The Girl From Maiduguri (B.E.A.N. Police) Read online

  "Did I say something funny?" Morefishco replied.

  Majekodumi waved his hands downwards. "No," Majekodumi said. "You lost a black box?"

  Morefishco shook his head. "The hover-car's travel recorder."

  "I gave it to Inspector General Ibrahim," Majekodumi said. Morefishco spun around, and jogged along the path the Ibrahim had gone, just in time to see him step into a black hover-limousine.

  "Son of a gun," Morefishco muttered under his breath.

  "Who's son?" Majekodumi asked.

  "You mind if I borrow that?" Morefishco asked. Majekodumi followed Morefishco's finger, pointed at the carbon fiber door of the hover-car.

  When Dockery and Churchwell arrived at the port they were greeted by a mob of citizens protesting in front of the ship. Policeman Lawanson drove as close as he could to the crowd before stopping the police cruiser. "Please wait one moment while I discover what is happening," Lawanson said. He stepped out of the cruiser and disappeared into the throng.

  Dockery looked at Churchwell in the rear-view display. "I hope this isn't the line for passengers on standby," Dockery said.

  Churchwell looked at her PDA. "But we're on time," Churchwell said. "Our tickets are guaranteed."

  Dockery chuckled. "Nothing is guaranteed."

  Ten minutes later, Lawanson re-emerged from the crowd. When he sat back in the police cruiser, Dockery noticed his face was anxious. Churchwell stared at Lawanson, waiting. Lawanson said nothing. Dockery broke the silence. "That bad huh?"

  "There has been an outbreak of the virus on the ship. The crew and some passengers are infected. The Ministry of Health has quarantined it," Lawanson said.

  "Virus?" Dockery asked. "What virus?" Dockery leaned back against the cruiser door.

  "He means malaria, Dockery" Churchwell said. "We got our shots before we left Bostonia, remember?"

  Lawanson shook his head. "This is something that the government has been trying to manage, but it has been hard since vaccine has finished."

  "Is it fatal?" Churchwell asked.

  "Well...not really," Lawanson said.

  Dockery slapped on the dashboard. "What do mean, not really? Either shat kills you, or shat doesn't kill you," Dockery said. "And you just went all up in the middle of it."

  Lawanson spoke low. "No one I know of who has contracted the disease, has lived long enough for it to kill them. They just kill themselves to escape the pain."

  Dockery turned around and stared at Churchwell, who was staring right back. "So what now?" Churchwell asked the Lawanson. "We may all be infected."

  "No," Lawanson said. "The Ministry of Health has determined the virus is not airborne."

  Just then "Incoming Call" flashed across the HUD. Lawanson reached towards the navigation computer to answer it. Automatic gunfire rang out, with a few rounds ripping into Lawanson through his window. The blood splatter nailed Dockery's shoulder and face.

  Dockery immediately tapped auto-drive on the navigation computer's display. The police cruiser revved up and sped in reverse away from the crowd. Dockery kept his head down while Churchwell lay in the backseat. They could both still hear bullets ricocheting off the cruiser. Still huddled low, Churchwell could hear the roar of the crowd dip as the cruiser moved further away from the dock.

  When it sounded to Dockery like they were out of harms way, he commanded the cruiser, "Stop!" The cruiser continued at the same speed, still in reverse. Dockery commanded again, "STOP!" However, the navigation system didn't respond.

  Churchwell was now sitting up in the back, and turned to see where the cruiser was hurtling to. She saw an intersection that was a dead-end to a guardrail. "Dockery!" Churchwell said. "We're running out of room here!"

  Dockery turned around to see the guardrail, as well as the vehicles passing alongside it. He attempted to stomp on the brakes, but ended up stomping on Lawanson's feet. Still the cruiser sped towards the guardrail, with only a few tens of meters to spare.

  Dockery grabbed the steering control. "Buckle up!"

  Churchwell strapped herself into the rear seat. Dockery with his free hand, buckled himself in the front. He yanked the steering wheel towards him. The police cruiser howled into a spin-out, and then slammed into an on-coming van. The van deflected the police cruiser into a lorry, which rammed it halfway through the guardrail. The police cruiser was left hanging off the edge of the roadway, threating to plunge into the refuse abyss below.

