Quite Uncommon
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I guess you are right. The doctor said, while a girl walked by, heading up to the guest house. Her skirt was hip-stuffed, and two commas, either way, beneath the hips punctuated out their crests and revealed their middle. Her waist sucked in on the two corners and she was a big girl. She walked up briskly and hastily. What have we got there? the doctor said referring to the girl.
Some jerking rolls. The captain replied.
Whats on your mind then? Do you have plans? the doctor said jokingly.
For the girl? the captain asked, grinning.
Yes!
She may spin her hips along, while I spin this investigation till I find what Im looking for. The captain said.
CLEMENT MAXIMUS
The author is a graduate of Chemical Engineering from the Institute of Management and Technology, Enugu, Nigeria. He has written other novels and has this serious knack for writing. He lives in FCT Abuja, Nigeria, having being born in Jos, Plateau Sate, Nigeria. Writing and reading are his first nature.
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Quite Uncommon - CLEMENT MAXIMUS
Intro
I guess you are right.
The doctor said, while a girl walked by, heading up to the guest house. Her skirt was hip-stuffed, and two commas, either way, beneath the hips punctuated out their crests and revealed their middle. Her waist sucked in on the two corners and she was a big girl. She walked up briskly and hastily. What have we got there?
the doctor said referring to the girl.
Some jerking rolls.
The captain replied.
What’s on your mind then? Do you have plans?
the doctor said jokingly.
For the girl?
the captain asked, grinning.
Yes!
She may spin her hips along, while I spin this investigation till I find what I’m looking for.
The captain said.
QUITE UNCOMMON
Clement Maximus
missing image fileAuthorHouse™
1663 Liberty Drive
Bloomington, IN 47403
www.authorhouse.com
Phone: 1-800-839-8640
© 2011 CLEMENT MAXIMUS. All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.
First published by AuthorHouse 1/06/2011
ISBN: 978-1-4567-1914-2 (e)
ISBN: 978-1-4567-1913-5 (sc)
Printed in the United States of America
Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,
and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.
This book is printed on acid-free paper.
Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any Web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
Contents
Intro
Foreword
Special Dedication
Other books by the same authour
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Foreword
Such a book! Quite Uncommon is actually true to its name. A book whose story is so told as though one is leafing through the pages of a photo album. The account is so vivid and real, and the descriptions are nothing but pictures of persons, places and &c. expressed in words. Just read it!
Blessing Clement
Special Dedication
This book is solely and specially dedicated to my brother, Samuel Clement, a close companion in my afflictions.
Clement Maximus
Other books by the same authour
Photovirus (Found at I-procliambookstore.com)
Mysterious Affair
Secret in My Chest
Prologue
She had just been to the bathroom and had taken a shower after the day work. The water had rinsed down her body, slithering down languorously and caressing its way all through her body. She needed such a slow bath and would embrace her blanket intimately to her body, while she slept. She had stepped out of the bathtub and had dabbed her towel at her body in some delayed speed, until she was through. In the room, she parted the clothes in her wardrobe and singled out her night gown. It was pink in colour. Its neck was lined with lace fabric, white in colour, and its hem below her knees was lined alike. She dressed it on her body and it slept on it, digging out every curve of her body. She pulled a hair net over her head and dressed up her pant. Satisfied, she left the wardrobe and moved towards the bed, as she did so her hips gyrated and drove her night gown up and down at the back, until she would get to the bed. She almost dropped on it, when she remembered the light switch by the door and went for it. She got to it and flicked the light off and returned to the bed nocturnally. She slipped onto it and slid into her blanket, which she embraced warmly to her chest and dropped into sleep in the few moments that followed.
