It was now left to us to ponder how useful the information of this affair would be. An affair was the only logical explanation for a secret shared between the man of the house and a lady who wasn’t his wife. But as one in my line of profession would learn, logic and presumptions would have to be cast aside if the case was too be solved.
That is if there was a case.
“The rest of you should remain here,” Shola said walking out to the verandah with me. We both strolled out of earshot before we selected one person to interrogate. Ic hose the man.
‘So you’re Madam Aisha’s husband?” I asked.
He regained his composure, and putting on airs which I’d prefer a cheat not have, he said “That’s Alhaja Aisha. And yes, I’m her husband, Alhaji Muhammad Usman Sanni,”
Great, everyone had a chieftaincy title here.
‘So, Alhaji, who’s she to you?” I asked pointing my pen at the lady whom Shola was interrogating. Adding ‘to you’ would put him under the impression that I suspected them, ad coupled with the fact that it seemed I was taking notes, he would definitely mess up.
“S-she's... she’s…” he stuttered.
“Do you need water?” I asked, raising an eyebrow before pretending to take notes.
“K-Khadija? S-she's just my wife’s childhood pren. She’s staying with us p-por (for) a w-while she’s searching por a job,” he said, now sweating slightly. From the corner of my eye, I could see the women pensively crossing and uncrossing her legs while twiddling with the handkerchief in her hand.
Shola was doing a good job.
“She’s fine sha, (anyway)” I said, relaxing my tone as I put aside my pad. I just wanted to know whether she was your second wife, or your mistress before I asked her out,” I added, smiling coyly.
He first looked pensive when I mentioned ‘mistress’, but his look suddenly changed to a look of relief. Then he suddenly looked pensive again, but within a few seconds, he looked more relieved than ever, exhaling deeply and smiling while he still looked lost in thought.
His facial expressions were giving me more information than he would have liked, but it wasn’t still enough. Why did he look pensive again, and why was he visibly relieved?
“What time did the kid get missing?”
‘I don’t know, wallahi (I swear). When Aisha told me what happened, it was 7 pm – about 6 hours since Usman left the house. That should have been around 1 or 2, and I’d have been at work then. I wonder how a ferson (person), someone’s mada (mother) por that matter, can allow their child to leave the house like that! And I’ve warned her to stop beating…”
“Calm down, sir,” I thought, noticing he was visibly angry. “I’m sure she never meant things this way. What have you done to find him?”
‘We reported it to the police, but they’re not forthcoming. We’ve all gone searching. Khadija hasn’t gone to her shop since then. She’s been really helpful in helping us search… trying to fix Alhaja’s big mess!” he spat.
I calmed him down before he could start ranting angrily about his wife again.
“Alhaja?” I asked.
“She’s been looking for him too. We all have.”
I turned towards Shola, who was already done, and we both nodded, switching our subjects. I maintained an expressionless stare as I faced her, bringing out my pad again.
“And you are?’ she asked, meeting my gaze squarely.
I was surprised by her clean English, not replacing her ‘p’ with ‘f’ as the couple had done. And she spoke too confidently as well. I was beginning to wonder if Shola had actually gotten anything from her.
“The person asking the questions here,” I said, reasserting control “Ifeanyi is my name. You’re Khadija. Let’s skip the pleasantries and get to business.”
“Of course, Igbo men and their affinity for business,” she said, smiling like a flirt while adjusting my tie. Such gestures made me feel very uncomfortable.
“Yes,” I said, pulling away from her grip, “How long have you known Madam Aisha?”
“Since we were kids. She’s ten years older than me anyway, but we both went to the same school, and she became a sort of my guardian because she was a senior while I was just a freshman,” she said, looking at Shola who was speaking to Alhaji.
The man still looked quite relieved. I had to get some info from Khadija, or I wouldn’t know if there was a case or not.
“Hmm. That makes it clear why she was who you’d turn to while searching for temporary accommodation in your Abuja job hunt.” I mused, acting as though I was writing again.
The sudden jerk of her hand, followed by a quick relaxation told me everything. She didn’t expect Alhaji to have told me so much about her.
“And she hit the jackpot, don’t you think,” asked her, while making a show of looking at the big mansion. ‘He’s a really rich guy, even if he’s not all that pleasant to look at…”
“What do you mean by that? Who are you to...” she suddenly shot out, before she composed herself. “Aisha is my dear friend. I won’t have you speaking about her husband like that.”
Best friend my foot. I was beginning to see a clear connection here and a potential motive.
Alhaji only had slight, unsure feelings for Khadija – like a man who’s committed to his wife, but is being reminded of her shortcomings by a young, seductive side chick.
Khadija was quite obsessed with Alhaji.
All I needed to do now was find a motive.
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