JIJI NDOGO: I’m in hot water with the top brass

If like me you happen to work in law enforcement, the danger multiplies by the number of guns that could potentially put a bullet inside you. But I feel that accusing the Assistant Inspector General of possibly harming my wife is worth it, if it ends up being the truth. If I’m wrong, then I will definitely lose my job and probably go to jail. Or worse.

I arrived at this conclusion after deducing clues Sgt Sophia left behind in a letter before she disappeared, the main one being “a man with crossed swords”. Only higher ranks, beginning with the AIG, have that insignia on their uniform, and only one AIG is attending the police conference in Mombasa. Only one slight problem — no one else thinks that’s a valid clue.

“It is,” I insist. “We should find the AIG and ask him. If I’m wrong—”

Inspector Noklu, the man leading the investigation, interrupts me. “If you’re wrong, you’re a dead man, sergeant.”

As he storms out, I totally believe he means it. He has the face of a man who had slaughtered his first chicken at the age of two. Inspector Tembo, my boss and Sophia’s father, pulls me aside.

“You’d better be right on this, Makini,” he whispers. “These are hot waters you’re treading.”

“I can risk being wrong,” I say, trying to muster more courage than I feel, “but I can’t risk sitting here and doing nothing. It’s already been two hours since she went missing and I fear something bad might happen to her.”

He pats me on the shoulder. “It’s alright, son. She’s a strong woman and a damn good cop. She’ll come out of this fine.”

My father-in-law never approved of me marrying his daughter, and I don’t remember him ever calling me son. It has a nice ring to it, but I won’t get used to it. I assume it’s the bleak situation that has softened him.

“Can you ask him?” I say. “Can you confront the AIG?”

He shakes his head solemnly. “I’m afraid not. Not on your suspicions alone. Kidnapping is a real bad crime to accuse anyone of, leave alone such a senior officer. Why do you think he’d do it? You’re not being jealous again, are you?”

 On occasion, I’ve been known to act irrationally whenever another man shows interest in my wife. I know she married me, but my jealous self only considers marriage a thin thread binding us. There are so many other men she could choose from, so many better-looking men more qualified to be husbands.

“It’s not jealousy sir,” I say sincerely. “I think it’s something to do with the case she testified in. The one about corrupt cops. I think the AIG might be connected somehow.”

“Can you prove it?”

Of course, I can’t prove it. Why else would I not come out and say it?

“I know the bad guys are in prison but can we look at their call records? See if any one of them has been talking to the AIG?”

Again, he shakes his head. “That’s a long process and we still need something better than intuition to ask for the records.”

I’m running out of words to convince him to go along when Inspector Noklu returns, looking less stern.

He holds something up to eye level. “I went to see the AIG and I found this in his room.”

It’s a button from a female officer’s uniform.