“I don’t trust you anymore. I don’t think you have my money, if you have it, bring it out, let me see” Basil said as soon as i sat down.
Something was wrong with Basil. Apart from being tattered, Basil seemed to have short memory disorder. One minute, he says something and the next minute, he forgot what he said.
It was unlike him who was a clever young man. Something must have happened to him in prison.
The Dutch, German and Switzerland government were known for one thing in Europe. If they captured a drug dealer who had their resident permit card or International passport, the victim risked the chances of being injected with one dangerous substance or another.
I believed that Basil has been injected with Drugs that could hold him captive for years, unless the antidote was injected into him.
He was ruined and it was difficult to know why they did that to him.
I wasn’t around when he was arrested. The versions of the stories i heard said that he was captured with large quantity of drugs.
The Dutch government were the fastest in releasing drug offenders from prison. An offence that could fetch one 4 years in Italian prison would take only 3 months in Holland.
We the blacks in Europe were too blinded to see that something could be hidden behind that quick releases.
It was while looking at Basil inside Bola’s apartment that i began to see beyond the goodwill.
Basil was drugged, his brain has been fried through injection and it was only those who committed that act against humanity, that could tell when and if he would ever recover.
“Basil, i told you that the money is in Italy. If you doubt me, lets go there together and get it” I said with tears.
The third slap landed on my face and blinded me at once. Basil had just slapped. I didn’t see what happened next but i heard some struggles; it seemed Solomon was pulling Basil away from me and the bastard traitor called Bola was standing there waiting for another opportunity to slap me again.
The only thing i did was to cry. It was difficult to even stand up from where i sat, my head was turning.
“Police is coming! Police is here! they just packed their cars downstairs” Bola suddenly shouted.
That was the news of the year as far as i was concerned. My eyes has cleared and i watched as Basil and Solomon opened the exit door and disappeared instantly.
Bola went to his room and brought out a white nylon containing some raw white cocaine. He was rushing to pour and flush it down the toilet when i grabbed his legs from behind.
The drug fell off his hand and splashed all over the place as he fell with his face and stomach.
“Jesus” He shouted.
The bastard was calling Jesus to save him after an attempt to kill me.
We were struggling with each other in his sitting room.
The cocaine powder could be seen all over the place.
Since Basil and Solomon did not jam the door closed, the neighbour couple pushed it open. The man rushed inside the apartment and helped me to block off Bola From hitting me again.
“The Police is here, i saw what happened” The stranger said.
His wife stood outside the apartment and watched. Two minutes later, Police came up to the 17th floor with three men and one woman. Basil and Solomon were among them.
They walked into the open apartment and stood in awe of the white substance that littered the floor.
One of the police stepped closer to the drugs on the floor, touched it with one finger and smelled it.
He said something in Dutch before he brought out his phone and made a call.
I was in tears as the drama unfolded. My tears wasn’t because of what was happening; i didn’t care much about that. My tears was because i was no more in danger of being killed by a psychopath who was recently released from prison.
I was sure that if Solomon didn’t come with Basil, he would have killed me while Bola watched.
The coward called Bola was misbehaving because of 3500 Euros he was supposed to pay me, or maybe he was getting his revenge due to how i dumped him for Zuby. However, if he was matured, he would never have allowed sentiments to becloud his judgement.
My return to him was purely for business. I was there to transport his drugs to Finland and make my money but since the pig decided that it was good to punish me, his own was over in Amsterdam.
An Igbo business man wouldn’t have done what Bola did. Even if he wanted to sell me out to Basil, an Igbo man would have simply did that without getting involved. Bola wanted to watch my face while i suffered but unfortunately for him, it was going to be the other way round. I was going to watch him go down for long. I would press for attempted murder which the Neighbour couple would affirm to. It would be his words against mine.
Basil, Solomon, Bola and the two strangers were told to sit on the floor.
The neighbour’s wife ran her mouth like a trained parrot, summarizing everything that happened. Her husband would nod occasionally as the woman told the Police how they pulled me from the lift and threw me into the apartment like a sack of bag.
The bastards didn’t know the power of women in Europe but they were about to find out.
I pitied Solomon for his involvement in the entire mess. But i pitted Basil more because he didn’t even know what was happening. I prayed that the Dutch Police consider the fact that they fried his brain.
As for Bola, he was going to regret ever thinking about hurting me.
I was the child of God and his mercies.
Just like Biblical Job, he had blessed me with joy but decided to take them away. It was only a matter of time before his favours appear in my life again and it appeared through the couple who saw me being dragged into Bola’s apartment as if i was going to be raped.
Yes, rape was going to appear in my police statement.
Two new female police officers arrived with two dogs later.
With plastic hand gloves, they started packing the powdered drugs from the floor.
The exhibit was supposed to put someone away for a very long time.