“Sit down and make yourself comfortable.” Fr. Joe directed Adeola to the soft beanbag in the corner of his room.
“Thank you, Father.” Adeola looked round the room with an expression akin to awe. “Wow! Your room is so fine.” He smiled at the Priest. “I must admit, when you said I could come by, I didn’t think your inner sanctuary would be the meeting point.”
With a strained smile, Fr. Joe stretched a glass of juice towards the boy. “Juice?”
“Yes, please.” Adeola took the glass from Father with a smile. “Thank you. I was so thirsty.”
Scrolling through his phone, Fr. Joe started his recorder and slowly dropped the phone on the table closer to the smiling boy.
“Tell me, Adeola.” Fr. Joe began. “Do you have a crush on Laura?”
The boy snorted, spraying juice over his jeans and the beanbag. He dropped the glass immediately, and started looking around for a napkin.
Fr. Joe waved at him. “No, don’t worry. It’ll dry up soon.”
“Sorry about your cushion Father.”
“No problem.” The Priest reiterated. “Now, answer me.”
“Crush on Laura?” He smiled fondly, as if recalling a memory. “Not anymore. I used to though, but we all know how close she was to Father. She would be so devastated when she wakes up and learns he’s gone.”
Fr. Joe nodded. He wanted to speak again, but he caught a whiff of the strong perfume he had come to associate with Adeola. “Do you wear this perfume often? Maybe, even to confession?”
Adeola had a conspiratorial smile on his face. “It’s not mine actually. It’s Austin’s. Did you know we are now roommates? Anyway, I use it whenever he’s not around or whenever he permits me to.”
“Austin is so worried about Laura too.” He concluded.”
“I’m sure he is.” The Priest sighed in resignation. He hadn’t gotten what he wanted.
“Speaking of crushes though, I used to think Austin had one on Laura.”
The Priest’s ear perked up immediately, making him sit up. “He does?”
Adeola shook his head. “No. I thought he did because he liked her a lot, and a few of us noticed it. It wasn’t until we became roommates that I realized that couldn’t have been the case. He just cared about her differently.”
“How’s that?”
“One day, I was going through his photo album because I was curious. There were no pictures of Austin’s family in his phone gallery. I wanted to know why he rarely snapped with those lovely people. So, in my cause of searching, I came across a picture.”
“Who was in it?”
“It was a woman that looked almost like Aunty Ronke, Laura’s late mum.” Adeola was leaning forward, as he delivered that last tidbit.
“Could that be her?” Fr. Joe’s head was spinning with possibilities and connecting scenarios.
“No, Aunty Ronke babysat me as a kid. I know what she looked like. It was her infamous twin. We the indigenes here know the story of the Adeyemis. We don’t speak of Aunty Ronke’s twin because we don’t want to hurt Grandma, but I knew it was her when I saw that picture. Austin must have known Laura is his cousin.”
Fr. Joe shook his head with a frown. “This makes no sense. Laura can only be Austin’s cousin if one of their parents are siblings. I know Austin’s parents. I was just transferred here, but I know his parents only recently moved away, leaving him behind because of his job.”
“Wait, you didn’t know?” Adeola’s face held a look of surprise.
“Know what?”
“Austin was adopted.”
Fr. Joe’s ears rang and he could feel dread and cold seep into is body, down to the tips of his fingers. “What?”
“It’s a well-known secret for the indigenes. His parents went to the city and adopted him. We were both six years old when they brought him back. Aunty Ronke babysat the two of us back then.”
The Priest stood up immediately, picking up his phone in the process. He unlocked the phone and stopped the recorder, before going to the dial-pad.
“He wouldn’t let me rest about updates on Laura, which was why I was always coming to pester you. Not that I wasn’t curious too, but…”
“Adeola!” Father interrupted. “Where is Austin now?”
“He was going to watch match and stop by the hospital later tonight.”
Putting the phone in his ear, Fr. Joe searched for his car keys and footwear at once. “I think he’s already there.”
Fr. Joe heard nothing; not the pounding of his heart, nor the sounds of feet running towards the transparent doors that shielded Laura from all else. He and Adeola had met Grandma outside the hospital gates. She said she received a call that told her to wait outside for the police, and the poor woman had been waiting since then.
They didn’t hesitate to gather hospital security and run towards the private ward. He needed to save Laura first, he would connect the dots later. When they opened the doors, Austin was there, shocked, but suddenly smiling.
“Ha, Father. I wondered how long it would take for you to piece it all together.”
“How could you?” Fr. Joe shouted, while the security men apprehended Austin. “How could you rape your own cousin and kill your parish Priest?”
“Love knows no bounds.” His smile was hollow and psychotic. “Your boss knew that, isn’t that why he screwed my aunt and she bore him Laura?”
Grandma and Adeola gasped, looking to the Priest to either clarify or debunk the allegation.
Fr. Joe was silent as he brought out the crumpled piece of paper in his pocket. “Unfortunately for you, Fr. Lionel writes down things, so that he wouldn’t forget. He wrote down your encounter here, and explained something you missed.”
“And what might that be, Detective Joe?”
“Ronke was a victim of sexual abuse and she had serious issues with intimacy. She didn’t want to leave this world without a child of her own, so, she propositioned the person she trusted the most for a child, in a way that wouldn’t require intimacy.”
“Artificial insemination.” Adeola whispered.
“Yes, it is against the ethics of the church, and that was why he was willing to take that secret to his grave, but he never broke his vows with your aunt.”
Austin suddenly looked deflated and small. Trying to see beneath his pitiful shield, Fr. Joe ordered the security men to take him away, whist they waited for the police to arrive.
Grandma moved closer to Fr. Joe and sobbed on his shoulder, while Adeola stood there, looking awkward.
“He’s my grandson, isn’t he?” Grandma whispered.
“I’m sorry.” Fr. Joe nodded, while his voice clogged from the tears threatening to run down his face. He felt so helpless.
The poor woman had suffered so much, and it was a wonder she was still alive. He was going to register her for therapy once Laura’s soul showed up again.
“Grandma!” A weak voice called from the bed. “Is that you?”
