” Sumbo found the strength to shout back.
“Oh, I will, after you confess to your heinous crime,” Senayon retorted.
“Then you will be ready to wait until cocks grow teeth,” Sumbo responded.
Fuad couldn’t believe his luck. They had made small talk for some minutes, but it was obvious the lady had different ideas for the time they had to spend together. He decided not to waste any time.
“I wonder what this fit body of yours looks like without the clothes on,” he cooed as she sipped on the water like it was a glass of wine.
She raised her eyes to meet his and responded coolly “well, show me yours, and I’ll show you mine.”
He smiled coyly. “Let’s play a game. I’ll take off one item of clothing at a time and you have to take off one piece for each one I take off. Let’s see whose body gets revealed first.”
She threw her head back and laughed, a sultry laughter that oozed seduction. Fuad needed all of his willpower to restrain himself from jumping on her immediately. But he sensed that he would spoil the chances if he did; she was one of those types that liked to play games and all. Since he had suggested this game, he would play it.
“Okay, Mr. Fuad. I’ll play your game, but on one condition. When we’re done with your game, we’ll play my own game and you’ll have no choice but play. Otherwise, we won’t start your own game at all,” she said with a twinkle in her eyes.
There was no way in hell he was going to say no to that. “I’m game!” he responded enthusiastically, grinning when he realized he had made a pun.
“I hope you live alone and no crazy girlfriend will come in while we play,” she asked.
“Naa, I’m not married, dating or even flinging at the moment. And it is just me in this my palace, not a single other soul” he said, waving around dramatically as he said palace.
She smiled as she said “okay, shall we begin?”
Senayon was having a heated argument with the lawyer. First he hated lawyers generally. Then he hated young lawyers who thought they were activists and need to jump on any case the public thought the police was being unfair, their sole purpose being to shine. This one was a combination of all the things he hated in lawyers, young, obnoxious, activist and loud.
“You denied my client the right to reach her lawyer for a whole night! Seized her phones so she couldn’t be reached. You didn’t arrest her detective, you kidnapped her!” she shouted now, while Sumbo looked on amused.
“Your client is under arrest with respect to a very gruesome murder and you don’t expect us to treat such a person with kid gloves,” Senayon shot back.
“And what evidence links her to this crime, detective, beyond your conjecture? Do you think you can detain citizens for crimes without any physical or circumstantial evidence linking them to it? You detain citizens for crimes now on your own whim and caprices? She wasn’t physically there. Nothing was found at the crime scene linking her to it. Nothing has been found in her house so far linked to the crime. Yet you not only detain my client, you torture her!”
“The law is clear, and madam lawyer there is nothing you can do about it. A suspect in a murder case cannot be released on bail, it is a capital offence. So there is nothing you or I can do,” Senayon responded smugly.
“You then have to charge her to court or else you have to release her. You have no right to keep her indefinitely without leave from a magistrate detective. No sane magistrate will give you such a leave on such a flimsy reason for keeping her locked up as a suspect and we both know it. So don’t let’s go through the trouble of arguing this before a law court. My client is definitely not running anywhere, and will cooperate with you for any investigations you want to carry out. We are not asking for bail, we are asking for her release until you have concrete evidence for which to detain her and charge her to court. And we both know you are running out of time”
Senayon knew the lawyer was right and he hated it. He had hoped they would be able to break Sumbo down and get a confession out of her before daybreak and before any meddlesome lawyer got involved in the case. But she had refused to balk and now this annoying lawyer was in the mix. Plus newspapers were carrying the story already and referring to her detention as illegal detention. The text messages and phone calls had not stopped; in fact they had gone into overdrive. He would not be surprised if he soon got a call from his superiors over the furor and he would bear the brunt of whatever wrath it had raised with them. This social media thing had a way of getting information out that he would rather keep out of the public view. He still didn’t know how the images of the body had become available to the public so quickly the night before. And how his number had reached so many people so quickly. And how the newspapers and even radio had gotten the info so quickly. This was meant to be a straightforward murder case he became personally involved just for some excitement beyond the rote and routine work of being a DPO. He hadn’t bargained for this. The truth he was unwilling to admit to himself was that he had no leads, no real suspects, nothing but grasping for air.
