A Chance For Love episode 8
A Chance For Loveđ
�Episode eight
đSleuthing
âThe sooner we find out whoever tried to kill her, the better.â
***
Our driver pulled up in the parking lot, where barely a dozen cars had taken their parking sâą0ts. Once Cynthia and I stepped out of the car, he swung back in reverse and zoomed out of sight. While Cynthia headed for class, I lingered in the lot, distracting myself with a glossy-black power bike I had never seen before. I wanted her ahead of me, breathing in fresh air that didnât have my breath contaminating it. She mounted the stairs, out of my line of sight. I followed at a snailâs pace.
Two pairs of eyes looked up at me as I stood in the doorway of my classroom. Confidence and Adamu â the last people I wanted to see at the moment. Sat together, Confidence scribbled in her note while Adamu punched the keys on his calculator. They seemed to be solving a math problem. But with a sât like her and a je*rk like him, nothing good could come out. I turned to leave when I heard Adamu snort.
âHey, come put us throughâŚâ I walked away, letting Confidenceâs voice trail off. I wouldnât want to start my day in their company. Not unless I planned to ruin it before it even began.
The corridor seemed good enough for some quality me-time. Perching my feet beside the classroomâs exterior wall, I rested my hands on the parapet, breathing in the cool morning breeze. Cars and students streaked in through the gate. Once in ten minutes, the shuffling of feet would steal away my attention. Iâd turn around, hoping to find Amarachi or Flora, but would find some random jerk I didnât want to waste my voice on in the name of âgood morning.â So Iâd just nod at them and look away.
My thoughts settled on Doreen and her Bloody Miri tale. Everything about it just seemed surreal. Impossible. I shook my head. No way in hell would I believe this. For twenty-one wh0le years, this game had been going on. What did Miriamâs so-called ghost see in 2017 that forced her out of hiding, answering the call sheâd ignored all these years?
What if Doreen had fabricated that story in an attempt to cover up for her attacker because exposing her came with a price? Either that, or sheâd tried to kill herself. Or maybe that had been one episode of a madness to come, and many would come where that came from. But Bloody Miri? Bloody hell.
Doreen didnât strike me as a crazy one though. Without a second thought, I ruled out the third possibility, leaving me with just two. I thought back to the second. Suicide.
She didnât strike me as one who would try to kill herself. Like every other kid in our school, she came from an affluent family, so she had close to everything she could ever need.
Why then would she try to kill herself? Suicide attempts mostly stemmed from depression and a very chronic loathing of oneâs self. For an adult, the triggers include unemployment, divorce, inability to find a mate, and a number of other factors. But for a teenage girl, I could only think of a few.
Perhaps sheâd been bullied and decided to end it all? Although bullying ended a few years back, thanks to Sir Amadiâs drastic measures, it wouldnât be wise to rule out the possibility just yet.
I moved on to the next possible trigger. Perhaps she did not receive much attention from her family and thought it best to escape to a better place?
A more troubling question took dwelling in my mind. What if she had a boyfriend and he had expressed an unchanging desire to leave her, perhaps for another? In that case, wouldnât she take out her aggression on the boy himself, or perhaps on the other girl? What if it happened the other way around, with Doreen as the other girl, and the ex-girlfriend of the boy in question had taken out her aggression on her?
Either way, we had a murderer amongst us, or at least one capable of it, and until we unmasked her, we stood the risk of being attacked. Each and every one of us.
âDo you believe the Bloody Mary poo?â Raheem asked from behind me. I jumped at the sound of his voice and hit against the hĂŚrdness of his chest.
âIâm sorry.â I bit my l-ips, hating that Iâd just apologized to him. Even more, I hated that Iâd put myself in a position where I had to apologize to him.
âYou wonât tell me this is what I get from sneaking up on you like that?â he asked, leaning against the parapet with his back and elbows.
I shuddered at our close proximity and took one thoughtless step to the left, only to crash into the wall whose presence I had forgotten.
