Working Cases - Episode 8

 

THREE DAYS LATER…
He leaped clear of the hedge and kept running, frantically struggling to lose me in the brush. I kept up the pursuit, pure rage fueling me, closing the gap between us.
We ventured deeper into the woods, entering the trees now. The fallen logs, protruding branches and scraping undergrowth were slowing him down. I barely felt them . There was only one thing on my mind. I was going to crack the bastard’s skull open. 
He tripped, and I lunged at him, barreling him into the wet earth. We tussled for a while but I won, connecting a fist with his lower jaw. I rose to my feet and leveled my gun at him. “I have you, now.”
He laughed a little, choking on his spittle. “What are you going to do?” He rolled onto his back, “Kill me?”
“For what you’ve done, I should.” I spat.
“And what exactly did I do?” he retorted. “Your friend—all your friends were dead the moment they allied themselves with you. If anything, you killed them.”
He had the nerve! I squeezed the gun tightly. “Oh, but they’re alive,” I shook my head, “Every one of them except the one you killed. You murdered her in cold blood, you bastard!”
Carpenter smiled

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. “I had to. My sister was right outside with you. I had to prove myself loyal to her and the family.” 
I stepped back. “Madame Olivia Adegboyega is your sister?”
“She used to be Olivia Thomas. After she married Peter, she took his name and his power. Helping your father anonymously was one thing. Helping you was far too dangerous. And then you brought her to my house.”
“So, everything you told me three days ago, about the stranger, all of that is true?”
“Mostly,” He smiled, open-toothed, “You’ll have to figure out which is which on your own. I'm done helping you.”
“Helping me?” I spat. I hated him. And I hated his sister. And I wanted him to feel all the pain I was feeling. “Helping me, you say? You killed her! How the hell is that helping me?”
Carpenter’s voice grew cold. “I can see you felt for her. I'm sorry, if that’s any consolation. I'm not sorry she’s dead. All of you are dead eventually. I'm sorry I was the one who took her from you.”
My hand had grown tired from holding up the gun. I was too tired. Rage and hatred had fueled me for three days, but even the strongest of feelings could not abate the tiredness that was creeping in my bones and the ache in my muscles. I brought the gun up one more time. “I want to kill you, Carpenter.”
“And you should. You deserve to. Look at yourself! You haven’t even mourned. Running around for three days like a man possessed.”
“But, I can’t. Because if I do, then you're right,” I holstered the gun and brought out a pair of handcuffs, “We are all already dead.”
He nodded to the cuffs in my hands, “And how’s that working out for you? All the people you’ve arrested,” He scorned, “He’s gotten them all out. I didn’t even know He could. He’s powerful, you know. Madame Olivia had barely reached the station before she was released. And what happened to all your evidence, all your witnesses? They’re all either missing, or have committed suicide. He did that. He’s screwed you over every single time. And you don’t even know who he is.”
I cuffed him and dragged him to the station. I didn’t say anything else, but I knew he was right. I had gone into a rage after that evening. I and my friends had pulled every piece of incriminating evidence we had on anyone even remotely connected to the criminal organization. We had locked them all up. The Comptons, the Nwachukwus, the Adegboyegas and Madame Olivia. But he had freed them all. The man in the shadows had pulled strings and all the evidence had vanished. Witnesses had hanged themselves or simply disappeared without a trace. Every person I had brought to justice had been released the same day. 
After that evening three days ago, when I raced the setting sun to Natalie’s side as she lay bleeding at Carpenter’s feet. He had backed away and ran, leaving Gabe and Amelia locked in a room in his house. I wept and told her I loved her, but I doubt she had heard anything. She was already dead and I big brown eyes were lifeless, shallow, with nothing in them. And above her left temple, was a small neat bullet hole.