His works immediately captivated me.
His seamless flow from one form of creative writing to another is really fascinating.
I read his recent work Broken Cross and I was simply thrilled by this tale gripping story.
At some point you will begin to wonder if this is just a work of fiction or if this writer is trying to tell us something we don’t know. In all of this, the Broken Cross is a must read.
Over the next couple of weeks, for the first time in any print media truecrime.com.ng will bring you this thrilling novel chapter by chapter.
I am quite certain you will enjoy reading every line of this novel.
THE PROLOGUE
“The heart of man is quite deep and dark, like a tunnel it may seem. Who can see it all?’’
After all said and done, who am I to vindicate a character like Godwin Iyare- whose stock-in-trade was merely giving protective information to Alanta and his Gang.
It was during the Easter of 1987 that the Greek police under-covered those behind a particular crime that was first of its kind in the history of that country.
The criminal organization that was christened “Murderers Company” by the Greek Press was headed by a respectable member of the Greek society….. ‘A lawyer and a former Mayor of Nea Khalkidon – a small town near the Athens Port of Piraeus’.
Christos Papadopulos had between 1985 and 1987, headed a criminal organization that murdered eight persons….Men who were wealthy in the real sense of the term but had health problems and no nuclear family members.
The victims, most of whom were his acquaintances or those of his colleagues in crime, were murdered after they had been forced to affix their signatures on a plain sheet of paper on which a bogus will was later typed.
With the help of a private detective employed by a relative of the last victim who was a shipping magnate, the Greek police discovered that the property of the rest seven victims were shared amongst the criminals while Papadopulos inherited their savings.
Papadopulos with an enviable profession as a lawyer, could have been described in any Greek circle as a citizen above any form of suspicion.
But as the saying goes, “it’s not all that glitters that is gold”….Who would have ever suspected an ex-Mayor to be a leader of a criminal gang that nursed and hatched an unprecedented crime of that nature in the history of modern Greece…..Who would have ever suspected a high ranking officer like Godwin Iyare to be a supplier of both arms and information by which his colleagues were brutally murdered by a gang of notorious armed robbers led by Lawson Alanta.
I might be wrong and yet so right about the Broken Cross. However, the cross remains broken when it is void of the truth and the truth a shadow of itself.
It might be possible that the embittered Deputy Superintendent of Police (DSP) Godwin Iyare, who was said to be the Godfather of Alanta and his Gang; the famous armed robbers whose criminal exploits defied all security measures in the South-Western part of Nigeria in the 1980s, was really guilty as charged- (aiding and abetting criminal activities).
It might be possible that the then DSP who was hitherto executed alongside Alanta and his Gang, might have had an earlier romance with these said criminals, yet put up a face to be a “No Nonsense Cop’?’.
It is obviously true based on the testimony of Alanta “that there is no robbery without an informant”.
Who sold these information that made Alanta and his Gang “Ghost Like’’ in broad day light. Maybe the then DSP?
A second thought, why was Alanta so brutal to the men of the Police Force, who lost at least nine of its men to their criminal activities; could it be linked to some of the shady deals struck by Alanta and the then DSP???
No doubt the then DSP will forever be guilty as charged based on the evidence that summed up the judgement and possibly some personal attributes that the then DSP may have exhibited during his lifetime…. (A bad Cop whose worth’s no honour).
Nevertheless, the truth is still unfolding itself- in writings and verbal exchange. This book has decided to tell it again, perhaps gently and roughly…. (the other side of the coin). I hope you relate with it and thereafter make your judgement.
THE CHARGE
Amsterdam, The Light House Crew, a publishing firm. (Getting set for a crucial meeting……)
I’m so sorry but can this wait?” Trina said, trying desperately to keep her voice down.
She waved her left hand in despair, while the other hand glued her phone to her ears.
She nodded anxiously as the caller’s complaints boomed against her drums.
She walked the length of the corridor, casting furtive glances at the oaken door of the conference room.
