Vicky and the kids head home while Alexander finishes up work. He continues inspecting the stock. Nothing was really burnt; it's just that the stock now smells like smoke and is damaged for sale.
"Let's get all the damaged items, clean them up, and tomorrow we'll give them to the orphanage," Alexander says, writing in his notepad as he instructs his employees at the market.
"Hey, I'm talking to you…" Alexander says, noticing the male employee who was just staring at his own sweatshirt. The employee snaps out of his thoughts and gets to work.
It's not every day your boss comes to inspect with a girl, and now he has an earring stuck on his sweatshirt. Alexander subconsciously looks at his shoulder and finds a very unique earring, crafted in the shape of the letter "P." He recalls how he almost bumped into a lady earlier. He makes a mental note to leave it at the cashier once he's done here. Maybe the lady will return looking for it.
****
"What's so urgent that you texted me? Is Mom okay?" Vicky asks Evan, urgency in her voice, as soon as she arrives home. Evan had gone to visit their mom at the hospital after school.
"Yeah... just this," Evan says, showing a medal to Vicky. Vicky's eyes widen in excitement.
"You won?!" she says, pulling her brother into a warm hug. "Congrats! I knew you would make it," she says, handing him the medal again.
"Well, now I have to apply for the Methalon Competition so I can win a scholarship to college," Evan says, sitting on the couch while Vicky starts preparing dinner.
"How's Mom doing?" Vicky asks, cutting the onions.
"She's doing fine, all things considered. The doctor still insists we make the deposit as soon as possible because her heart is nearly giving up," Evan says as he goes through his school bag and takes out a small money bag.
"Well, he said that last week. I just pray she holds on a little longer," Vicky says as she stirs the meat soup.
Evan takes out some cash. "For Mom's surgery," he says, handing Vicky the money. "It came with the medal. It's N$500. It'll add up to something," Evan says, when Vicky interrupts.
"No," she says, wiping her wet hands behind her back.
"This is your prize money. Keep it for later; you could even use it for a cab ride," she reasons.
"No. Mom needs this more than I do. I make my cab money from delivery, Vicky—" he protests, but Vicky refuses.
Taking money from Evan makes her feel she's not responsible enough. Evan shouldn't have to be responsible for household expenses when he has his own problems. Despite their struggles, Vicky still wants Evan and Emily to have a normal life, one where they can buy anything they want. She doesn't remember much about her teenage life, but she certainly doesn't want to take money from Evan even though they still need a significant sum—N$5 million—for Mom's surgery.
"Evening, guys, what are you cooking?" Saima interrupts out of nowhere. Saima is Tonia's friend, and she only knows Vicky because her eatery is rented next to Saima's salon in the community estate. They aren't close, and this is the first time Saima has come to Vicky's home.
"Um… what are you doing here?" Vicky asks, surprised by her visit. Evan quickly puts the money back in his bag and takes it to his room.
"What, I can't visit my friend?" Saima says, looking around the cramped living-room-kitchen they share. They are poor, and their house is very small and cramped. Vicky's place consists of just two small bedrooms and a living room that is also a kitchen, plus a bathroom. They use public toilets and taps, but at least they have electricity.
"We're not friends," Vicky says, wrapping her arms around her chest, already annoyed by Saima's presence. Saima is a loudmouth and always an inconvenience.
"Your place is nice. It smells good, like spices and soup…" Saima says shamelessly, opening the pot of stew on the stove. But Vicky immediately stops her, shooting her a glare. Saima withdraws, shrugging as if it's just another Tuesday.
"What are you doing here?" Vicky repeats.
"Nothing, I was just visiting my man, John... you know him, right? Your landlord?" Saima says, her tone laced with a warning. Vicky already knows where Saima is heading with this. Saima thinks something is going on between John and Vicky, especially since John kissed Vicky the other day when he was drunk.
"Our landlord," Vicky says, matching Saima's audacious tone. "Choose your next words carefully," she finishes, staring into Saima's eyes. Saima instinctively takes a step back and swallows hard. She knows Vicky's reputation on the street; one wrong sentence and she may as well have a meeting with the meat stew on the stove right now.