I would shuffle to the other side of the parapet, but it would only make obvious my need to get away from Raheem. He chuckled. A light, musical sound I never thought Iâd hear firsthand.
Our meeting in the sickbay seemed to have changed him somehow. The Raheem I knew would never try to engage me in a conversation. Somehow, he had cast his old self in the shadows. For a reason I dared not identify, this brought a smile to my l-ips.
âMany students are scared of the restroom now,â he said. âItâs crazy how they all believe the place is actually haunted.â
âIndeed.â
âDo you believe this Bloody Mary poo?â he asked, lifting himself to sit on the parapet. My breath caught in my throat as an image of him tumbling over and falling many feet below flitted across my mind. Curse my fear of height. I could never sit on the parapet. And anyone who knew me knew better than to perform this stunt in front of me.
Ordering my mind away from Raheemâs fear-triggering seat, I returned his question. âDo you?â
âI thought when I added poo to Bloody Mary, my stand was already clear.â Silence crept in between us, punctuating his not-so-friendly response.
I could see the old Raheem crawl into the picture. In no time, he would take dominance. It seemed I wasnât the only one living with double personalities. Raheem shared this similarity.
âDoreen herself seemed pretty convinced that sheâd been attacked by Bloody Miri,â I said.
âMary,â Raheem corrected, disgusted by my apparent inability to correctly pronounce âMaryâ. How pathetic could his arrogance get?
âThe problem with people is they believe they know it all when in reality they know nothing.â I loved these words, not only because of the meaning they held, but because they had come out of dadâs mouth, woven in the richness of his deep voice. Now, though, watching these same words apply to Raheem made my appreciation soar even higher.
âItâs Miri,â I said. âShort for Miriam.â
The look of confusion on his face told me I had to explain. âTwenty-one years ago, we lost a student.â
Raheem nodded. âThe nurseâs sister.â
My l-ips parted to ask how he knew of Miriamâs relationshÂĄp with Stella. But the question never made it past my l-ips. I only managed to breathe out an âOh.â
âI read wide,â he said, answering my unasked question. âSo letâs seeâŚA certain Miriam dies, and students come up with a game taken after the popular Bloody Mary and name it Bloody Miri? How clichĂŠ.â
The bell for first period rang, freeing me from his company. I turned to leave, but his next words gripped me, making me stop dead in my tracks.
âWe will be meeting with Doreen during break. The sooner we find out whoever tried to kill her, the better.â
âHuh?â I asked. He had involved me in his plans without giving me an opportunity to accede or do otherwise? What gave him the impression I wanted to sleuth around with him in the first place?
âI donât see myself doing this with anyone but you,â he said.
Anyone but you. Those words sank deep in my heart. I didnât want to, but I found myself locking them away in a place safe enough for retrieval sometime in the future.
âTake Cynthia,â I offered. âSheâll be thrilled toââ
âDonât even mention her,â he said. âIt disgusts me how she thinks she can win me over. And sadly, many other girls think like that. Is that how little they think of me? A dog that can be bought with an emaciated bone?â
Rue-cheerless and a mix of disgust stole him over. For the next few moments, he stayed quiet, clenching and unclenching his sculptured jaw. Maybe I could lighten up the mood?
âWell, thereâs Mary,â I said.
âOf course,â he said. âThereâs good olâ Mary. But was it Mary and I who stayed by Doreenâs side while we waited for the nurse to show up?â
Once again, silence ensued, splitting my eardrums with its deafening shriek.
Raheem broke the silence. âLook, I donât know about you, but Iâm keeping this in the dark from anyone else. At least till we see ourselves making progress. So, are we meeting during break? The sooner this takes off, the better.â
âIâllâŚuhâŚthink about it,â I said.
Raheem clicked his tongue. âThis isnât a date, Toria.â
Toria? As much as I loved the sound of my new nickname, I didnât want to get used to it.
âDonât call me that,â I said.