Outside in her compound a man waited with a gun in one hand. He wore a blue singlet over a muscular body, and this he joined with a pair of blue tanning jeans. He was tall and had a face depleted of flesh down to the skull. He was ducked in the flowers, while he smoked and watched the window in front of him. From where he was, he could figure out the shadow of the girl going in the opposite direction to the one it initially intended. It was only when the lights went out that he understood the reason for the opposite motion. Just the moment he waited for. He delayed a little while more and elongated from hiding. His gun weighed down in his hand, as he walked towards the entrance of the building. Moments later, he was there. He supplied the key he had and opened the door to the house, where the sleeper lay. There was no muse from the door, when he opened it and stepped in. He was in the living room of a two-bedroom and parlour apartment. There was no killing time; he put off the light in the passageway that led to the room where the sleeper lay, walked up to it and undid its door from closure and stepped in. With a gradual push, he returned the door to its frame and waited for any movement. None came and he flicked on the light, raising his gun simultaneously at the sleeper. Her head rose a little in vagueness and it was dropped back with a bang from the gun. Blood splashed and bespattered the surroundings of the pillow and the wall at the head of the bed. A finger-through hole appeared on her forehead. The killer waited for a while before retreating his hand from the firing. Tosin was dead. The killer switched off the light in the room and left the same way through the house in which he had come.
Minutes later that night, a text message arrived the phone of the dead girl followed with unanswered calls.
Chapter 1
Jeff paced his room the following morning. He did not only worry for the unanswered calls; he linked it to the fact that Tosin was in another man’s house. The thought of it pained his head. He mused and found the shortest route to his chair in his parlour. He looked at the clock on the wall and the time was six-fifteen am in the morning. On a very good day, he would have been set for work by that time, but this instant was different. He felt load in his muscles and his entire body felt dissuaded. Starting for the day was a struggle, and he wondered why. The jealousy he felt thinned out his stomach, and there was voidness in his belly as one who had never eaten for the first time in one’s life. Could this all be called falling in love or is there more to it? He thought to himself, as he sat on the chair looking up at the ceiling from the roof of his brows. His muscles felt damp from the burden in them, and his face was sodden from worries. A form of fever burnt its way through him and he felt a little sick. He sat for a while and thought, while time ticked by.
He was her boss at the office where he ran an Internet-based consultancy business, with sixty two staff under him. He consulted for businesses on brands and marketing, and there was so much fame attached with him for doing so, for he was in money. Many a time, newsmen came around him for something to break, but particularly he wrote a column for a business newspaper with the brand name Today and Business. Tosin was his secretary and a fine one at that. She was both beautiful and efficient, and Jeff had been tempted severally to woo her. To him, she made an ideal woman for a wife. He felt he would take his time on it, and now he had just made up his mind to tell her how he felt about her. His decision had come slowly on it. All this while, he nursed the idea, but he never intended to be forward about it. But now, his mind was made, so he put calls through to her and followed up with text messages, but no response came. This was quite unlike her.
He had seen her last the previous day, when she had come to work and gone into his office to show courtesy. She had come in that morning with incandescent fair-complexioned plump face. The petals of her upper eyelids were sodden with flesh, and they merely clipped in place. They winged up, when she gazed to the front. Her eyes were sensuous and patches of light grazed on them dreamily. She had a concise pointed nose fitted on and two round reddened lips that waited for a kiss. Her cheeks were plump and pinkish, while a stub of small flesh underneath her lower lip made out her chin.
Her neck was honed of excess flesh and it stood trim. She wore a dark suit onto its skirt combination, and her hips were punctuated out at the back by the curves at their base where they sat on her skirt and sucked it in, while her chest was buxom with the bulbs of her breasts filling out the cups of her bra.
She stepped in on stiletto shoes pricking at the ground and knocking on it shoe sounds. Her hips revolved on the axle of her waist, while she walked into the office, and Jeff’s heart tipped forward. His mouth watered too.
