“Send out the prints immediately for identification. I need a hand here,” FBI detective Johnson called out to one of the cops.
The exotic bedroom of the retired vault maker, Mr. Anderson Smith was in disarray as security officers and cops were carefully taping the crime scene and placing yellow numbered cards aside pieces of evidence.
Detective Johnson is a black American detective, one of FBI’s best and was assigned to investigate the case.
“Someone should get the paramedic! Take it easy Mr. Smith,” Detective Johnson put his notepad back in his trouser pockets and held down the old man as he twitched convulsively on the bed, he had been unconscious since they were called in. A cop was taking pictures of the man tied to the bed posts as evidence and was checking the tiny screen of the Kodak to check out his shots.
“Cut it man and give me a hand here, don’t you see the man is dying,” Detective Johnson barked and the cop came to help him.
The paramedics soon came in, untied him from the bed posts and began administering first aid.
“Good morning, Detective Johnson,” someone said from behind him and he turned around.
“Good morning, do I know you from somewhere please?” he stretched out his hand for a handshake.
“Of course we’ve met before. I’m the Ohio State police Chief and I came as soon as I got the information. Here, the whole information about the victim,” he gave the detective a file,
“I am pleased to meet you sir,” Detective Johnson said and they walked over to a study desk and opened the file,
“So, what do we know so far?” the heavy-set Police Chief asked as he sat down heavily on a nearby chair,
“From what I have seen, whoever that attacked him wanted something very important from him, right now we do not know what it is and the attacker seems to be a pro, although not professional enough to leave some prints behind on that Shakespearean book over there, on the bed posts and inside the gloves he left in the waste bins. The security details could not account for what happened yester night, they are all currently under investigation and I’ll send them to your station for questioning; I wouldn’t divulge my conclusions right now,” he said as he went through the dossier,
“Interesting, what would someone want from an old, retired vault maker?”
“He or she may be trying to find out a loophole or a way to get around a particular vault. I initially thought whoever that did it was trying to rob a bank or something but from what I’m seeing Mr. Smith is not just any vault maker, he was at the helm of affairs at the Mosler company for a pretty long time and his records indicate that he was good at his job. He helped design most of the modern day vaults used in banks and many other organizations,”
“I think he wants to talk to you, detective,” one of the paramedics called out to Johnson, both of them walked quickly to the huge bed. The man was saying something and Johnson turned on the recorder on his Smartphone and put it close to his mouth,
“Do you remember anything from last night?” Detective Johnson asked, the old man shook his head affirmatively,
“What were they looking for?” he asked, Mr. Smith pointed at his library and was muttering something but none of them could hear him perfectly well.
“Sir, we need to know exactly what happened or at least you can give us a clue so that we can work on it,” Johnson persuaded him, the phone still close to his mouth. The man shook convulsively before he went still; one of the paramedics checked his pulse.
“I’m sorry Detective, he’s dead,”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Detective Johnson said. He turned off the voice recorder and saved it before putting a call to Jasper, his nephew working with the CIA.
“Hello Jasper, have you gotten anything off the prints?”
“Yeah, his name’s Derek Oscar. One of the executives at G.S. Tech Corporation; a high tech company based in Dubai. He has dual nationality; his parents came from the United States and Nigeria. A regular traveler but he spends most of his time in Nigeria, no other useful info here unless you’re talking speeding tickets throughout the times he’s been in the United States,”
“I’m looking for information that would help me arrest this man and bring him in for questioning. Find everything you can find on him. If he takes a selfie or a picture of his junk with his phone I want to know. Can you track his current location?”
“Let me ping one of my sources in Dubai, I’ll get back to you. I think you should also contact the Counter Terrorist Agency of Nigeria and the Dubai security agencies, that’s the only way you can arrest him, I can do that for you if you don’t mind,”
“Just go ahead, but first track his location, that man is dangerous and must have stolen something which I believe is very important. I’ll send you an audio file immediately, analyze it as best as you can. That is the only lead we have on what this is all about,”
“Roger that, detective,”
“Alright, talk later,”
“You remember what you promised and its Hennessey or nothing else,”
“Jasper, you just get on it. We’ll sure hang out but I don’t let kids drink alchohol and get drunk, I’ve been there before and know what it’s like,”
“c’mon don’t be uptight Uncle Johnson, we had a deal. I’m no longer a kid for crying out loud, I keep on reminding you,” he protested,
“Just do it, okay? I’ll do something about it,”
“Gotcha, I knew you’d say yeah,” the kid laughed heartily and terminated the call.
“This is turning out to be one hell of a case,” Johnson said to the Police Chief, who shrugged.
“I’ll go and check out the bar and see what I’ll get, don’t hesitate to call my attention if you find something that might interest me,” the Police Chief said to Detective Johnson.
“Sure, I’ll do that and I’ll brief you on what I’ve gotten so far,”
“It’s okay if you can do that right now,”
“I had the prints checked and they matched a guy who goes by the name Derek Oscar. He works with the G.S. Tech Corp. in Dubai as one of their executives, there’s no motive yet as to why he would murder Mr. Anderson Smith but we need to find him and bring him in for questioning,” Detective Johnson said,
The Police Chief seemed to chew on the new information for a while and shook his head, “I’ll like to be kept abreast of your progress Detective, the media would surely like to know something but I can handle them. Call me if you need anything,”
“Alright sir,” he said and they got back to work.