In an attempt to elicit a similar response from him, I designed the prefect nick for him. âRah.â
Raheem grimaced. âDonât.â
Mission accomplished. âThat settles it then.â
âOf course, Miss Brown.â With his words came a short-lived fluttery s-nsation in my stomach. No one had ever called me Miss Brown.
The smile on his face told me he knew of my emotional turmoil, and that heâd seen it coming. âShall we seal the deal?â
Outstretching his right hand for a shake, two things sped into my focus. His well-trimmed nails. And the second, a memory of his hands ducking into his pockets when Cynthia had invited him for a handshake. It wouldnât hurt to give him a taste of his own medicine, would it?
I looked away from his outstretched hand and folded my hands. Fist clenched, he withdrew his hand. âSome other time then, Miss Brown.â
Smirking, he headed for the classroom. Four girls waved at him. Standing outside the class, theyâd been holding a meeting about God-knows-what. Looking straight ahead as though they didnât exist, Raheem swaggered off into the class.
The girls turned to glare at me, apparently wondering what Iâd done to make Raheem talk to me while he didnât even know they existed. If they pushed aside their egos and approached me for help, I would give them the simple tip: help him revive an unconscious girl and heâll love you forever.
With Raheemâs departure came a sudden realization. His presence had triggered no symptoms of my fragrance sensitivity. This only meant he had used a different cologne; one I actually found pleasing to my sense of smell. Had he realized my reaction to the other one? Had he come close to me only to test my reaction to his new spray?
Morning classes seemed to last for eons, building my anticipation for what recess would hold. Although, like Raheem said, this was not a date, I still couldnât get past the fact that I would spend my recess with him, Raheem of all people, when I should be with my friends. What would Amarachi and Flora think of this?
sâą0tting Raheemâs figure just before he stepped into Doreenâs classroom, I trailed behind him. More than half of the class had gone for lunch, but the person we needed to see remained.
A girl sat beside her, engaging her in a conversation. Wrapping it up, the girl rose to her feet and sauntered out of the classroom, stopping only for a minute to trade hellos with Raheem and I.
Doreen stared out of the window, her eyes holding the same distant look she wore yesterday. She no doubt reminisced over her encounter with whoever had tried to kill her.
âLet me do most of the talking,â Raheem said.
I let him walk one step ahead of me. Moments passed, and Doreen didnât acknowledge our presence. Her eyes misted over and she swiped at them with her fingers.
She gasped at the sight of us, as though sheâd seen the so-called ghost a second time. I held my breath, praying she didnât pass out and make this even h-rder.
Regaining composure, she greeted, âHello.â
âHello,â Raheem said back.
âHow are you doing today?â I asked.
Again, Doreen stared out through the window. âIâm alright.â While her l-ips said one thing, her eyes said another.
I played along. âThatâs a blessing.â
âYou didnât just come here to ask after my health, did you?â Doreen asked without turning to look at us.
âWeâre here to ask a few questions,â Raheem said. âTell us about the game. Bloody Mary.â
âMary?â Doreen turned to look at him, her eyes holding a mix of horror and disappointment. âNo. Itâs Miri.â
I doubted Raheem had forgotten I corrected him barely four hours ago. Obviously heâd made the same mistake on purpose to gain Doreenâs attention. And so far, it worked. His face contorted with confusion. If I didnât know better Iâd fall for it.
âMiri?â he asked.
âYou donât know?â Doreenâs gaze darted between Raheem and I. When none of us spoke, she explained, âIn memory of Miriam Adewale, a student who passed away, and then students came up with a game called Bloody Miri.â
âHowâs it played?â Raheem asked. âLike Bloody Mary?â
Doreen nodded. âStanding in front of a mirror, you are to chant âBloody Miriâ for as long as is needed.â
âAnd then?â Raheem asked.
âAnd then the attack,â Doreen said.
âHow exactly did she attack you?â I asked.
âShe just appeared behind me. She was dressed in our uniform, which is no surprise, because that was the cloth she died in. Her faceâŚit hid behind a curtain of hair. Before I could react to her presence, she dashed to my side and covered my head with a dusty black bag. And then she forced my head into the water-filled sink.â
âThe sink was already filled with water?â Raheem asked.
