Chapter 7: The Horror Unfolds
I told my younger colleague to comfort Nnenna’s parents while I went back to continue questioning Baba Tunde.
He hesitated, but then nodded. 'Oga, I go try. Just find something quick, abeg.'
“How did you kill Nnenna?”
Baba Tunde looked me in the eye, voice flat. 'I strangled her.'
“Where’s the body? How did you dispose of it?”
“I cut her open, removed her internal organs, sliced the fascia, and stripped the meat from her bones one by one. I put the flesh in the meat grinder, ground it into filling, and stuffed it into sausages. The bones I cooked in a pressure cooker until they were soft, mixed them with goat and cow bones—nobody would know the difference.”
The fluorescent light above us flickered as he spoke. My mouth went dry. His words painted a horror that was worse than any Nollywood story. You could almost hear the whir of the grinder, the smell of mixed meat and fear.
Cold sweat covered my body. Baba Tunde described the dismemberment in such detail, it was as if I was standing beside him, watching him use a horn-handled knife to butcher a young girl.
I pressed my palms together, muttering a silent prayer. May God judge this man. Even the walls seemed to recoil at his confession.
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