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Babu is no murderer part 2

Written By: woolie - Nov• 27•16

08:00 am Saturday 15th June

Commander Ruby Mwekundu Regional Crime Squad arrived at Police HQ to find an extremely upset Woolie Kondoo waiting for her at the reception desk. He stood up when he saw her and said ‘Finally, you’re here. How dare you send your storm troopers to arrest my Babu you evil witch! You only had to ask him to come back to the station. Nobody here seems to know where Babu is. Tell me, where are you holding him?’

Ruby stopped in her tracks totally taken aback by Woolie’s aggression. ‘What do you mean, Kondoo? Babu is at home. I dropped him off myself, yesterday.’ Woolie looked at her and shook his head slowly. He said, in a softer tone, ‘They came for him in the night. The neighbour told me armed police came in 3 Land Rovers. Are you telling me you had no idea?’

Just then Ruby’s mobile vibrated with an incoming message. It was from her boss, the Deputy Assistant Commissioner, and read, ‘Retired Chief Inspector Babu has been arrested in connection with 2 murders in a Westlands hotel last week. Commander Mwakundu I expect you to do your job and have the necessary evidence ready to have him charged within 48 hours.’ Ruby took a deep breath ‘Damn it! ‘My idiot boss is using Babu to get at me. He knows Babu did not commit these crimes.’ Woolie looked at her and said, ‘So what are we going to do, Ruby?’ he asked.

Ruby was already walking across the foyer. She said to Woolie, ‘Quick, first we go to my office. We’ve got to find out where they are holding Babu and get him out of this mess.’

They went went up in the lift to Ruby’s 14th floor office.

When Woolie was seated Ruby gave him a summary of the events of the past week. Then she said, ‘I’ll make some calls, find out exactly where they are holding him so that you can go and see him and reassure him. Trust me Kondoo, all will be well.’

On her second call Ruby was able to establish that Babu was being held at Muthangari Police Station on the James Gichuru Road. The OCPD was a good friend and he assured Ruby that Babu was sitting quite comfortably in an office at the station.

Ruby relaxed a little. She was quiet for a moment then said, ‘ Woolie, first we need to look at the facts as we see them. There is no question that the two items that Babu brought in on Monday were used in the murders of those poor victims. The forensic lab people have matched fibres from the nylon stockings to fibres found on Anindo Opondo’s neck. They also obtained DNA from her mucus on the stockings. The blood on the knife is an identical match to that of Ed Malu, the waiter. We urgently need to establish how Babu came to be in possession of these two items. My detective interviewed Babu yesterday with a degree of difficulty.’

Woolie said, ‘Babu has been taking medication for his enlarged liver condition. One of the side effects is short-term memory loss. He can remember stuff from the past but doesn’t seem to recall what he had for dinner the night before.’

Ruby listened carefully before she replied, ‘I wondered why he wouldn’t give his name at the desk.’ Anyway my detective was able to establish that Babu was at his farm in Mosoriot on Sunday morning, preparing to drive back home here in South B. His wife had given him a new LED torch to keep in the car in case of emergency. When he opened the glove-box to stow it away he found a loose bag with the bloody knife tightly wrapped in the black nylon stockings. The detective sent officers from a nearby Police station to check with Mrs Babu at the farm and she corroborated this account.

Ruby had paused to look at her notes and Woolie said, ‘But that is most ridiculous. Mosoriot is 320 km away how did these items get to be in Babu’s van? Wait….’ Woolie was scratching the top of his head where the hair was fast disappearing. He said, ‘Babu is a creature of habit. He always takes the van in for a service before embarking on a road trip to the shamba. Oil change, tyres check, radiator, brakes, lights, that sort of thing. Ruby was looking at him, unable to hide her sudden excitement. She asked, ‘Do you know where he has his van serviced?’ Woolie smiled and said, ‘Yeah, the Dogar Metro Garage at the corner of Junction Road.’

Ruby and Woolie drove up to the corner of Junction Road, past M&J Wedding Supplies and found the garage. Mr Dogar, the boss at Dogar Metro Garage was an affable man who sported a turban and a very wide moustache. He was extremely cooperative and answered their questions without hesitation or deviation. Yes, Mr Babu was a long-standing customer. Yes, he had brought his car in for a service on Tuesday morning, saying that he was to go on safari the following day. This was quite normal with Mr Babu. The mechanic who had service the van was Eric Muli a conscientious young man with a keen eye for detail. Eric was summoned to the office and gave a positive account of the work that he had carried out. He had changed the oil, adjusted the brakes and topped up the coolant in the radiator. The van was in tip top condition. Once completed he had taken the van round to be valeted prior to release.

As they spoke a BMW X5 with tinted windows pulled slowly into the garage forecourt. It eased its way down to the car wash end of the yard where valets with sponges and squigees waited. In Dogar’s office, they looked through the large window and waited, keen to see who would emerge from the large vehicle.

