Short Story – You Can Run But You Can’t Hide 3 (Final Chapter)

This is a continuation from Part 2- I had to create a sequel because the public insisted I should. If you haven’t read part one I advise you to read it here – You Can Run But You Can’t hide Part 2

I sat on a stool with my face buried in my palm, still finding it hard to believe that Rumbi had come and gone again. It would’ve been better if she never had come along or if she hadn’t made advances on me. I’d still be me and life would go on.

Now I had a reason to pursue her. I wasn’t sure if she still was the woman I wanted but I had the right to father my baby.

You Can Run But You Can't Hide- 3

I assumed she had convinced her husband to leave the city without telling me. She was a crafty woman.

“She probably sensed I would eventually tell him,” I thought.”What if, Chris showed him the pictures and he decided to leave with his wife.”

I didn’t know and Chris maintained that the photographs were destroyed on the day that I asked him to get rid of them.

“Mike, I’d never show those pics to anyone. I’m not a snitch, you know I only wanted booze that day. I wasn’t really gonna show him.”

Well indeed Chris didn’t look like a snitch to me but in such situations you don’t know who to trust. I had started to trust Rumbi again and she screwed me over. Even worse; Makoni had pretended to tell me everything. How come he didn’t tell me of his plans to move? Moving is a premeditated plan, one doesn’t just move out of a house without research and scheming.

My only option then was to go to his workplace and find out if he had been transferred to somewhere else. In the morning I first went to work but decided I would visit his workplace when I got free at lunch. When lunch came I was at his workplace to ask questions about Makoni. It so happened that, they too had questions to ask me.

“So you’re the man Makoni was closest to in this city… tell us what you know,” they asked.

These were 2 detectives in plain clothing and they had taken me to the police station to answer a few questions. I knew one of the guys; he was a regular client at my workplace. His name was William.

After his co-worker had drilled me with questions as if I were a criminal he managed to stop him and play good cop. He told the other cop to leave the room and he explained to me what was going on.

“Michael, I’ve known you since you started working here. I know you innocent. Don’t mind my harsh friend.”

Apparently Makoni was being investigated for fraud over a long period of time. They suspected he had been stealing from the bank. Somehow when they had gotten the last piece of the puzzle together that would lead to his arrest he had left the City a day before and was thought to have been out of Zimbabwe. The police suspected he had an accomplice or someone from the inside who gave him the tip off because his departure was so timely.

I could hear William well, but I certainly had no idea that Makoni was a criminal. This was coming as a surprise to me. It even hit me worse when I thought of how my child would be raised by a thief. They had to find him.

“Look guys, I don’t know the type of information you looking for but I’m willing to tell you everything I know about Makoni and his wife. As long as it helps you find him.”

I sat there and told them stuff about Makoni until a keyword clicked in their minds.- Petronella

“One of the auditors was dating Petronella… he may have got too excited,” William whispered to the other guy, but I heard it.

I told them my situation with Makoni’s wife and after some consideration they decided I would come in handy in the investigation. They gave me bits and pieces of trails they found hoping I could make sense with them. Ordinary civilians are not usually allowed to get such scoops but detectives know that ethics may sometimes keep them from getting the full spectrum.

From what I understood, it seemed like Petronella was bedding a few guys from the inside and when they got drunk they pillow talked all their milestones. The detectives said they thought she fed Makoni the information. Petronella too was said to have disappeared the same day that Makoni left. We assumed she had left Zimbabwe too till she was found dead in a bush near where she lived.

Neighbours said she seemed to have had a fight with a lover that night. They hadn’t paid attention because she regularly had fights with the many men she brought in.

Makoni had indeed crossed the South African boarder but finding him in that country was feeling like looking for a needle in a haystack.

I felt sorry for Rumbi. She didn’t have to marry a murderer and thief. She didn’t have to live that life. Now she was probably somewhere in South Africa, carrying my child with a fake ID. Rumbi could have kicked a slow ordinary safe life with me and we’d have taken care of our child.

The case got frustrating for the police and in fact as soon as they thought he was in South Africa they seem to have just thrown the docket under some pile. New cases had come up. I don’t know, there just were no new updates.

Several months had gone by, I was losing hope. All I could do was pray that Rumbi and my child were in safe hands.

Patrick my friend, who happened to live in South Africa texted me one day that he had seen someone whom he was convinced was Rumbi. According to him she didn’t look happy and she had a baby and was with a certain man. They didn’t seem to be in talking terms.

Patrick worked at a South African surgery and someone who looked like Rumbi had come for there under the name Sandra Makhosi. Rumbi had never seen Patrick before but I had shown Patrick many of her pictures via Whatsapp. He was convinced it was her and since she had filled forms at the reception, he managed to get her address and phone number.

Look alike or not. I was in Johannesburg as soon as I could. Patrick received me at the airport and took me to his house.  After I told him in depth what had transpired in Zimbabwe, he immediately decided we should drive to the house. He armed himself with a gun because of the criminal history of Makoni.

When we got there we saw police and people gathered around that house. I immediately stepped out of the car to find out what was wrong. Had something happened to Rumbi?

Not at all.

In fact something had happened to Makoni. Rumbi had stabbed him with a kitchen knife during a fight about the paternity of the child. Somehow Makoni had found out that I had been involved with his wife, up to now I don’t know how. This is why they had visited the hospital. They had gone for a private paternity test.

However, according to test results Makoni was indeed the father of the boy and by law Rumbidzai was going to jail for the murder of Desmond Makoni. She was also being trialled for possessing a bogus identity.

So I was not the father after-all. It seems I traveled all the way from Zimbabwe to watch karma do her job. Even if I wanted Rumbi; I had to finally let her go.

What-ever wrong you do to others, it comes back ten-fold. You can run , but you can’t hide.


P.S I will be releasing a full novel soon based on a different story. It will be titled “Hold You Down” – Please talk about this on Social Media and Share this post.

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