[Story] The Bonny Island Massacre – S01 E09

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 9

The masked man had changed his outfit and even if Yvonne met him, she wouldn’t recognize him. He was dressed in a tuxedo. He was shadowing, House of Rep. member, Danlattu, who was a top notch member of the nation’s ruling party, AFC. He had seen the cake being served to him, and the man had taken a big bite. Then suddenly, he gave a loud yelp, and before anyone could ask what was wrong, he was vomiting blood.

It was not only Danlattu, who was vomiting blood; others who had eaten the cake were also vomiting blood. Daisy was not only vomiting blood, she had staggered and fallen to the floor, where she was writhing in pain.

Daisy: “She did this, that Yvonne, she poisoned me, and wants me dead” she said amidst painful moans. Then finally, she slumped on the floor. People could not gather around her because there were others vomiting and falling down to their death.

Mira stood and looked at the remaining chunks on the tray, then she looked at Yvonne who stood with horror on her face. The people, who were about to take a chunk of the cake, refrained from doing so.

Pandemonium broke out when they realized it was those who had eaten the cake, who were falling to their death. People ran as fast as their legs could carry them. They ran for their cars, some ran away forgetting their cars.

Yvonne: “What is going on here?” she asked no one in particular. The sight before her was a nightmare and she wished someone who tap her and she would wake from it. She felt like she had been thrown into a sea filled with icebergs, as her body ran cold, cold with fear and horror.

Bodies were splayed everywhere, with blood trickling out the side of their mouths. Within minutes, all the surviving guests had fled, and the Ngegwu mansion was silent like a graveyard. Yvonne looked around her and the screams she had been screaming inside her heart, burst out of her lips. Her scream rend the silent night, and it could be heard from the street below.

Yvonne: “Why me, why does this have to happen at my own birthday party” she cried, looking around for somebody. Her mother who had been transfixed in place by the horrific sight, was galvanized into action by her daughter’s screams. She rushed to her and held her in her arms.

Annabel: “It is going to be fine, baby” she said as the sobs choked her words. No matter how she looked at it, it was bleak. She could remember very well, that her daughter had announced to the guests that she made the cake herself.

Femi, while the cake was being unveiled had gotten a call from the private investigator. He had rushed into the house and gone to Yvonne’s bedroom, to receive the call. When the investigator gave him the same old story of ‘no leads’, he decided to propose Yvonne’s idea to him. The P.I had agreed that it was the next best option and had promised Femi to get to it. They were still talking when Femi heard Yvonne’s scream. His heart flew into his mouth as he imagined that something had happened to her. As he ran down the stairs, all he could think about was that, he had failed Yvonne. He promised her that he would protect her and yet he had left her.

But when he burst out through the patio door into the garden, he stopped abruptly. Femi took his hand to his face and wiped his eyes. He opened them again and what he saw did not change, gone were the guests, instead there were dead bodies on the floor, and they all had horror etched into their faces. It was obvious that their death had been painful. The dim lights, hanging in the low shrubs, casted shadows on the scene, making it more grotesque. Then he saw mother and daughter holding each other, and crying.

Femi: “Yvonne, what is going on here?” he asked, unable to come to terms with what he was seeing. How a beautiful party turned into a horror movie was too complicated for his mind to analyze. When Yvonne saw him, she ran to him and began to cry fresh tears. Femi just held her, he didn’t know what had happened, but it was not as important as knowing that Yvonne was safe. He watched as Annabel, Yvonne’s mother took out her phone and began to dial a number, he assumed that she was calling Yvonne’s father. Yvonne’s father had not taken time out to come for his daughter’s birthday party, Femi wondered now, if he would not dump whatever he was doing to come down to Port-Harcourt, now that this kind of massacre had happened in his house.

Just then they heard the wail of the siren, and the sound was coming towards the house. It was at that time, that the implication of what had happened fell on Yvonne. Fear and confusion fell on her, people had eaten her cake and died. Who would believe her if she said she didn’t know how that happened. The police van drove into the compound, with the wail of the siren breaking the quietness of the compound. Fierce looking men, with their guns cocked, marched into the garden, their guns pointing at the only three people found in the compound.

A tall, dark man, who was probably in his early forties walked up to the trio, he wore a cashmere sweater and dinner pants like he had been pulled off a date with a woman. He had a smile on his lips, but Femi realized immediately that it was a trick, to get them to relax, perhaps relax enough to spill their secrets.

Man: “I am detective Musa, we got a call concerning this residence, and coming here, I can see there is trouble. Anybody cares about telling me what went on here?” he asked arrogantly.

Annabel: “The head of the house is not home, you do know that this is the residence of Prince Ngegwu” she said, posturing. She was hoping that she could intimidate them with their name, to stall time enough for her husband to materialize from wherever he was. But she could tell from the mocking look in the detective’s eyes that he was not intimidated.

Detective Musa: “I am sure you do not need the head of the house to speak for you. Infact he is not here and he has nothing to tell me. But you all are here and in the best position to tell me what happened” he said with a sly grin. When no one made any move to speak, he turned and focused his eyes on Yvonne. She was a beautiful woman, he could tell, even though there were black streaks on her face, obviously from her mascara. Her eyes were puffy like she had been crying, but detective Musa was not moved by that. He fixed his eyes on her and turned on his charm. He thought that she was the weak link, and he could charm her into talking, even though the others didn’t speak. But he would soon find out that Yvonne was not one to be called vulnerable.

Detective Musa: “Sweetheart, I know how horrible you must be feeling, your birthday has turned into a carnage. I want to know what happened here, help me out” he said in the softest of tones, and with friendly eyes.

Yvonne: “Cut it out detective, I will not fall for your tricks. I know quite well about your reputation. These people died after eating the birthday cake, and I cannot explain that. I demand that you do a full investigation into this, and find the culprit who turned my birthday into carnage, using your words” she replied, the tears was gone and her eyes had become hard.

Detective Musa had a reputation in the Police force, he was known to do anything to mark a case as solved. There had even been rumours of evidence tampering, and setting people up with incriminating things, to nail them to a crime. People argued that it was always guilty people, who were smart enough to cover their asses that he usually set up. However the Police force had never seen evidence to prosecute him with, so he remained and as rumored continued to solve cases with any tactic available to him.

Yvonne making reference to his rumored reputation had put him in a bad mood and wiped off the smile from his face. His face was hard set, and his eyes had lowered to slits. He put his hand in the pocket of his pants and brought out a small writing pad.

Detective Musa: “So you say the guests ate the cake and just died?” he asked, writing God knows what in his writing pad.

Yvonne: “They began to vomit blood, and slumped” she explained. Her former confidence was gone, and in its place was fear and uncertainty. She did not know what was going to come out of the questioning, but she knew that ultimately, she was in trouble.