Oh, I see who it is,’ said Dogar, smiling. ‘It’s Senator Kibiwot’s wife. Another frequent customer. The lady has so many cars.’ As they watched, Mrs Kibiwot called to one of the valets and he went to the car. She got back into the car and brought out her hand bag. All the while she was talking to the valet. The watchers were not able to see exactly what it was that Mrs Kibiwot handed over to the valet. Mr Dogar was not smiling now and he said this was most irregular. The normal practice was that all payments for work done at the garage were made at the reception.

TO BE CONTINUED>

Double tragedy – Babu is no murderer. Part1

Written By: woolie - Nov• 24•16

Late afternoon Monday 17th June 16:30

An elderly man walked into Police Hq Nairobi carrying a small parcel wrapped in brown paper and bound tightly in parcel tape. At the reception desk he asked to speak to the the officer in charge of the writer’s murder enquiry. The desk Sergeant thought he recognised the man but he was not sure. He placed a call to Commander Ruby Mwekundu’s office. Ruby’s receptionist instructed the Sergeant to show the caller into an interview room where a member of the enquiry team would see him shortly. The team had been expanded following the discovery of another body. Officers were working round the clock in their efforts to catch the double-murderer. It was not even certain at this stage that the two killings were the work of one man. The girl had been strangled and the man had been stabbed multiple times in what the pathologists had described as a ‘frenzied attack’ (more…)

Acquitted

Written By: woolie - Aug• 28•16

“ Wait,” said Richard, “First click on the call tab. We might need to check the mic and speaker settings.”

“Translate that into English, will you.” said Babu. But Richard Kamba was busy punching several keys at once on the keyboard. He clicked on something else and looked at Babu saying, “That should do it. Try and call again.” Babu clicked on the call button and they all heard a sound, just like a phone ringing, on the other side.

“But….what if it’s in the middle of the night? She wouldn’t like that.” said Woolie. Kamba immediately disconnected the call. Nobody had bothered to check what the time would be in Toronto. (more…)

The black briefcase

Written By: woolie - Mar• 28•16

On Monday there was a small article in the right hand column of page 3 in the Daily News that said “Police now believe that a faulty gas bottle was the cause of an explosion and fire that destroyed a house in Ruiru on Saturday night. One man was killed in the tragedy…”

Saturday morning

It was 9.am when young Idris tapped softly at the bedroom door and walked into the dark room carrying the large breakfast tray. The stale smell of cheap Moroccan hashish hung in the air. He went to the bay window and slowly pulled back the heavy curtains. His master, eyes tightly shut, groaned and flung his legs about on the bed as bright sunlight poured into the room. (more…)

They have destroyed a good name

Written By: woolie - Mar• 17•16

Land of the Free

It has been said that in settling on a name for their new-born child the lucky parents are handing over the first of many life tools to their child. The given name, distinguishing each one of us from all other individuals is something that most of us will make our own and take with us, wherever we go, for the rest of our lives. (more…)

Super Tuesday

Written By: woolie - Mar• 08•16

When a man opens a car door for his wife it’s either a new car or a new wife ~ Prince Philip Duke of Edinburgh.

For as long as I could remember Tuesday evenings at the local had always been quiet. If you wanted a bit of peace or perhaps you’d planned to meet a friend or work client you could more or less guarantee a decent noise-free environment on Tuesdays. (more…)

the guns are with the bad guys

Written By: admin - Feb• 14•16

The car had not quite skidded to a halt when Woolie jumped out of the driver’s seat and ran round to get the passenger door. He held it open for her until she was seated. He closed her door and went back and settled himself behind the wheel. He selected drive, eased the handbrake and drove slowly down the short drive to rejoin the Mbeki Road where traffic was nose-to-tail in both directions (more…)

The river between

Written By: Blue - Jan• 19•16

July 2018

Aisha put away the letter and looked at her phone to see that it was 10:00 am. Almost time to leave. She folded a light jacket over her arm, picked up her back-pack and stepped out of her room. She walked down the corridor towards the front of the house. She stopped suddenly. The living room door was slightly ajar and she looked inside. Baba was there, still in dressing gown and woolly hat. (more…)

The crazy man at the post room

Written By: woolie - Nov• 30•15

Back in Babu’s office building they have this fellow who collects and distributes mail for all the offices on their floor. His name is Carlos and he has worked there for many years. His is a demanding job looking after the postal affairs of nearly thirty businesses. The post-room at the end of the corridor is his official HQ from where he issues decrees and directives. He has a staff of three harassed junior clerks working under him and between them they sort all the inbound and outgoing mail.

Last week saw me hunting for Carlos, sort of. (more…)

the announcement

Written By: woolie - Oct• 07•15

I paused for a moment, realising that Babu was staring at me, his mouth open. I thought he was either in a state of shock or he was very thirsty. Our glasses had been empty for a while, and I signaled to the barman, who had been standing close by, listening to the Malaika tale, to fetch more beer immediately. (more…)