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He lifted his eyes off the book when he was done. Ola sat still, not saying a word.
“What the hell is this? What has my accident got to do with her?”
“Didn’t you read what was in your hand? She knows you, because she had a hand in your accident. The other victims knew about it. The ones you killed, so tell me, lullaby man, did you do it to avenge Sham?”
“You want to talk about 2019? Leave Sham out of it! Make sure you don’t involve him in this madness. I’m warning you.”
“May his soul rest in peace. Why would I bother the dead? It’s just you left. So, I’m dealing with the only survivor of that ghastly accident.”
“ Who is dead?”
“Don’t you remember what happened?”
“We had an accident, I came out with a scar on my forehead and my arm, Sham came out with broken legs. Because of this lady apparently. So, I’m supposed to be getting clear answers. Why would she want to-”
“Armani, Sham died.”
“Are you crazy? I said he got paralyzed! What are you saying, Olamide?”
Ola’s eyes widened in shock.
“Armani. Shamwil died. You were injured on your arm, but you were unconscious, so we rushed you to the hospital. Your brother died on the spot. You were in a coma for two weeks. I was there for the burial- the boys too. Everyone saw him get lowered into the freaking ground while you lay on a bed, fighting for your life, so what are you talking about?”
It was Armani’s turn to bang the table in anger. The same Sham he was saying was dead was the one he’d left at home to come for his second questioning. The same Sham he had been living with for three whole years after everything went down.
“Sham is alive. He is living with me. If you buried the wrong person, that's on you, because he’s at my apartment as we speak. That lady and her friends put him in a wheelchair. If you want proof, I’ll give it to you.”
“My men went to your residence. There was no one there-”
“Get me my phone.”
“Armani-”
“Get me my phone!”
If Ola thought he was lying, he was going to show him. Of course, he didn’t want Sham to go through the entire stress of questioning- he didn’t want his involvement in all of this, but if proof was what the damned detective needed, he was going to give it to him.
He snatched his phone from the officer who had brought it in, finding his way straight into his gallery.
“I’ll show you my brother is not dead.”
He had taken selfies of both of them together in his apartment, and a few of him sleeping and reading. He scrolled past his current pictures and headed straight to the previous months’ own.
“I’ll show you that-”
He paused when he stumbled on one of them where he was supposed to be in his wheelchair, but the object stood empty in the picture. He was supposed to be sitting there, but Armani ignored the dreadful feeling that sat at the pit of his stomach until he had gone through every single of the pictures and videos where his brother was supposed to appear, but he’d only found an empty bed with a gentle dip where he was supposed to be sleeping, an empty wheelchair and just himself, smiling at the camera. He'd rushed out confused and angry, and when an officer tried to stop him, Ola objected, letting him go.
Armani had come to meet nothing. He’d driven home in a mad rush to come and meet nothing. Sham was nowhere to be found, and the worst part was how he’d disappeared with everything that was connected to him. His clothes, books, mugs, everything was gone. Like he was never there, yet, he didn’t want to accept that he’d been living with a revenant.
His world came crashing down with that single realization, and right in the middle of what was supposed to be his dead brother’s room, he stood, shivering in fear as goosebumps spread on his skin.
………………………………………
Detective Ola sipped hot chocolate as he sat lazily behind his computer, intently watching the screen. It was almost midnight, and the spy camera he had asked one of his men to install in Armani’s room was on record. For the entire five hours he sat in his study he got nothing.
The guy had been sitting at one spot in his own room, at the foot of his bed, knees hugged to his chest and rocking back and forth in the dimly lit space the entire time, but he’d dozed off a short while ago and was currently laying on the floor. Tiredness seeped through his muscles as he stood up to stretch. Nothing peculiar was happening until he heard his suspect’s room door open.
He sat back down just as a tall figure entered in a priest's robe, just like Hanzila had described. Ola sat up, watching as the man stood right in front of Armani who was completely knocked to even probably realize there was a foreign presence in his room, and there was no way in hell it wasn’t the man he’d been trailing for months now.
The figure stared at the sleeping boy for about a minute, and Ola was trying to make out the familiar face when the intruder looked upwards to face the camera directly.
“Blood of Jesus!”, the detective shouted as he sprang out of his chair.
An exact replica of Armani stood, smiling gorily at the camera, and when he looked at the man lying on the floor, it wasn’t his friend.
Armani wasn’t crazy when he said Sham was still alive, and what was supposed to be his corpse of three years ago was sprawled on the floor, and if he was right, he’d just witnessed a body snatching ritual.
Ola knew the intruder had seen him, so he grabbed his phone to call the team of men he’d sent to patrol the house and, in his frenzy, he’d knocked the mug off the table, the ceramic hitting the floor in a loud crash. They picked up on the second ring.
“Get into the house now!” The order was precise.
He began looking for his car keys and was ready to step out himself , but a knock on his front door had him pausing in his search. Ola went to get the door, his personal gun tucked safely in the waistband of the boxer shorts he had on.
There was no one there.
He stepped outside to check, and when he was sure no one was in or around his property, the detective came back to find a note right in front of his door.
He opened it.
The paper fell out of the envelope and a short hand- written note on it read:
Merry Christmas,
-The Lullaby Man.
But along with the voice in his head someone else had read it aloud.
