They say that if something bad is going to happen to a person, that individual feels a premonition of danger. But Jonah experienced no foreboding whatsoever as he prepared to go to work that morning.
As a matter of fact he felt buoyant. Even the day itself was beautiful. The enchanting sapphire of the sky was decorated by tufts of white clouds. Coloured birds sang in the shrubs while butterflies played among the bright flowers outside the window. A red feathered small bird repeatedly hit the window pane trying to get inside. It was the day he had waited so long for. That day he was going to sign a deal acquiring SP Holdings-a deal which would make him one of the richest businessmen in Lilongwe.
Bringing his eyes back into the mirror, he fitted his cuff links together, adjusted his necktie which was slightly off-centre. He put on his jacket then took another look in the bedroom mirror. A freshly shaven big man immaculate in a striped suit looking several years younger than his forty-five looked smugly back at him.
He hugged his wife goodbye, picked his leather briefcase and walked out of the house. His driver, resplendent in a pressed dark suit and a matching peaked cap, stood waiting patiently by his big Mercedes Benz parked directly in front of the main door.
The chauffeur was opening the door for him when a police car appeared in the driveway and stopped blocking their way. The doors flew open and two uniformed policemen spilled out. While one was gigantic, the other one was very stunted.
Jonah had never seen such a pair of appallingly garbed policemen. The little one obviously had a bad tailor sew his uniform to fit him perfectly. The result was that it clung to his body like clumsily sewn clothes by a child on a doll. The mountainous one seemed to prefer loose fitting clothes. His crumpled uniform hung loosely on his huge frame as if he was dressed to make people laugh.
Jonah stopped in his tracks, surprised. What were the jokers doing at his house?
“Jonah Phiri?” barked the mammoth.
“I’m the one,” Jonah answered with a frown. “Can I be of any assistance, gentlemen?” The word ‘gentlemen’ was pronounced with clear sarcasm.
The Lilliputian arrogantly flashed a warrant card in Jonah’s face. The action was so comical that Jonah had to suppress a laugh. The guy either watched too many police movies or should have joined a drama group, Jonah thought with a smile. “Mr. Jonah Phiri, I’m a police detective with orders to arrest you.”
Before the meaning of the words sunk in, he found himself between the two shabby policemen and a pair of handcuffs were snapped around his wrists.
“We are taking you to Lilongwe Police Station,” the little policeman shouted with unmistakable glee while pushing him roughly into the police car.
The car took off at high speed. As they travelled in silence Jonah tried to make sense of the situation. He was not worried. This was obviously a case of mistaken identity on the part of the police. As far as he could remember there was no crime he had committed. They had arrested the wrong person.
At the police station, he was shoved out of the car unceremoniously by the small policeman. Jonah surmised that the little man in the tight fitting uniform must have a great complex about his size so he did not like him because he was big. He was going to deal with the midget once the matter was sorted out.
Jonah was led through the main entrance. The way the police officers at the reception desk stared at him filled him with apprehension. Was something going on he was not aware of?
They herded him into a small room sticky with heat and told him to sit down. A police officer, as big as Jonah himself, sat behind the table. He was crammed in a shapeless uniform that was bursting at the seams. Jonah now understood why his subordinates were poorly dressed as well. The pygmy made a sloppy salute then pushed Jonah into a chair.
“I’m Detective Inspector Jimmy Paipi,” the huge police officer introduced himself.
Jonah’s frustrated anger came to the surface. He was the richest man in Lilongwe and a solid citizen. As far as he could remember, there was no crime he had committed. How could they treat him like some common criminal?
“Officer, do you know who I am?” he asked belligerently, rising to his feet. The bantam savagely thrust him back into his seat. “I could call the police commissioner and you could find yourself being transferred to some remote police station.”
“You’re Mr. Jonah Phiri?” the police officer asked as if Jonah had not spoken. When Jonah nodded, he went on, “You’re Jonah Phiri. We’re looking for Jonah Phiri.”
Jonah smiled. “That must be another Jonah. Anyway, what do you want him for?”