“I understand perfectly well—noon will be fine.” She placed her hand on her forehead and made a comical expression of exasperation.
“I will come as soon as—”
“Yes . . . thank you.” She exhaled, pushing a stray lock of golden hair back into place.
Turning off her phone, she straightened her pencil skirt and hurried to the oaken door, pushed it open gently and slid in.
She tiptoed to an empty chair sandwiched between two obese men, Jack and John, the legendary twins of the Lighthouse Crew.
“Hi Trina . . . late again.” John whispered.
Trina winked at him.
Seated around the rectangular conference table were twelve eager faces, all looking up to Mr. Dan, a tall, rail thin man who pointed rather excitedly at a projection of figures showing to his right.
He turned abruptly and glared at the gathering. The CEO of the Lighthouse Crew was bony and heavily sunburned.
A faddist about his health, he lived on health food, shunned all meat and when he had the time, practiced yogi exercises. For his age, and he admitted to sixty-five, he was remarkably well preserved.
His face was oval and bony, not unlike a skull. His eyes were deeply sunk: small glittering stones, animated and restless.
His lips were full, his nose pinched, his ears large and flat.
“This is why we need a story that will bring our firm, the Lighthouse Crew to lime light.
We have been silent for so long a time, with half baked stories that bore the mind.
Darkness and untruth rules the media, but how long, I ask you gentlemen and ladies, shall we sit back, letting the tide sweep us out of the big picture, how long?”
His gaze pierced their faces as his eyes made their rounds amongst the seated journalists.
Raising his head, he undid the last button of his bespoke black suit and clasped his bony hands.
“The Lighthouse Crew is all about unveiling the truth, we must be passionate about the truth,” he continued.
“We are the Light, one that must shine. Awaken the giants within you and pursue stories that would expose hidden truths, stories that might not necessarily place us at the zenith, but stories that will definitely make us a beacon of light.”
He gazed sightlessly at the faces staring up at him in rapt attention.
“Yes, Jude,” Mr. Dan stroked his chin. He had noticed the incredulous look on his boyish face while he spoke.
“Beacon of light?” Jude asked.
“Yes . . . beacon of light.”
Mr. Dan was thoughtful for a few seconds.
“Jude, do you know what happens when you turn on a light bulb in a dark room?” he asked.
“It brightens the dark,” Jude replied.
“What else is peculiar about the event?”
The silence in the room was so thick the tick-tock of the wall clock was loud as detonating bombs.
Jude stared into space, trying to fathom what else was peculiar about turning on a light bulb in a dark room.
“Insects,” Trina’s voice broke the nervy silence. “Insects would flock around the light.”
Mr. Dan beamed. “Thank you Trina. I guess you all know now why its better we become a beacon of light than a beacon of wealth or darkness?”
From the confused looks on the faces of the men, it was obvious most still hadn’t cottoned up to Mr. Dan’s theory.
But the CEO did not let them dwell on their thoughts. His rich baritone cut across the hall as he announced the high point of the GM.
“You all will therefore go out into the field, search for stories and, of course, the best article produced will attract a cash award of $100,000, an all expense paid trip to Ohio and an automatic employment into our big brother Network, the Cable News Network, ……”
A hush fell in the room.
Then an excited babble rose like a prayer till it settled in silence.
The journalist stared at the picture of the rewards as was projected before them, their eyes shining bright, each nursing the dream of triumph and glory.
Seated on his throne, as the young employees of the Lighthouse Crew popularly called the high backed armchair at the head of the gleaming brown table in the conference room, Mr. Dan continued on the importance of hard work in the life of a reporter, the usual spiel with which he concluded such meetings.
But this time, his voice sounded rather far away.
All the journalists’ heard was the promise of heaven for the best article in the Lighthouse Series, the firm’s bi-annual magazine.
In the recesses of Trina’s mind was a light, new hope, a second chance and when she looked up at the glowing screen, the determination in her eyes were burning embers of coal.
To be Continued…..
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