THE STREETWALKER (2)

Entering the red-carpeted lobby, Ben with a beam pointed a sofa for Adet to sit while he went fiddling with the television set. A movie channel came on and a romantic flick was showing. It was apt and Ben left the television alone and moved towards a diminutive fridge. He opened it and without asking, brought out a big pack of juice and two glasses and brought them around to where Adet sat. He placed them on the centre table and then asked: ‘Do I put on the AC or fan?’

‘The AC,’ Adet smiled and answered like the spoilt child she was. She did love luxury.

Done putting on the air conditioner, Ben walked around and joined Adet on the sofa which was the only seat in the lobby.

Ben opened the pack of juice, drew a glass nearby and poured himself the drink. When he attempted to do the same to Adet, she said: ‘No, no. Please, don’t. I’d taken too many soft drinks already. Right now, I’m too cool and would love to be on the high side.’ She let her palm brush his thigh for a few seconds. ‘I need a cross between a gin and a beer.’

There was a popular brand of drink with these constituents and Ben mentioned it and Adet nodded in affirmation. She already knew the brands of drink the hotel kept in the fridges in the rooms for their guests and what she mentioned wasn’t one of them. Also, when Ben opened the fridge, she had surreptitiously leaned sideways to assess the contents and it wasn’t among the other drinks.

Ben could have used the intercom to order the drink but he roused Adet’s suspicion more when he decided, after going in and coming out of the bedroom, to climb down to the bar which was on the first floor to get the drink by himself.

When he closed the door of the lobby and Adet could hear his footsteps going down the stairs, she decided to quickly do some sleuthing and be certain of who she was going out with.

The thought of the three women who left the fast-food bar and didn’t return when Ben picked her up kept haunting the remote nooks of her mind. The fast-food spot was like the Labour House where those who had work would go to pick a labourer. When a particular task is accomplished, the labourer would return to the Labour House for new opportunities at the thriving hours of business. Adet couldn’t stop wondering if luck had hobnobbed with her friends so much that morning that they did pick up other clients on their way back. ‘Whatever,’ she thought, ‘I’d get to know.’

Adet put her hand on the doorknob but waited, then put her ear on the door and keenly listened. She bent low to gingerly look through the keyhole but found the key stuck in it at the other end. Like fishes in a jungle stream, diverse thoughts darted through her mind.

She had thought: ‘What if there is another fellow inside the bedroom? What if as I’m looking in, Ben walks in? What if something shady is going on? ...’

Not wanting to further waste time standing and guessing, Adet turned the knob of the bedroom door and her head moved faster than her body to peep inside. The bed was behind the door and the curtains were all drawn. The room was quite dim with the sun blazing outside. Even with the dimness, Adet made outlines of bodies in the bed. She felt she had intruded into the privacy of others. Did the job seeker have a partner who probably was smooching with another woman?

Staying at the doorway for some seconds and not getting any reaction, her heart slightly racing fast, she ignored the switch as the light could be seen outside and dashed for the window, lifting up the curtains. Adet froze as the sunlight unveiled four naked bodies of women stacked close to one another and sleeping like hibernated snails through the dry season. She swiftly dropped the curtains, slipped through the door and closed it. Her countenance like a typical day in the wet season was gloomy.

Adet was quick to realize she shouldn’t let her emotions run away with her. A villain was on the prowl and she had to do everything possible to stall him. She refrained from doing anything to rattle him. One darn mistake and the rogue could elude arrest.

With what weapon should she club him to submission? The pointed heel of her shoe readily presented itself for consideration. She had to be on point or else if the son of a jackal escaped, he would sentence her to death with his claws and fangs.

Adet was doing everything possible to be in a safe position to defend herself. Ben might have thought he had successfully baited her but Adet was thinking really hard about how to surprise him. She dashed to the fridge as footsteps were coming up the stairs, got her missile and perched back on the seat as the doorknob turned.

Ben walked in chatting, his eyes going first to assess the bedroom door. He placed the drink on the centre table, apologizing for not being fast and for that, the barman took the blame. He moved towards the fridge and that froze the smile Adet had managed to plaster on her face. She thought her little game was up. But Ben picked the opener on top of the fridge and returned to open the drink. Adet swiftly too became bubbly again.