âYes,â Doreen said. âOne variant of Bloody Mary holds that the sound of water dripping from a tap was the last sound Mary heard. And so we incorporated it into our own game. One of the sinks was already half-filled with water when I arrived there, so I could tell the last person who Bloody Miried had also used the water approach. I moved on to the other sink, secured the drain and turned on the tap. Iâd resolved to only stop when the sink was full. The other sinks had water as well. But I didnât notice until I saw myself being dragged sink after sink.â
âWas that the only way she attacked you?â I asked. âMaking you swallow water?â
âShe wrung my neck. And I tried to fight back, but she kept slamming my head against the sink. Thatâs all I remember about the ghostly encounter. Next thing I know is me waking up on the sickbay floor.â
My mind conjured an image of Doreenâs head slamming hĂŚrd against the ceramic sink. I blinked, willing this bloodcurdling image out of my mind.
âItâs weird how you knew the dangers involved in this game and yet you played it anyway,â Raheem said.
Doreenâs eyes dulled as she extended her lower lip. âIâve never been one for that game.â
âSo why did you do it?â Raheem stole my unasked question.
âAll day, our classmates were discussing about Miriamâs death and the game. I went to use the toilet, and I found a girl from my class there, Bloody Miring, but it didnât work. And she seemed disappointed. Shaking her head, she said it was all crap, and then she left.â
âSo you tried it,â I wrapped up the story.
Doreen looked away. No doubt, she had started to regret her decision to play the game. But game or no game, someone wanted her dead.
âSo, about this classmate of yours who was Bloody Miring,â Raheem said, âI take it she was the last person to see you before the incident?â
Doreenâs stern look sent a warning bell going off in my head. If we didnât slow down, weâd end up scaring her and she wouldnât want us around her anymore. But Raheem didnât seem to understand this. So much for letting him do the talking.
âYes?â Raheem pressed on.
Doreen cleared her throat. âYes.â
âWhat is her name?â
She narrowed her eyes at us. âWhy are you asking me these questions? Do you think someone tried to kill me?â
âYes,â Raheem said. âSomeone tried to kill you.â I shot him a warning look. I hadnât expected him to be dead-honest. This could ruin everything.
âNot a human,â Doreen said, her voice rising to a near-scre-m. âA faceless ghost. A freaking ghost.â
Shivering, she hugged herself and swept frantic eyes around the classroom. âShe could be anywhere. Miriamâs ghost came to hurt me because I disturbed it. And here you are trying to pohappenedint fingers at some girl just because she had to be at the restroom during that period.â
âPlease calm down,â Raheem said. âWeâre not pointing fingers at anyone or anything.â
âThen do you believe my story?â Doreen asked. She searched my eyes and Raheemâs for an answer, but she found no indication of us believing her story. âYou think itâs all a lie, donât you? You actually believe Iâd make up something like this? What do I stand to gain, painting myself as the crazy one? That ghost is freaking real! You can go find out for yourselves if you donât believe me. Seriously.â
Just for the benefit of doubt, I could actually pay the crime scene a visit. Who knows what I could find.
âItâs not that we donât believe you,â Raheem said. His face, just like mine, showed no conviction. I prayed Doreen didnât think much of this. âWhy, of course we do.â
âThen why are you so interested in finding out the last person who saw me before the incident?â Doreen asked.
âWe have some questions for her,â Raheem said. I cursed under my breath. The more honest answers he gave, the more untrusting Doreen would be. Didnât he know this?
One moment, Doreenâs eyes wÂĄdened, and the next, she narrowed them to slits. âWhy? You think she tried to kill me?â
âFar from it,â Raheem said. âSince she was, as you said, Bloody Miring, we want to have a word with her to know if she had any encounter whatsoever with the said ghost.â
âThat wonât be necessary. I already told you hers was unsuccessful.â She relaxed her tensed muscles.