“Sir, you remember you once owned a house in Kawale?” the policeman asked.
“Yes, but I sold it fifteen years ago when I ventured into private business.”
“The man who bought it sold it to a wealthy businessman early this year. The new owner demolished the old structures with the intention of building new ones.”
Jonah shrugged. “I don’t see how that has anything to do with me, officer.” He got to his feet. “I’ve an important business meeting to attend.”
“Sit down,” the detective inspector said severely. The order, which Jonah was about to comply with on his own, was immediately enforced viciously by the diminutive policeman who grabbed his belt and dumped him back into the chair. “When they started excavation work, they found a skeleton beneath where you had a shed. When they called us, we found something clutched in the skeleton’s hand which we believe belongs to you,” the police officer said as if he had not witnessed Jonah’s humiliation.
Jonah was slow to catch on but he caught on. Alarm suddenly showed on his face. This could not be possible. Not after more than fifteen years.
“How… how can a skeleton have something that belongs to me?” Jonah asked, trying to keep his voice calm.
“That’s exactly what we would like to find out from you,” the large badly attired police officer paused and held out a blue tag. “This belonged to you when you worked for Ziyere Industries, not so?”
Jonah’s eyes almost popped out with fear. The tag in the police officer’s hand read, ‘Jonah Phiri-Accountant.’
Jonah now had a disconcerting feeling that this was only the tip of the iceberg. “Well, that’s my name tag but what has it to do with the skeleton?”
“Everything,” said the police officer. “You see, on the skeleton we found another tag with the name ‘Skinner Joyo-Cashier’. You obviously recall Skinner, don’t you?”
Jonah’s response was to look around, as if that would help him remember. But his eyes met the dirty walls of the small room, the impassive face of the colossal policeman which reminded him of an imbecile, the evil countenance of the dwarf that brought into his mind a picture of a malicious demon and the pompous look of the atrociously clad detective inspector.
“He was the cashier who worked under you and disappeared with half a million kwacha,” the police officer reminded him. “Only that he didn’t disappear; you murdered him and hid his body under your shed.”
Jonah’s self-confidence evaporated like dew on a sunny day. How could this happen after all these years? When he closed his eyes, it was as if it had just happened yesterday. He could see the tall, thin young man darting noiselessly into the shed.
“It’s all done,” Skinner said handing over the briefcase to Jonah. “It’s all in there.”
Jonah opened the case. It was crammed full with K500 bills. He made a mental count and when he satisfied himself that it was all there, he slapped the briefcase shut.
“Do you think anyone saw you come here?” Jonah asked glancing at the plastic name tag pinned on the pocket of Skinner’s blue shirt.
“No,” Skinner replied shaking his head. “I followed your instructions to the letter.”
The money the young man had brought had been stolen from the office. As a cashier, Skinner kept money in a strong box in the cash office. Jonah had told him to empty the safe and bring the money to his house. After that he would send thugs to stage a fake robbery. He had convinced the cashier it was necessary to take the money before the robbery because he did not trust the robbers not to skip with the money.
The naive Skinner believed this. But this was not the real reason. He found out the real reason-but too late- as the rope that suddenly materialised in Jonah’s hands looped around his throat.
The young man fought desperately. He tried to attack the man who was choking him but all his hands managed to do was tear Jonah’s pocket. This was the last thing he managed to do. He soon collapsed to the floor, his fingers clenched closed, still holding the torn piece of Jonah’ clothing.
Jonah took Skinner’s body and put it in a hole he had already dug in one corner of the large shed. He covered the hole. It was when he went into his house that he realised that Skinner had torn his name tag that had been pinned to his pocket. Rather than do the unpleasant job of opening Skinner’s grave to retrieve the tag, he decided to let it rest in peace with him.
When he went to the office the next morning, he ‘discovered’ that money had been stolen from the safe. It was also ‘discovered’ that Skinner, the cashier had disappeared. It was assumed he had stolen the money and was in hiding. The police looked for him but did not find him until-
-two days ago, when the excavation team called them when they found the skeleton!
End