  Dockery took a moment to get his bearings. He looked at Lawanson next to him, and saw Lawanson's blood-shot eyes staring back through him. The cruiser teetered between life and death. Dockery called out, "Church-well? You all right?"

  Churchwell groaned from the rear seat. "I...I hate driving with you. You know that right?"

  "I...wasn't...driving...this time," Dockery replied.

  Churchwell felt the cruiser dip, and then fixed her gaze on Dockery, who was still facing forward. "I'll come to you."

  "Well, do it slowly, or it's our asses," Dockery said. The noise of traffic and the crowd swelled around them. Churchwell slowly unbuckled her seat belt. She froze each time the cruiser would rock. Churchwell pitched her body forward, and then grabbed Dockery's headrest with each hand. The cruiser dipped. Churchwell and Dockery both gasped. When Churchwell reached the center console, the rear of the cruiser inched upwards.

  "Now what?" Churchwell asked. Through the rear-view display, Dockery saw a lizard scramble from the guardrail, onto the trunk of the police cruiser. The rear or the cruiser inched downward, until it plunged off the roadway into the subterranean refuse dump.

  CHAPTER 4

  Blanc Check

  It was close to two o'clock in the afternoon when the Hausa NPF cadet driving Inspector Morefishco arrived at University of Maiduguri. It had taken Morefishco that long to track down Inspector General Ibrahim. The air conditioner in the police cruiser felt like it was blowing in the thirty-five degree Celsius air from outside.

  "Aren't you hot?" Morefishco asked. The cadet sat in the driver seat ignorant of the red blotches that had peppered Morefishco's face and neck.

  The cadet pulled the cruiser into the first free parking space he saw. "The air conditioner is on, sa," the cadet replied.

  "That's not what I asked you cadet." Morefishco wiped his brow with a once-white cotton washcloth from his pocket. "What's you name?"

  "Adu, sa." Cadet Adu twitched. "Yes, I am a bit hot, sa."

  That's what I figured," Morefishco said, and then pulled out a value card from his wallet. "Get us some boli and minerals. Tonic water for me." Morefishco then jumped out of the police cruiser and into the heat that threatened to knock him down.

  Make sure you're back here before I am." Morefishco tipped down his hat and proceeded through the sprinkling of summer session students.

  Halfway up the stairs to the main building entrance, he heard light footfalls behind him.

  "Special Inspector Morefishco!" Morefishco turned around and shook his head. Cadet Adu was already sweating buckets in his black uniform. "What if they do not have tonic water?"

  "Use your imagination," Morefishco replied. Cadet Adu stared a Morefishco for a few seconds, before nodding and taking off in the heat. Morefishco continued up the steps into the university.

  Inside the building, the air conditioning felt like ice water again Morefishco's skin. He could now visually appreciate the "Jewel of Borno" as the university was commonly referred to. Looking out through the glass-walled lobby Morefishco marveled at manicured lawns and bordering gardens, the curves of the adjacent buildings making it look more like a palace than a academic institution.

  At the information booth was a hologram of a slender and bronze-skinned woman dressed in native attire. She was surrounded by seven access displays on glass stands. When Morefishco got within about three meters, the hologram woman responded with a smile. "Welcome to University of Maiduguri, my name is Amina. How can I help you," she said.

  Special Inspector Morefishco, F-I-I-B." He flashe
d his credentials at Amina. In a few seconds, Amina scanned Morefishco's identification, and verified his identity.

  Amina's image flickered, and then she replied, "Special Inspector Morefishco, I am at your service."

  "Yeah, yeah." Morefishco dismissed Amina's pleasantries with a wave of his hand. "I'm investigating an accident involving one of the university's hover-cars."

  "Campus Police...Chief Lawal...staff annex." Amina turned to her left and extended a glowing arm towards a map on the access display closest to Morefishco. From below the display, a net-paper version of the map appeared. Morefishco grabbed it.

  Thanks," Morefishco said.

  Students parted as Morefishco strode with his eyes on the map. Marked in red was a path from where Amina's was, to his destination in the staff annex. A green dot on the map tracked his movement.

