THE SAFEST PLACE ON EARTH

The gloomy-looking tall man walked with a lack of alacrity towards the blue and white painted office. In truth, a delighted soul makes a happy face.

Dressed in a black striped shirt, black trousers and leather shoes, he was unaware of the bowing of his comrades as he sauntered into the elevator, and his mind rioted till he reached the front of an office, dipped his hand inside his pocket and brought out a bunches of key, inserted it in the keyhole and then yanked the door opened.

The office he merged into was painted white and blue, clean, and adorned with a few pieces of furniture, a laptop, and some other electronic devices. And the sturdy man walked into his chair, sighed and sat with a growl, and promptly opened one of the files in his front.

The anger on his face became more threatening as he flipped through the pages, and the knocking on his door made him grumble louder and asked, "who is there? Am busy right now."

The door was pushed open and a pretty woman in a short black gown stepped inside with an infectious smile, walked forward and sat on one of the chairs arranged in front of the unblinking man.

"Good morning boss."

"What is good in this morning? Take a look at the files of suicide death that we had only yesterday."

The lady shrugged, draw the files closer and peeked at some for a while, and then asked, "these are suicides and not murder, and we have nothing to worry about, except we suspect foul play."

"Unfortunately, the governor is not thinking from your point of view. He was the one that woke me up from the bed this early morning, and I am ordered to find a permanent solution to this increasing suicides in the state."

"To be fair to the governor. This kind of death had never been recorded in the history of this island, and this is one of the reasons why this place is referred to as the safest place on earth."

"My bad. Why is everything changing as soon as I was posted here?"

"Coincidence. Nothing but coincidence."

"I wish I can agree with you."

"So what's your plan?"

"Am at a loss. All the investigations conducted yesterday show they all took their lives without any reason."

"How many death?"

"Ten."

"That's unusual. We need to investigate if they have any debt, were blackmailed or were under some stress. Why will ten people take their lives within twenty-four hours?"

"What did you think we have been doing since this dilemma started? All of them were as clean as whistle and have no reason to take their own lives."

The lady scratched her curly hair, bend her head sideway and look lost in thought, and then let out, "  "perhaps there is a kind of deadly drug in town. Did their autopsies have any trace of illicit drugs?"

"None. Though am still waiting for the autopsy report of yesterday's dead men, the previous report did not detect any kind of illegal drug."

"It may be a kind of new drug that we aren't yet familiar with. I believe this is too unusual to be ignored."

"I will order a fresh autopsy and make sure we don't miss any vital information," the man paused his speech, brought out an impeccable white handkerchief from his pocket and mopped the balls of sweat rolling down his face despite the cold weather that is associated with every November morning in Cumberland island.

"Okay, boss. Now that am back from my one-month leave, let me know how I can be of service."

"I want you to accompany me to all the yesterday crime scenes. Perhaps I missed something because of my anxiety at hearing the news."

"Okay, boss. Let me quickly go and have my breakfast. Inform me on your way out."

"When will you agree to be calling me by my name?"

"Zuma sounds strange on my tongue, and that was why I stick to calling you, my boss."

"You better learn how to get used to it. There are places I won't want my identity to be disclosed, and calling me the boss won't augur well for me."

"Okay, boss... I mean, Zuma. See you soon."

Officer Zuma nodded and offered a weak smile, then buried himself inside the piles of files in his front.

Hours later, the ringing of the telephone in his front jolted him back to reality, and he stare at it for a while, rasped out loud and jerked the telephone receiver up in annoyance, "hello, chief of police is on the line."

"My wife is dead. She... She... Oh my gosh. You need to come right now."

"Take it easy and tell me what happened."

"I don't know what happened. I left home some minutes ago and was just stepping into my workplace when my neighbour called to inform me she had committed suicide."

"Where are you calling me from?"

"From my home."

"Your name, please?"

"Andrew. My wife is Maria and we were happily married. I swear I don't know why she killed herself because we aren't at loggerheads and neither did she lack anything. What's going on?"

"It's okay. Give me your address," Zuma mumbled, picked up a pen, scribbled down the address, and promptly disconnect the call after warning him not to tamper with the crime scene.

The silence in his office was shattered again by the nasty ring of his telephone. And like before, a young and promising youngster had used a nine-inch nail to punch his windpipe.

"Oh my gosh. Not today again!"

Zuma is wrong and five more suicide reports made him bang his large fist on the table, stood up with a snarl and marched out of his office.

As the chief of police of Cumberland island, the recent uproar had hit the forlorn-looking man harder than necessary, because he believed it was his bad luck that brought this commotion to the innocent dweller.

Since there is no fire without smoke, the chief of police has a reason for his self-accusations. 

"I see death... A lot of dead bodies where you are going." The voice of the soothsayer flows back into his mind.

"The island I am posted to is peaceful. Did you mean there will be a natural disaster?"

"No. It is your bad luck... I see death coming in the shape of a baby and swallowing everything and everyone. Be careful, Zuma. Be careful and don't ever turn the page."

"What are you talking about?"

The old witch was silent after, and Zuma was shoved off by the next customer in line.

Born forty-five years ago, Zuma's only success is in his work, and he can be termed a failure in every other aspect of life. Having no wife nor kid, he had buried himself in his job, and even the post of the state chief of police is below the services the enthusiastic officer had rendered to his nation. 

Though not a believer, he had shunned magic because he just don't believe in stuff like that, and his visit to the soothsayer was just a coincidence. 

A few days to travel to his new base, he followed his friend to the circuit carnival, and it was his curiosity that drove him into the hut of the soothsayer to know what the future had in stock.

The reality is scarier than the prophecy!

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