Some girl! He thought to himself. He had taken his time to watch her closely and would decide on what to do anytime soon. He wanted to do it in style and he had engaged the help of his pathologist-psychologist friend who knew the special art of wooing women to get him trained on what things to say to the girl. She would not trip for money or status alone, though they counted; she would trip for the right kind of guy that could offer her love and comfort, but that must have the right things said to her. To her, not everything went. She was selective down to how she was wooed, and Jeff had delayed making the step until this morning. Being well schooled by Doctor Chris, the pathologist and psychologist, he sent her a text message finally that went thus:
‘I hope it is convenient to say that your eyelids tile over your eyes with poise, when the former shut. To me, you are beauty made flesh.’
Jeff (Ignore seeing me as your boss)
He wrote it and waited for her response, but none came. Somehow he felt she would react to it, but she did not for some time, and he decided to call. Yet, she did not pick and the only thing he began to think as at then was that she had gone to another man’s house. This worried him, as he sat on one of the chairs in his parlour. The chairs there had stiletto legs that put out forward as though to scratch at the ground. One of them was a three-seater, while the remaining four were single seaters. A rectangular piece of rug was cut out and placed in the middle of the room with a glass table on it, while the seats surrounded it in somewhat a ‘U’ arrangement. There were side-stools one to each seat. The curtains were writhed to one corner, so light could come in. The light fell on the book shelf placed somewhere at the open end of the ‘U’ arrangement and the books there shone through the glass behind which they had been placed. They were stacked vertically side by side, and a reading table with a small chair attached to it stood some brief distance away from the book shelf. Jeff sat still and thought of what to do next.
Well, life must go on! He thought to himself and got up from the seat to go get started for the day. Work was waiting for him at the office to do. Moreover, he would see her at work and ask her all the questions he would deem necessary for her on what her attitude had been so far towards his text message and calls. He moved over to where he had kept his toothbrush and began with brushing his teeth. In a while, he was done and gone back to the room. On entering into the room, his phone was ringing. This must be Tosin. He felt and his heart did a smile, but on getting to the phone it was some unknown number showing on it. With a little hesitation, he picked it up and connected.
‘Hello? Good morning! Who could this be?’ He said keen about the call. It might be she anyway using another number to call him.
‘Good morning! This is Captain Joseph on the line.’ A man’s voice said and a throat was cleared.
‘Captain Joseph? Why? I don’t think I’m familiar with that name.’ Jeff said, wondering why a captain would be calling him that early, though it was not strange for him to receive calls from clients or would be clients at that time of the morning. It was usual. He cocked his ears and waited for business.
‘I saw your missed calls on the phone of one Miss Tosin Adebayo. That is if I’m talking to Jeff.’ The voice said and waited for Jeff to speak.
‘Yes, I’m Jeff, her boss at the office.’ He said and wondered why the question of the calls had come up. She had never told him she had a fiancé or a boyfriend or something of that nature. Women! He thought and listened.
‘I am calling because I saw you were the last number that called her and sent her a text message. I see you are in love with her.’ The man said.
‘How will that be your business?’ Jeff stirred with anger.
‘I’m afraid the girl is dead.’ The voice said.
‘I don’t get you. Can you please do that line again?’ a current of sweat ran ashore his body.
‘Yes, I found her dead in her apartment this morning. Right now as we speak, she has a bullet hole in her head, lying stone dead on her bed with blood spill everywhere.’ The man said and coughed a little.
Jeff screamed into the phone, ‘But this can’t be!’ then he added, ‘Please wait over there for me; I shall be with you in a moment.’ Just as he turned after the call to get into anything he could lay hands on and get off, he saw Doctor Chris standing in the doorway.
Why the scream? You didn’t even know I was around.
He was dark in complexion and not of much height, though he was not short. He had a long lean face. His eyes were two small nuts that gazed at something with impetus. His nose was lean and pointed and a little bent on its back. His lips were small and were about to pronounce the word ‘meat’. A small stub of flesh under his lower lip formed out his chin.
He wore a black suit and a pair of its trousers whose hems surrounded his black shoes. He equally held