  The staff annex building was constructed with a blend of white marble triangles and glass windows. As soon as Inspector Morefishco came into the lobby of the staff annex, the information holograph directed him to campus police.

  Immediately to the back and left of the staff annex information booth, was a uniformed officer encased in a glass booth. The officer seem to rise automatically to an upright position, showing her broad chest and thick arms. To Morefishco's surprise, she was not Nigerian, not black Nigerian anyway.

  "Hi!" Morefishco exclaimed.

  "Yes, Inspector Morefishco, I'm white, but not oyinbo like you. Welcome to Maiduguri University Campus Police. Amina reported your arrival and forwarded your basic inquiry." Morefishco was experiencing shock and awe. She smirked. "I'm Sergeant Usman."

  Morefishco guessed Usman was born in Nigeria of Lebanese parentage, judging by the combination of her pearl white complexion and middle-eastern features.

  "How can I help you?" Sergeant Usman asked.

  "Can you tell me who may have been driving this vehicle?" Morefishco pulled out his PDA, and then transmitted the hover-car's vehicle identification number to Usman's desk station. Usman turned to the display and began tapping and dragging across it.

  "What is the driver's condition," Usman asked.

  "Burned to a crisp," Morefishco said.

  Usman looked up to Morefishco. "Just what we need." She lost her lighthearted expression, and then turned back to the display. She ran her fingers across the top part of the screen. "Hover-car, registration, H-V-2-2 was scanned out this morning," Usman said, "by Marc Blanc."

  "One of your professors?" Morefishco asked.

  Usman shook her head without turning away from the display. "He's listed here as a visiting Scientist."

  "From where?" Morefishco came up to the booth until he was against the glass, but couldn't quite see Usman's display.

  "New Lagos," Usman replied."

  "Can you beam that to me, including his office location?" Morefishco asked. Immediately he heard his PDA ding on acknowledging the transmission. Morefishco looked up to catch Usman's eyes. He gave her a thumb up. "Thanks Sergeant."

  With Sergeant Usman's directions, Inspector Morefishcho made his way to the Science Building and was now riding the smart-lift up, when his PDA chimed. "Morefishco," He said, once he heard the beep from his earpiece.

  "This is Inspector General Ibrahim. I have the information from the hover-car's on-board computer."

  "Marc Blanc was the logged driver," Morefishco said.

  "Yes," Ibrahim replied. "How did you know?"

  "A little bird told me," Morefishco said.

  "Heh?"

  "Nevermind."

  "I have just beamed you the details," Ibrahim said.

  "Okay," Morefishco said.

  Ibrahim continued. "It appears to have been more than an accident."

  "Go on," Morefishco said.

  "I had only viewed the first few minutes or so of the scene details before I was suspended from the case," Ibrahim said.

  "Suspended? By who?" Morefishco said. "You're the acting Inspector General!"

  "His excellency, the governor of New Lagos State," Ibrahim said.

  "Does his excellency know he's way out of his jurisdiction?" Morefishco asked.

  "You do not understand," Ibrahim said. Morefishco rolled his eyes. "I have been ordered to turn over all evidence and case files, to you."

  "Me?"

  "Yes." Ibramhim answered. Morefishco's mind raced. "Good luck Special Inspector Morefishco."

  Morefishco heard the disconnect tone of his PDA. He then tapped the screen icon for data download authorization.

  When the download finished, Morefishco tapped the video file from the hover-car's computer memory. The image stream started with a view of Marc Blanc driving into the night. Morefishco fast-forwarded through the mundane, until he saw a flash in the dark of an image. He slid the timecode bar backwards until he saw the flash, and then returned to real-time play.

  Professor Blanc had fired a weapon at the roof of the hover-car. Then the hover-car veered off the main road and into the surrounding vegetation. Morefishco watched Professor Blanc fire again. Then the hover-car lurched, and then Professor Blanc turned away from the vehicular camera. Morefishco heard Professor Blanc swearing to someone or something, and that something was now outside the front of the hover-car.

  Morefishco saw the hover-car's windshield blow away, and then Professor Blanc continue firing outside into the night. Moments later, the hover-car struck something, and then the image went black.

