Peter Abel saves life of Party Chairman’s Wife in London

Peter Abel saves life of Party Chairman’s Wife in London

 

It could have been what some people call the hand of God; others might insist it was blind luck or fate. But whatever the reason, Millie dropped her house keys just as the assassin squeezed the trigger. She bent down to pick them up, and the bullet tore into the back of her left shoulder, ripped through her body and punched through her right hand.

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Millie fell to the ground from the concussion and shock. Abel, trailing her by twenty yards, bolted toward her looking up over his shoulder, trying to spot the shooter.

Up in his perch on the roof, the assassin couldn’t take a chance that his target had survived the first shot. He took aim again, Millie still very much in the open and vulnerable.

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At the same moment, the two bodyguards who trailed Abel, experienced in this kind of work, immediately figured the shot had come from above and behind Millie. They dashed into the middle of the street and scanned the rooflines.

They spotted the assassin and fired their Glocks at him, a hopeless distance for handgun rounds to have certain accuracy. Yet the bullets ricocheted off the masonry around the gunman, close enough that he couldn’t chance one of the detectives getting off a lucky shot. He was forced to retreat. One of the bodyguards ran up the stairs of the building, calling for backup on his police radio.

As this chain of events was unfolding, Abel had reached Millie and moved her behind the cover of an old Bentley. She was conscious, in pain and bleeding from her shoulder and hand. Abel couldn’t tell how badly she’d been hit.

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“Oh, God, Peter. What happened?”

“Don’t talk, Millie. Just stay quiet.” Abel put his hand over the spot on her shoulder where the bullet had entered. “You’ve been shot.”

Millie looked at Abel, confused, as if she couldn’t process the information. “Shot? Why?”

Abel could easily guess, but didn’t think this was the time to tell Millie her husband had hired someone to kill her for betraying him. He just brushed her hair from in front of her face and told her to be still. The second bodyguard arrived.

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“I’ve called for an ambulance. How is she?”

“In shock,” Abel said.

The bodyguard kneeled, taking off his coat in the process. He elevated Millie’s feet, placing them on Abel’s knees and covered her with his coat. He told Abel to keep pressure on Millie’s bleeding shoulder until the medics arrived.

 

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Somewhere across the neighbourhood, the other bodyguard was standing alone in frustration looking down a street full of vehicle and foot traffic. He stared at the pedestrians, trying to spot someone acting oddly, in a hurry, or otherwise out of place. But he knew it was hopeless, since the shooter was no doubt a pro, one of those people know how to blend into a crowd.

 

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Abel rode with Millie in the ambulance as they raced through the London streets. The medics determined the bullet had not struck any vital organs and said they thought her wound wasn’t life threatening. Their main concern was that Millie was suffering from shock and needed to get to a hospital as soon as possible.

Millie held Abel’s hand and began to cry. “It’s okay, Millie,” he told her, trying to sound reassuring. “You’re going to be alright.”

“Peter. It was me who got you out of that desert prison. You know that.”

“Yes, I do. And I owe you my life.”

“I think Timo knows it was me. My God, would he really do this?”

Abel had no idea how to respond. He believed Tiko was perfectly capable of this, but what could he tell her? “We’ll talk about that later. For now, close your eyes and try to rest.”

Once they got to the hospital, Abel stayed with Millie until the doctors took her away to surgery. As he turned, he found Inspector Clarke approaching. Abel moved to him, angry. “Think it’s time to bring her in? Or maybe you want to keep the traps going, see if her husband calls to find out how she’s doing? Never know what he might say.”

“I’m sorry, old man. Regrettable occurrence.”

“Regrettable? She almost died!” Abel was furious.

Clarke took Abel by the arm and led him away to a private area. “Look, we’re putting out the word that she did die. For her own protection. And not to alarm Tiko. They’re in agreement. If he thinks his wife is dead, he won’t try to cover his tracks. I’m sure she’ll tell us what she knows now, and when she does, your people can move against him.”

Abel saw the logic and nodded. “What about her children? Tiko will want them to return home.”

“Of course. They’re in protective custody. We’ll delay their return to Nigeria by creating some immigration issue. The Nigerian Embassy is cooperating. They’ll of course be told their mother is alive and well. Once she can talk, we’ll get a statement and be on our way. Good job.”

