With friends like these..... Enemies are welcome!
Dezen glanced back at the door, to make sure it was properly shut. That had been his priority, when he sneaked in initially. But it never hurt to double check. This door could not be locked, from the inside. Yet if anyone tried to open it, he would know because it creaked loudly. He was presently in a storage space, adjoining the room in which archives and documents were kept. Satisfied with the closed state of the door, he returned to the real reason for his visit. Walking over to a small stool leaning against the wall in the compact space, he settled in even for a moment.
Lifting up the single sheet in his hand, he began to peruse it like he had done many times already. However, this time he was determined to read it thoroughly. It was already apparent to him, that this was either the wrong sheet. Or there had not been much entry, made into it. And if not, he had come back to retrieve the right and possibly more comprehensive sheet. After reading it, he sighed in disappointment. Feeling betrayed, by its sparse content and vague information. This was not, what he had hoped to see.
From the flurry of activities, with law personnel. To the constant interrogations, at the magistrate’s chambers. He was quite certain, that there should have been more content to see, in the sheet he was holding in front of his face. Unless of course, this was not the main parchment and/or manuscript. Which was the basis for him, risking a return. He was convinced, that the cabinet he had opened, was a highly confidential one. Moreover, the package that contained the sheet, was also marked ‘Murder Investigation’.
Could this have been a ruse, created by the first magistrate? For the sole purpose, of throwing the likes of him off. The package was always in another small room, adjoining the committee's meeting chamber. The sixth magistrate scanned the sheet yet again, before quickly putting it away. He had just heard footsteps, so he slipped the parched script back into his coat pocket. The exact location, from which he had retrieved it just a few minutes earlier. Then he gently opened the door and slipped out, into the hallway.
“There you are, my dear friend Tufad.” Dezen greeted loudly, as soon as he was out of the storage room. The fourth magistrate was just rounding up a conversation, with another counselor. As they both walked down, the wide and adorned corridor. On hearing his colleague’s exuberant call for attention, he rushed to finish the discussion and bid his companion goodbye. As Tufad approached the other man, he seemed to be grinning. Yet his lips did not move. “How are you Dezen?” He asked rather drily. “What brings you here, at this time?”
“So you mean, that I can’t be around the work area, without an obvious reason. Or is it, that I have to get your permission?” Dezen’s voice was raised and his tone defensive and challenging. However, he went ahead to give an answer, to the other magistrate. “I just stopped by, to check something out. How about you, what brings you to the chamber at an off-session time?” He inquired slyly. “I had another meeting, with the senior council.” Tufad supplied practically, as he continued. “They are still trying to find out, who might have tampered with and removed some vital sheets from the ‘Murder Investigation’ package.” He finished, a hint of weariness in his voice.
“They are still trying to find out?” Dezen asked, raising his brows in a dramatic gesture of confusion. “Yes they are,” Replied the fourth magistrate, who was starting to feel irritated. It had been a long day of queries and inquiries and he did not need more of it, from his colleague and friend. “Since I was the only counselor, that the security guard saw leaving the area. Around the time the document was estimated, to have been missing. There is still an ongoing investigation.”
“Why?” Countered Dezen, almost in a rage. “Why is the investigation still ongoing? Where exactly, is it headed?” Without waiting for any answer, to his barrage of questions. He continued with his rant. “You admitted yourself, that you were the only one seen around the area. Around the time, the script went missing. What then could be the problem?” Tufad’s expression, became suddenly aghast. And his demeanor was obviously shaken, at the undeniable insinuation. Then he finally spoke, having stared at his friend silently, for a few moments. “Are you suggesting….?" He started to say, but changed his mind.
“I may have been the only one seen around there, at the time. But we both know, that I was not the only one there.”
“We both know?” Inquired Dezen incredulously. Not waiting for, or expecting an answer. “Yes,” Tufad began defensively. “We both know, that you asked me to wait at no no your seat. Anyone seeing me there, would have thought that it was you. However, the guard eventually recognized me as myself. Meanwhile, I am not sure exactly where you went.” He finished, watching his friend as if he was a stranger.
“Wherever it was I had gone to, is my business and my business alone.” The sixth magistrate shot back defiantly, his look menacing. Meanwhile, he pointed his finger at the other man and continued. “And you should always remember this; it is your word against mine.” He warned, lowering the finger that he had been wagging at the fourth counselor. “It is your word against mine,” agreed Tufad. “Yet that still does not and will not help your case a bit.” He finished confidently, even attempting a smile.
“What do you mean by that?” Dezen’s eyes narrowed, in escalating rage as he kept speaking. “You were seen at the scene, where a confidential sheet was stolen. Why is that hard to add up or figure out? Are you stupid, or are they stupid?” He sneered indignantly. “Neither of us are Dezen,” started Tufad calmly. Stopping briefly, to regard the other man with an expression akin to pity. “Maybe it’s time that you began to reconsider, your twisted values. Untangle the crooked and knotted system, that deludes you. You know what I mean, don’t you?” The fourth magistrate looked him over, before continuing.
“The constant act of trying to look right, without the intent or even attempt to actually do right. You expend so much energy and time, conniving, manipulating and eventually executing your plots. And then you spend even more of the same vigor, trying to prove that you are right and have indeed done right. And all this, in the absence of actually doing right.” At that, the sixth magistrate got ready to charge with his own words. But his comrade, uncharacteristically cut him off and down. Seemingly uninterested and unconcerned, about anything else he had to say. “By the way,” Tufad added. “How did you know, that it was one sheet missing?”
Borrowed (With permission), from 'THE MONITORS'/2015 by Chioma Onwudiwe
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