Chief of police Daniel N sat in a roomy office on the second floor of the Lusaka Police Department. Despite the French windows that were flung wide open, allowing the noise and bustle form Cairo Road to permeate and create a distant, yet rumbling sound, the faint smell of cigarette smoke still lingered on. Chief Daniel, as he was more commonly known, was busy with some paper work; his characteristic cigarette rammed between his tobacco yellowed teeth.
“Chief,” Johnny said languidly, leaning against the door jamb, “It’s been a long time.”
The chief’s eyes snapped up as his mouth opened slowly; his cigarette dangling dangerously above his paperwork.
“Mr. Kett,” he said in his syrupy voice.
Johnny surveyed the Chief of Police with intense dislike. He was a fat bald man, maybe in his fifties, with a bustling beard which was a sharp contrast to his shiny head. He had small eyes that were almost always red-evidence of his debauchery and moral decay. He still gave off a whiff of stale alcohol under that unctuous mixture of cheap soap and even cheaper cologne.
“It’s Kitt,” Johnny said through his gritted teeth. He took a seat, uninvited, as the chief stared him down in an equal dislike.
“How can I help, Katt?” The chief spat out.
“Where the hell is my sister?” Johnny said roughly.
Chief Daniel N gave a him his indulgent smile; the one that made him look like a bearded bull frog. “We’re working on it, Katt.”
“Listen here, punk, she’s been gone for a year now! You aren’t getting off your sorry, fat-“ After roaring like that, Johnny realized he was getting touchy, and stopped abruptly.
“Look, Kitt,” the chief said very deliberately, “We have tightened security all over the city after the escape from the rehabilitation center. These scum are unstoppable; they want blood. I don’t have nobody to spare for your doggone sister!” The chief smashed his cigarette into a small cracked ashtray and leaned back into is chair.
Johnny bit his lip thoughtfully.
“These scum used to be people,” he said quietly.
“And now your sister is their savior,” Daniel sniffed.
“What do you mean?” Johnny snarled.
“Her blood is their sacrifice. Didn’t you know they needed her for research?”
Johnny’s face blanched. He felt like the blood that had been boiling in his veins only a few moments ago had turned to ice. He shambled slowly to his feet.
“You’re lying,” he whispered.
“I got the case file,” Daniel smiled wickedly.
Johnny felt like his world had stopped spinning; all he’d ever known suddenly seemed lost. When Bella was younger, she unfortunately had an affair with the chief, But Bella was a free spirit, and he reined her on. One day, she got up and left-no word, no sign, no prior warning. And now the sick dog sought his revenge.
“You see, that little twat, she kinda got what she deserved, y’know? She’s actually gonna be useful, that b- “
“Shut UP!” Johnny yelled, before bounding over the table and pushing the chief backwards. His iced blood had begun to boil again, and Johnny, a notorious hot-head, had reached his limit. No one could talk smack about Bella and get away with it. He grabbed Daniel’s neck, holding him precariously over the open French window. The chief still had his sickly smile on his face.
“That one is better off dead,” he snorted.
Johnny couldn’t help it. Inundated and driven by anger now, he stopped thinking. He pushed the chief over the edge into the rumbling traffic of Cairo road. Johnny looked at the mangled, spread-eagled body of Chief Daniel, with only traces of regret.
“That one is better off dead,” Johnny murmured. As realization of what he had done dawned, Johnny turned to make a break for it. He caught a glance of a case file on Chief Daniel’s table when he turned to leave.
It was hers.
Johnny grabbed it and ran.