Leaning in to her, Raheem stared into her third eye. âThere could be other things, Miss Chukwu, tiny details she didnât tell you. But sheâll be willing to share with us. And perhaps we can stop this game and all its silliness. Everyone is scared. The wh0le school is shaken. We just want to end this game before anyone else gets hurt.â
Doreen thought about it for a moment. âAnnabel Lambert.â
Raheem smiled. He leaned away from her. âThank you. Youâve been much help.â
We turned to leave, but then he whirled around to ask a seemingly urgent question. âYou wouldnât happen to own a perfume called Tobacco Vanille by Tom Ford, would you?â
I c*cked an eye at him. What did a perfume have to do with our crime solving?
âNo, I donât,â she said. âI use Wild Urchid by Tom Ford and White Diamonds by Elizabeth Taylor. Why did you ask?â
Disappointment flitted across Raheemâs face but he tried to conceal it. âNothing really. I just thought maybe you could refer me a place to purchase it.â
âNo, sorry. You could place an order on Jumia or Konga. Iâm sure theyâll have it.â
Raheem raked his fingers through his hair. He didnât seem satisfied. âSo, you donât know anyone who uses this perfume? It opens with rather strong tobacco notes that fade to more vanilla, a hint of spice, and less tobacco. The tobacco note doesnât quite fade. Itâs still around, lingering somewhere in the middle.â
âIsnât that a male perfume?â I wondered aloud.
âI know someone,â a girl said from behind us. We turned around to find the girl whoâd been in a conversation with Doreen. Walking past us, she placed shortbread and coke on Doreenâs desk.
âThanks,â Doreen said. âBut really, you didnât have to get me anything. Iâm not even hungry.â
âOh, shush.â The girl waved off Doreenâs comment with a backward flip of her hand. Catching Raheem staring at her, she beamed at him.
âHi,â Raheem said, reaching out for a handshake. âIâm Raheem.â
âNengi.â Her eyes flashed with sheer excitement as their hands met. Typical. Girlsâexcept meâwould always be girls. âWe already said our hellos.â
âOh, yeah,â Raheem said. âSo where were we? You really know someone who can direct me to a shop where I can find this particular perfume?â
âYeah. Tobacco notes, right?â When Raheem nodded, she went on, âThereâs one girl in our class whoâs crazy over it. I guess sheâs the only one using it, so you can always ask her. Itâs weird though. Considering that itâs all masculine and stuff with the tobacco notes and all, and the market is littered with varieties of softer, fruitier perfumes that appeal to us females.â
âWhat is her name?â Raheem asked.
âAnnabel Lambert.â
Raheem and I glanced at each other. Annabelâs being the last person to see Doreen before the incident made her our number one lead. But what did a perfume have to do with anything?
âDory dear,â Nengi said. âYouâre forgetting Sir Amadi asked you to come over once the bell rung for break.â
âUgh!â Doreen gro-ned.
âJust go see what he wants.â
âI know he only wants to question me about yesterdayâs event. How many times am I going to tell them I was attacked by a ghost! The school is haunted. But the adults donât seem to believe me. They think Iâve lost my mind. But you believe me, donât you, Nengi? I mean, even if the wh0le world doesnât, youâll always believe me, wonât you?â
Nengi placed a hand on Doreenâs shoulder, but she didnât express her support in words. Once again, Raheem and I exchanged knowing stares. Nengi had a hĂŚrd time believing her friendâs story.
Perhaps we could have a word with her. Since she probably didnât believe the ghost story, interrogating her would be more rewarding than the session weâd conducted with Doreen. We could ask her some questions we could never be able to ask Doreen based on her stand on the matter.
âMaxwell also has faith in your story,â Nengi said with a smile.
Doreen grimaced at the mention of Maxwellâs name. âWill you come with me?â
âI have to stay back and complete your Biology note,â Nengi said. âBreak is almost over, and you know Madam Pamela will mark notes today.â
âOh, right.â Securing her biscuit and coke in her locker, she said, âI wonât take long.â
âOkay.â
Doreen turned to leave, but then she grimaced at Nengi. âWhereâs one of your earrings?â
Nengiâs hand flew to her left ear. She felt around for her earring and found it. Slowly, she moved her hand to her other ear. Finding nothing, she gasped.