“Well, madam lawyer, we will just have to wait and see what the magistrate says,” Senayon said with finality.
Fuad was down to his boxer shorts, and he could tell that she liked what she saw. “Looks better in person than in the pictures on Instagram,” she commented with a chuckle, looking at him hungrily as if she wanted to touch him like she had dreamt of doing through computer and phone screens in the past. She was down to her underwear too and he was ready to take the shorts off so she would have no choice but to take off either the bra or the panties. He dropped his shorts to the floor, standing stark naked before her, grinning. “Your turn,” he said.
Smiling, she slowly raised her hands from her side. He smiled. It was the bra that was going off. Then her hands went to her ears and she removed her small earrings and said with a foxy grin “game over, Mr. Fuad. You’re naked, and I’m not.”
“Earrings? That doesn’t count now, it’s cheating,” Fuad responded impetuously like a baby.
“Isn’t it something I have on? And is it a part of my body?” she asked teasingly.
“No jor!” he responded, almost stomping his feet in protest
She laughed at him and said “Calm down mister. There’s still one more game, and you just might get me naked.”
Fuad smiled and relaxed. She was just being naughty, he thought. “So pray, tell one about this game,” he said.
“Have you read Fifty Shades of Grey, Mr. Fuad?” she asked, a glint in her eyes.
“Yes I have,” Fuad responded. Images from the book flashed through his mind and he began to have ideas. This was going to be more fun than he thought.
“Have you tied someone or been tied up before?” she asked.
“No. My ex was such a prude she wouldn’t agree to be adventurous in bed,” Fuad responded. It was a lie, but it was lie he thought would increase the chances that she would give him adventure today.
“Well, most women are that way when with their own man. They don’t want him thinking them to be sluts, as many men would if they agreed to those things. But with another man…” she let the thought trail off with those words hanging in the air and was happy with the response she saw him give physically in his loins. Good, she thought.
“Here’s the game,” she continued. “I’ll tie you up for one hour and do anything I like with you. You cannot stop me until one hour is done. Then you tie me up and can go Christian Grey on me for one hour. No cameras though, there was some sextape gist onto you and I don’t want any of that. Are you game?”
Fuad wanted to protest the sextape rumor and then he thought better of it. What was the point of protesting that right now anyway? He said “you bet.”
She had guessed right, she thought to herself. He would not protest at being tied up first, because he wanted to be the one to tie her up last. She was sure his thinking was that she would be powerless to stop him after his one hour had elapsed anyway so better to go last. She smiled.
“Hope you won’t mind wrecking four of your neckties for our game?” she asked.
He didn’t need to be told. He raced to his wardrobe and returned with four fine silk ties. She pushed him onto the bed and spread his hands and legs out. Then using one tie per limb, she tied him to each of the ends of the bed, so that his whole body was exposed.
“Now we begin,” she said with a smile. What Fuad saw was a sexy naughty smile. Desire colors perception in such ways. She turned around and picked up her runner’s pouch which she had discarded during Fuad’s game. Slowly, she unzipped it and retrieved an already prepared syringe and needle. When she turned back to face Fuad and he saw what she had in her hands, fear and confusion registered on his face for the first time that morning.
“What is this? Are you a junkie or something? Look, I don’t do drugs so that’s waaaay off limits in this game.” He struggled to break free of his bonds but it seemed that the more he struggled, the tighter the necktie squeezed around his wrist and ankle.
“Struggling is hopeless, Mr. Fuad. You cannot break free. I tied you with a double constrictor knot. Not only is that a super strong knot, but it also has the characteristic of tightening when you struggle. So keep calm. This is not going to hurt and you won’t feel a thing,” she responded in an even voice.
“What! Who the hell are you? What are you trying to do to me?” Fuad shouted at the top of his voice, but the position he was tied in made shouting difficult and with effort.
“Ah, you have been a patient man all morning Mr. Fuad. I’m sure you can be a little more patient. Let me tell you one thing though. Your worst nightmare is about to begin”. This time when she smiled, it didn’t seem sexy to Fuad any longer.
With that, she darted to his side and before he could say a word, she administered the injection.