  When Morefishco got out of the smart-lift, he found an information portal ahead of him. Professor Blanc's office which he shared with an I. Natarajian, according to the information portal, was to the right, the fifth office on the left. Staff members acknowledged Morefishco with a suspicious glance once they caught a glimpse of his uniform.

  Morefishco got to Professor Blanc's office and saw someone crouched down behind one of two desks, pushed together. With a quick scan of Professor Blanc's area, Morefishco noticed a Green Eagles cap on the packed bookshelf beside his desk. The shelf was filled with mostly non-fiction books, with long technical titles.

  A woman rose from the crouched position. "May I help you?" she asked Morefishco, with an American accent. A pair of glasses hung from a chain around her neck and her black hair was packed in a bun.

  Her white lab coat dwarfed her thin frame. There was no visible make-up on her narrow, olive face. She waited for Morefishco's response, like a teacher for a stalling student.

  "Inspector Morefishco, F-I-I-B." He flashed his crest with his image identification. "Are you I. Nat-ar-ji-an?"

  "Ingrid Natarajian, yes." She stopped her work. "If you're looking for Professor Blanc, he's not in yet."

  "Miss Nata-ra-jian," Morefishco said. "Did you work with Professor Blanc?"

  "I still work with Professor Blanc. I'm his research assistant," Natarajian said. "What's this about?"

  "I'm sorry Miss Natarajian," Morefishco said. "Professor Blanc died in a hover-car crash early this morning."

  After what seemed like an eternity of free-fall, Churchwell felt the police cruiser hit something that snapped like a tree, and then she heard smaller, higher-pitched versions of the same sound. After about thirty seconds of this, the cruiser came to a halt.

  Once the dust and debris settled, Churchwell could see that daylight appeared to be coming from below her. She could see dead branches, pocking through the holes in the broken glass, and the splotches of blood across the remaining window glass. She realized that the police cruiser was upside down, and so was she.

  "Dockery?" Churchwell called. She got no response. On her second call, Dockery responded.

  "You...you screaming loud enough?" Dockery replied, struggling to catch his breath. Churchwell sighed in relief, and then looked to Lawanson in the driver's seat, his body contorted.

  Dockery followed Churchwell's gaze to Lawanson. "If he wasn't dead before, he's dead now," Dockery said. "Let's get out of this sardine can."

  CHAPTER 5

  The Rain

  The shimmering pink sun hung
just over the horizon, wrapping Maiduguri Terminus in its arid heat. Outside the terminus, Omoaiye stood in the shade of an iroko tree, texting away on his PDA.

  Omoaiye: he no get map.

  Oga: But you delivered my message?

  Omoaiye: no, accident.

  Oga: Stupid idiot! Now you have an oyinbo inspector minding our business.

  Omoaiye: Ki ni big deal?

  Oga: What's the big deal???? Millions of Afris are at stake, not to mention you neck.

  Ingrid Natarajian bought herself a one-way ticket from the booth at Maiduguri Terminus, and walked through the concourse with determined steps on her way to the train platform. On the overhead display hanging in the center of the terminus, Ingrid saw the flashing "Boarding" message of the "20:05" train to "New Lagos". She had taken only what she could stuff in her handbag.

  It had taken all of Ingrid's strength to keep herself upright when Inspector Morefishco had told her Marc was dead. Those suppressed emotions gripped Ingrid on her insides again, and began to bubble up within her as she remembered the last time she had been with Marc.>

  Ingrid remembered feeling Marc kiss her goodnight long and deep. He then slipped her the address to his flat in New Lagos. Marc told her if anyone came asking for him before he came to pick her up, she was to leave Maiduguri for New Lagos immediately.

  "Don't tell anyone when you leave or where you are going," Marc had said. "No family, no friends." It frightened Ingrid when Marc had said it. When Ingrid had asked Marc why, he said he would explain everything once they were back together in New Lagos.

  As the final call by the conductor to board blared out, Ingrid boarded the train. She could feel her head spinning.

  Ingrid took the window seat facing the end of the car. Hopefully, no one would bother her with small-talk. She turned her body towards the window and gazed at the dirt-blackened outer wall of the tunnel leading out of the terminus.

  The train inched forward. Ingrid closed her eyes for a moment. She then opened them again to watched the place she had just grown accustomed to slip away as the train picked up speed.