• Lawyer a little too cosy with Makini's lover takes pleasure in delivering the bad news
So, I, Sgt Makini of the Kenya Police, at Jiji Ndogo Police Post, am still in a Kericho precinct cell, hoping to be granted bail and leave this stinking place. And by stinking, I mean the tiny cell literally reeks of fresh human excrement.
Why? Several weeks ago, an old man in Jiji Ndogo was shot dead using my police-issue handgun. How it left the Police Post and ended up in the hands of a killer is anyone’s guess. For now, I remain the prime suspect.
My lawyer is a fella by the name of Fudu. My colleague and girlfriend, Sgt Sophia, recommended him, and I’m meeting him today for the first time. It irks me how handsome the guy is. Trivial, I know, but every single man Sophia introduces me to is a bleeping Adonis. And no, I’m not insecure. I just happen to know she’s the most beautiful woman in the world and could date Brad Pitt in a heartbeat.
“So, how do you know Sophia?” I ask.
“I don’t think that’s the most pertinent question at this juncture.” Fudu scans a file on his lap. “As to the matter of your bail—”
“I’m footing your bill, aren’t I?”
“Actually, I’m doing this as a favour to Sophia. She and I go way, way back. As I was saying, the judge took into account—”
“How back is way, way back? What does that even mean? You two dated?”
“Does it matter?”
“Does it matter?” I scoff. “Of course, it doesn’t matter. Which farmer milks a cow while thinking of dinosaurs, right?”
“Have you seen Jurassic Park? They come back.” He smiles knowingly. “Anyway, the judge has refused to grant you bond.”
“What?”
“The DCI has put up a very strong case against you. It’s circumstantial at best, but I don’t see a clear way out of this one.”
“A strong case?” I begin pacing the cell. “What does that mean?”
“For one, your fingerprints were on the murder weapon.”
“Of course, they were. It is my service pistol.”
“The law can’t tell the difference. Also, there is an eyewitness who swears she saw you, in the company of two others, breaking into the old man’s house.”
“That was Sgt Sophia and me. The third guy was McOnyango, the old man’s son. That’s the day we discovered his father’s body.”
Fudu cuts me a scathing look. “So you admit to breaching the victim’s door?”
“McOnyango was in Jiji Ndogo looking for his father, who was already dead. It wasn’t like he would’ve opened the door.”
“Let me get this straight. Besides admitting your role in the man’s death, you’re also willingly dragging your so-called girlfriend in the mud with you?”
“No! She wasn’t there when the man was killed.”
“So you’re saying you were alone then?”
“I didn’t say that. Christ! Are you my lawyer or the prosecutor?”
“I’m playing Devil’s advocate, you know, taking you through the paces as the prosecutor will do. The way I see it, you have no chance if this goes to trial.” He closes the file, stashes it in his briefcase, and stands up. “They’re seeking the death penalty and there’s only one way around it.”
“Which is?”
“We make a deal. Thirty years in Kamiti Maximum.” He walks out, then pops his head back in. “Sophia and I will draw up the plea at dinner tonight.”
“Dinner? What dinner?”
He’s gone.
Minutes later, a policeman walks in. “You made bail, Makini.”
Flabbergasted, I walk out into the sunshine to find Fudu and Sophia laughing their heads off.
“Gotcha!” Sophia says.