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A Story written by Purityval
(0703440 1770, emmanuelchekwube887@yahoo.com.)

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‘The last call was made somewhere around Allen Avenue. The number is 041….. and about the registration. It’s a sham’

Sly read Kunle’s message from the comfort of exquisitely furnished sitting room for the umpteenth time. It had been two days he has been waiting to get a call from the cell but none had come in. he’d dialed the number after he got it de encrypted from Kunle but it has maintained switched off.

While he waited, he had taken the two days off trying to piece the bits of information he’d gathered together but it wasn’t still forming a whole.

His main suspect was Mr. Olive. Recently, he got informed by one of his informants monitoring Mr. Olive’s account that some amount to the tune of five million was withdrawn cash from his account. While Mr. Olive had seemed clean enough, Sly knew that nobody forgives nor forgets; atleast not for him. Even when some forgive, they never forget. The only thing not connecting was who the money was paid to.

Biting his lower lip he regretted not asking the guy the amount he was paid for the operation. “Damn”, he cursed. How could he have been in such haste? Only one reason seemed to explain it, he’d felt compassion for the guy and wanted to end his misery. He couldn’t remember ever feeling compassion for anybody till Claire came into his life. She’d created a soft spot in him unknowingly. He sighed regrettably relaxing back on to the couch deep in thought.

Just like a flash, an idea came into his mind. Immediately, he sprang up from the couch and rushed to his garage where he’d parked the Lexus with the hope of discarding it later on. Searching the glove compartment of the vehicle, he saw a wallet and some complimentary cards. He cross checked the complimentary cards; none seemed to match with anything that interest him. He flipped through the wallet and saw an ATM card and a folded piece of paper containing the perfect description of Claire’s house and office apartment.

Running back into the room, he picked his phone and dialed one of his contact. The bank that own the ATM card is a new generation bank and he has nobody there. As the phone rang, he tapped his foot on the floor impatiently. He would have headed out to the ATM close by but he doesn’t know the card details. The phone rang off without been answered forcing him to redial and just on the second time it was answered.

“Can you trace the details of an ATM from another bank?” he asked.

“Afex bank.” He replied.

“Ok I will send it asap, thanks.” He said ending the call.

Dropping the call, he typed the card number and name of the bank and sent to the number. After about ten minutes which had seemed like eternity to him, a message entered his phone. Impatiently he clicked it open.

‘Name of account-Nick Alius. Amount-0.00. last date of transaction …….’

He heaved deep and cursed under his breath flinging the card away. “What am I missing?” He shouted pacing the length of his sitting room.

After so much thought, he decided that he was going to contact and probably meet her.

To Be Continued…

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