âJust take off the other one and find yourself new earrings,â Doreen suggested. Without waiting for Nengiâs response, she walked out of the class.
Raheem engaged Nengi in a conversation. âIt must be really hĂŚrd for her.â
âPardon?â Her face looked like someone had just died.
Why would someone grieve over a missing earring? Probably, it must have cost a lot. But whatever. She needed to get over her loss, find herself some new earrings and move on. How hĂŚrd could that be?
âI mean, after yesterdayâs incident, the wh0le school must feel really creepy,â Raheem explained. âBut sheâs managed to pull herself together and be around all the same.â
Nengi sighed. âYeah. Iâm creeped out too. It was all so unexpected. Once the bell rang for break, she went to have lunch, and a few minutes later, news reached me. Weâre bestfriends, weâre always together. And just this once we werenât, look what happened. I should have gone with her, but I had to remain in class to do my technical drawing assignment. Perhaps if I were there with her, none of this would have happened. I feel so guilty right now.â
âI understand how you feel, but donât blame yourself so much. Thereâs nothing you can do about it now. Itâs happened, and no amount of pity-party can change that. You do well to keep that in mind. Besides, I doubt youâd have been able to fight the ghost if youâd been there.â
âFaceless ghost?â Nengi scoffed. She looked around, and although everyone else had vacated the class, she dropped her voice to a whisper, âJust between us, I donât believe in the so-called ghost. I mean, Miriamâs been dead for what, twenty-one years, and this game has been played ever since, but not even once has she hurt anyone or even been seen. So why should now be any different?â
âValid question,â Raheem said, perching on the desk. âSo you think someone attacked her? Someone from our school?â
âThatâs the only logical explanation, isnât it?â Nengi held a stiff smile.
âI believe so,â Raheem said.
âBut who would want to do this? Dory is a very innocent soul. She never offends anyone. She stays away from fights and every trace of trouble. I donât see her having an enemy. Why would anyone want to kill her?â
âThatâs why we need your help,â I said. âYouâre her best friend. You should know one or two things that could point us in the right direction.â
Nengi nodded, seeming to understand my point.
âHas anyone made any threats to harm her?â Raheem asked.
âNone that I know of,â Nengi said.
Searching her eyes, Raheem willed her to think deeply about his question. âAre you sure?â
Perhaps I could make this easier. âYou mentioned Maxwell. Were you referring to the guy in my class?â
Nengi looked from Raheem to me. âThatâs the one.â
âIs he in a relationshÂĄp with her?â I asked.
It took a moment for an answer to come. âNo. Doryâs single, at least for the most part.â
âCare to clarify your last words?â Raheem asked. âSingle for the most part? What does that imply?â
âMaxwellâs been showing some kind of interest in her. I donât know what it is, but theyâre getting pretty close. The texts, small talks and all. If he didnât have a girlfriend Iâd say heâs got a thing for my friend.â
âThis girlfriend of his, who is she?â Although Iâd seen Max with a certain junior on more than one occasion, I had to ask. I didnât want to reach my own conclusion.
âAnnabel Lambert,â she said. Once the words left her l-ips, she gasped. She clapped her hands over her l-ips and gulped as though to swallow back her words. âOh my God! Do you mean Annabel has a hand in whatever happened to Dory?â
âPlease calm down,â Raheem said. âWe havenât reached any conclusions yet. We are just trying to connect the dots and see where it leads us.â
âWill you find the culprit?â she asked.
âOf course.â The look in Raheemâs eyes told me we were done questioning Nengi. But then, another question popped up in his head. âUhm, Nengi?â
âYeah?â
âDid you ever visit the restroom yesterday?â
âNo,â she said. âI told you I stayed back in class to do my technical drawing assignment. And even if I had plans to visit it later, what happened to Dory ruined it all.â