Twisted Times: Son of Man (Twisted Times Trilogy Book 1)

Read Twisted Times: Son of Man (Twisted Times Trilogy Book 1) for Free Online

Book: Read Twisted Times: Son of Man (Twisted Times Trilogy Book 1) for Free Online
Authors: Vincent de Paul
room, she decided to tour his house. Whilst he was always very strict with his personal space he did not mind her intruding. They were more than just brother and sister. They were friends, and great friends at that.
    Everything was there… the evidence. She did not need to be told.
    Her brother was gone.
    She rushed to tell her mother.
    Were it not for her mother’s sharp voice she would have hit the door to her parents’ bedroom with a bulldozer force.
    “Why do you always do this to me?” It was her mother.  Her mother was crying. “Do you really love me?”
    “I told you I’ve got no son…”
    Virginia listened a little more and aborted her mission.
    They already know that he’s gone. But why…?

CHAPTER 19
     
     
     
    Urbanas drove the stolen sedan with audacity he never had. Not ever had he snaked through the streets of Nairobi with such confidence. Only twenty minutes before he had parked it outside the Central Police station and nobody could have noticed it was the one that was reported stolen last week. Pius was a jack and master of his trade.
    Today Urbanas had a meeting with somebody higher up the food chain. That was one way he prospered – making friends with the people who mattered.
    Urbanas got along well with people. The man he was to meet with was already there when he arrived. Desperate times really call for desperate measures, Urbanas said to himself.
    The man was not in his trademark sleek-funeral-pall suits. He was dressed in dirty jeans, a T-shirt and sports shoes. The man fit in the milieu as though he belonged there.
    Urbanas and the man sat at a dark corner drinking whatever was served at such places. The man did not mind though he tried very much to use the slang used there to conceal his uptown twang.
    It was during the drink that the man spelt out the assignment to Urbanas. He was to pay handsomely. Urbanas did not turn down lucrative deals, like this one.
    Half an hour later the man walked out of that malodorous place in haste. He was getting late for the cocktail party at the Hilton. He did not want to be late.
    Urbanas watched the man walk out of the pub and shook his head. The man and his ilk were always like that. Greedy bastards. They wanted everything to themselves. No wonder they are killing each other.
    But do I care? Urbanas thought as he finished his drink. All I want is cold hard cash, the fruit of my sweat. He left half an hour later.

CHAPTER 20
     
     
     
    Life at the university was what one made it to be. During the day, you couldn’t tell the robber from the victim, or prostitute from the virgin. At night they all looked the same. The nun and the tart were one laced as though with LSD at orgies like witches in a séance. Fraternities existed of who’s who; who did what, when, where and how. I made a life of my own.
    I was a good student for the first semester, but things started changing when I had spent all the money Kate had given me. I needed to pay rent for the shanty that I rented at one of the Nairobi’s sprawling slums, buy food and other personal effects. 20K had seemed a lot, but not for somebody living in the capital. I had nowhere else to go to since I had no intention of going back home, and I could not live under Kate’s auspices.
    Moreover, with my CPA and computer papers I got nowhere. All those I contacted to offer me a part time job blatantly turned me down. They wanted somebody with at least five years’ experience on the job. My pleas landed on deaf ears always. For jove’s sake, how was I going to have the experience if they were not ready to offer me the chance to experience?  At some point I considered Uncle Job’s offer, but I was too proud.
    I mulled over how to get money, my mind swimming in a pool of possible strategies and courses of action worth taking, but all possibilities were not viable. Desperation, bleakness and squalor pulled me down to the bottom of my pool of thoughts as though they were a millstone tied around my

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