2023-07-20 06:08:55Hopkins sat alone in shear silence in the lounge of his mansion. He stared at the large portrait of Ivy mounted on the wall. In his right hand perched a walking stick.
The door to the main swung open and Serge, having composed himself after the verbal bout with the detectives, charged in rubbing his hands.
Serge announced his presence, “Father.”
Hopkins, without disturbing his stare at the portrait acknowledged Serge’s presence, “Any news about my daughter's killer?”
“No father.” Serge took a deep breath. “The police haven't yet made any arrest.”
“The police?” Hopkins wondered aloud and rather disappointed.
Serge kept his cool and assured, “Yes. They are doing everything possible.”
“I tasked you to do one thing. Just one thing” Hopkins raged on. His left hand trembled vehemently. “To do whatever you can to bring the culprit to me. You come here to report about the damn police? Did I tell you to go to the police?”
“No father.” Serge still kept his cool. He dared not let his chin perch flat on his chest.
Hopkins exhaled audibly in disappointment, “It's almost a month now. I was right about you. You have failed me again.”
“Have a little more faith in me.” Serge insisted in a pleading but firm tone.
“I had. It's all gone.” Hopkins cleared his throat and called out. “Kilo!”
KILOGRAM, a muscular man wearing a stern face, in his thirties, with a heavily tattooed neck, walked and stood in silence. One wouldn’t miss his love for the color black – even from a distance as he was all clad in it.
Hopkins continued after a moment, “This is Kilogram. He'll investigate and avenge my daughter.”
Serge gave in without a fight, “Yes father.”
“All I need is the head of whoever cut short the life of my Munchkin.” Hopkins demanded in a firm tone. He cleared his throat and placed further emphasize on his demand, “I've already given you half of the money. You'll get the rest when my daughter is avenged.”
Serge offered graciously “I can pay the other half. Please let me handle it.”
Shaking his head light, Hopkins declined, “No. All you must do is to remember that "what happens in Rome, stays in Rome."”
Serge nodded, “Understood.”
But Hopkins was far from being done with his cautious speech, “If you talk to anyone about this, you will have an issue with me. Understood?”
“Yes father.” Serge noted. His composure’s score was still excellent.
Hopkins waved his hand at Kilogram. The latter walked away without saying a single thing. Serge, however, remained rooted next to former. Silence was observed with both men looking at the Ivy’s portrait.
Meanwhile, at Ian’s home, Pola stood in the lounge admiring abstract paintings. A few moments later, Ian emerged from the passage with a cup of steaming tea in his hand.
Surprised to see Ian clad in a pristine suit, Pola stood dumbfounded as though looking at a ghost. She stared at him, “Wow. Now this is something the world don't see every day. You look awesome and fresh.”
“Coffee or tea?” Ian offered.
“I'm good, thanks.” Pola declined courteously before turning around in awe. “At best I thought you live in a cave. A great haven you have here.”
Ian sipped his tea and replied, “Thanks.”
“What's the occasion?” Pola inquired.
Ian made a quick reply, “I've a date with my son.”
“You have a son?” Pola inquired
Ian came answered, “Yep. He turned twelve today. I thought I should surprise him.”
“Aww.” Pola blushed with glee. “That’s awesome. Where's he?”
Ian weighed in without blinking, “With the mother. We divorced years back. She was something else.”
“That’s sad. I didn’t know you were married,” Pola confessed.
“Yep,” Ian answered after a moment of wander in thought. “But she was violent and abusive. I couldn't take it anymore.”
Pola weighed in “That's very unfortunate. Seldom do we hear about men being victims of domestic violence. The frenzy is about women.”
“It takes courage to open up, but it's worth the trouble.” Ian pointed to the scar on his face.” You see this?”
Pola nodded “Yep.”
“That's her.” Ian highlighted.
“Wow.” Pola was amused. A moment later, her phone rang. She fetched it from the pocket and quickly remarked after glancing at the screen. “It's Wizard” Then she answered the call and placed the phone against her ear, “Hey”.
Wizard voice was heard oozing through the ear- piece, “We have your man. The finger prints on the samples you gave me match some Priest's. It’s possible he’s linked to Ivy’s death. You better zero in on him and fast.”
Pola gave in to a few nods, “On our way. Thanks.” Tucking the phone away, she announced, “The priest is our man.”
“Let's go.” Ian put the cup on the coffee table and the duo walked out of the house. They hurried to the car and the tyres screeched as they sped away.
A silver lining was now eminent for Ivy’s justice.
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