“I don’t think it was such a good job. It’s a miracle she wasn’t killed.”

“Miracles are all part of the game, old man.”

This didn’t make Abel feel any better. He had hoped the police depended on good, smart work and sound decision-making. Reporters depended on miracles.

 

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Timo Tiko’s sources told him the assassin had only wounded Millie, but a later report confirmed she had died at the hospital. A relieved Tiko celebrated with a shot of whiskey. He began to relax. One big problem out of the way. His wife could have brought him down. He hadn’t told her much, but she knew enough to point the police in the right direction.

But just as one problem was solved, another raised its ugly head. Through intermediaries in London, he’d bribed a bank president to give him access to Huud’s accounts. He found that they had been emptied a few days before, every shilling of the £10.5 million gone. And it had been wired to him in Lagos, so Tiko assumed the man was not in England.

This presented Tiko with a huge problem. He had planned on funnelling at least some of that money to Rika to add to what she already had, then letting her know she had been exposed. He planned to tell her he expected her full cooperation, or he’d lead government auditors right to her doorstep. But with the money gone, there was no way to do that. Rika would now be uncontrollable. She’d have no reason to hold back and would, in fact, have every reason to expose Tiko to prosecution. With him out of the way, Rika would fill the power vacuum. She’d be running the state inside of a year.

Tiko made a decision that he hoped would stall her until he had a chance to get things under control. He took one million pounds of his own money and put it into a cashier’s check in Rika’s name. It was in the form of a donation from a dummy charity, which he and Huud used occasionally to launder money.

Rika entered his office, a look of expectation on her face. “Did you find Gorem’s money?”

“Some of it. He hid his accounts more cleverly than I’d expected. I did find one and emptied it.” Tiko handed Rika the check. “One million pounds. For now. More when I find the rest. And I will. Be patient.”

“This is untraceable?”

“Of course. It’s a charity front we use.”

Rika nodded, satisfied. Timo put an arm around her and kissed her neck. “Now, how about a reward.”

Rika smiled and immediately shrugged out of her dress. As Tiko began kissing her she closed her eyes and moaned, and Tiko knew he had side-stepped a landmine. It was only a matter of time before he found a way to rid himself of this unpredictable, wild, crazy woman. But for now, he’d enjoy her company. In truth, she was the best lover he’d ever had. It was a shame he’d have to kill her, too. He was going through women at an alarming rate. On the other hand, he told himself as he and Rika moved to the couch to finish their lovemaking, there are always women willing to attach themselves to powerful men.

 

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In a London hospital, under guard and an assumed name, Millie rested comfortably. In the twenty-four hours since she had been shot, she had grown somewhat stronger. But that was the physical part of her injury. The mental and emotional anguish would take a good deal longer to heal. At the moment, they were evidencing themselves as anger.

Abel visited her alone as Inspector Clarke waited outside with an official stenographer, who would take her statement when she was ready.

“We need you to tell us what you know about Timo’s activities, Millie. I understand how hard this is…”

Millie raised her hand to stop him. “It’s not hard at all, Peter. I was in London because I never wanted to see Timo again. I believed him all these years. I was a fool. I’ll do anything you want.”

Millie’s eyes filled with tears and Abel held her hand. “I’m sorry, Millie.” Abel said.

He called in Clarke and his group and they began to question Millie, writing down everything she said. She tried to remember every detail of Tiko’s operation, things she’d seen, names she’d heard, banks where he might have hidden stolen funds.

Two hours later, when they left the room, Clarke turned to Abel. “The MET will get this to the EFCC to speak with the Nigerian authorities. And I’ll start serving warrants to London bankers. I hope you are comfortable with that?”

Abel nodded. He was happy to think that Tiko was about to be taken down, but he felt a terrible sadness for Millie, whose heart was clearly broken.

 

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That night, Abel boarded a Virgin Atlantic flight and returned to Lagos. He wanted to be in Bammak City when they arrested Timo Tiko and Governor Huud. He had called ahead and updated Chief Benson, and told him that he was already working on the story that would bring down the government in Tinnaka State.

 

 

 

 

 

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