‘I feel like swallowing you up,’ she said sensuously. Her white mini jeans skirt had ridden up and her glowing thighs were spread wide apart and Ben gazed generously at the thin white strap veiling her private parts.

His stunned gaze returned to the bottle he was holding and he opened it, the hiss coming more from his lips than the drink. Adet swiftly dipped her hand to the side of her leg covering the cold lager bottle slightly numbing it and the bottle flashed out and squarely landed on Ben’s head. He let out a bloodcurdling yell. Shards of the bottle and drops of beer and blood flew in all directions.

Ben slumped and hit the centre table as the pack of juice, the glass of drink he poured himself and the bottle of drink he had just opened tumbled and spilt their liquid towards Adet. She agilely jumped to her feet, the broken bottle dangling from her hand. She positioned it in such a way if Ben had stirred as if to attack her, she would have stabbed him again and again in whichever part of him got close.

Hearing footsteps rushing along the corridor, Adet dropped the broken bottle and rushed out. The uniformed hotel staff, seeing how Adet flashed out from the suite and the red stains on her blue blouse with a neckline that generously revealed her cleavage, blocked her path and the female supervisor, Mary, in her white-and-navy-blue dress asked: ‘Please, did the sound we heard come from your room? What’s the problem?’

‘Your guest is the problem,’ Adet replied. ‘Let’s get to the bedroom and you’ll see what he has done to my friends.’ Adet wheeled around and led the supervisor inside. The waiter with a bow tie and the housekeeper in his blue overall closely followed behind.

‘What happened to him?’ Mary asked, seeing Ben’s bloody hands clutching his head and he was prone and squirming on the carpet.

‘Let’s reach the bedroom first,’ Adet said, flung the door open, switched on the lights and pointed to the bed.

The hotel staff rushed to look inside and when Mary saw the nude bodies of the four women, she yelled in shock and quickly walked the men out. She ordered a fresh bedspread which the housekeeper brought to her while she was informing the manager, Mr Nket, about the ugly development with the intercom. The waiter and the housekeeper closely watched Ben until he was bundled out to the security post to wait for the police.

Mary covered the four women with the bedspread before Mr Nket could see them and he never stopped asking: ‘I hope the young man hadn’t tampered with their vital organs?’ It was a veiled reference to the unwholesome practice of ritual killing which was rampant throughout the length and breadth of the country (and the victim could be anyone, from a baby to an adult).

‘No, he didn’t,’ the two women beside him answered in unison. ‘But no one can say what he intended to do next,’ Adet added.

‘I’m glad you escaped it,’ Mr Nket said, directing his attention to Adet. ‘And in a way, you’ve helped to save us all. What would I have told the police and my employers? There are too many monsters appearing well-dressed these days.’ With that, the manager wearing a shirt and tie returned to his office to inform his employers and call in the police with the landline.

The dreadful news flew around like winged termites on a nuptial flight and the staff and guests who heard it milled around the hotel premises, corridors and bar like gathering soldier ants.

While Adet was in Mr Nket’s office, a security guard knocked and walked in to inform the manager as she was listening: ‘Sir, the guy with us had recovered and asked for water so we used that opportunity to talk to him telling him he’d get the water if he just opened up to us. We had without ceasing asked him what he intended to do with the women and with the pain and thirst racking him, he’d told us he was lining them up for his boss who he’d expected could come to the hotel any moment ...’

‘Come to do what?’ Mr Nket had interrupted the guard.

‘Sir, we asked him that question too. He refused to say much and acted like he was about to faint.’

The steady honking of a vehicle at the hotel gate announced the arrival of the police.

‘He’d open up to the police,’ Mr Nket said, left his chair and walked to the window, drew the curtains aside and looked down to be sure it was them.

Finally, Adet caved in to the emotion welling up inside her and her palms involuntarily covered her face and she bowed and rested them on her lap. She had seen a couple of her colleagues being slaughtered by clients and their vital organs torn out for reasons that were best known to the murderers.

She was extremely scared she just missed being a victim to a potential ritual killer or a clique of them. When she reflected on the myriad perils she courted daily as a streetwalker, tears dripped from her eyes and formed a brook in her palms.

THE END

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