"I didn't mean anything... we're good, Victoria," Saima says, raising her hands in surrender.
"That's what I thought," Vicky says, then goes back to her cooking. Saima eventually leaves, and Evan and Emily are in the bedroom watching YouTube videos on Vicky's phone.
****
Late at night in Elder's Casino, a lot is going on. The casino is bustling with people of all kinds. In one section, some are playing dominoes and cards—mostly business people settling contracts and winning bids. In another section is a bar, where girls wearing barely anything—just a thin covering over their private parts—serve customers with bottles crowned with sparklers. There is also a strip area, frequented by youths and other middle-aged men, and yet another section—well—a sex section, where sex workers and those seeking pleasure can be found.
In the sex section, everyone wears a mask because they don't want to be recognized. A tall, muscular man with a broad build enters; he is clad in a black suit with a gold watch and wearing a Batman mask. He walks in with his hands in his pockets, scanning the room. Some sex workers approach him as soon as he enters, but he raises a hand in rejection.
"I'm not here for your disgusting selves," he says, his voice deep and commanding, sending the women away in fear. He spots his target and walks towards him.
A man in his early fifties—well past fifty, with a potbelly and white facial hair—is seated on a sofa being pleasured by a lady while he groans.
"Leave," the middle-aged man hears a familiar voice. The lady, recognizing the man speaking, bolts out.
"I didn't cum. Couldn't you have waited to reach my peak?" the middle-aged man says, sad that this broad man interrupted his business.
"You didn't pay yesterday's service, Detective" the Batman-masked man says.
"Xavier, this is just as much your club as it is mine—" the detective tries to say, but before he can finish, Xavier yanks the middle-aged man's mask off. The man immediately covers his face in shame.
"Are you crazy? You're exposing me?" he says, a hand on his face.
"Let everyone see that their police detective—fighting crime and protecting the nation—is being blown by an underage girl for pleasure," Xavier says, his voice cold. He throws the mask down onto the sofa. Luckily, there are not many people on that sofa, and it faced away from the main sex scenes.
"What do you think your father will say when I tell him about what you're doing? We had an agreement, remember?" the detective says, picking up his mask and putting it back on hastily before anyone notices.
Xavier silently loses his patience. He doesn't like being threatened with his father—and whoever tries never lives to report it to him.
"Do you know what happened to Sergeant Cordy?" Xavier asks as he steps toward the detective.
"I don't care, and I'm not paying shit," the detective says, standing up and heading to the liquor area, visibly irritated.
He planned to unwind after his attempts to catch the serial killer are in vain, because if he doesn't catch the killer first, the killer will catch and kill him—since he perfectly fits the killer's profile; the detective is corrupt. So, yeah, he doesn't care whether Xavier killed Sergeant Cordy; there are more important things on his mind now.
Xavier curses under his breath, feeling disrespected by the detective. He raises a hand, and immediately some men bring out a chair for him to sit. His eyes remain fixed on the detective.
"Drink as much as you can. You have a long way to go tonight," Xavier says, inhaling a long lungful of smoke and exhaling through his nose and mouth, releasing a breath of relaxation.
Suddenly, for a second, the room falls silent as a lady, tall and shapely, walks in. She is adorned in a mini black skirt that reveals her buttocks. She wears a strapless top that barely covers her breasts. Her mask is a net covering only her eyes. From an onlooker's perspective, you can't see her eyes, but she can see everyone. Her lips are glossed in red lipstick that screams "yummy." Her caramel skin is greasy and shiny, looking delicious and ready to be eaten. Seeing everyone holding their breath in her presence, she reveals a grin that clearly reaches her eyes, satisfied by the reaction the men in the room are giving, as they lose interest in their sex activities and eye her.
Xavier is one of the captivated men. It is the first time he has seen such a woman in his club, especially on this side of the sex section; no one usually has access here. He stands up to confront the lady, but then she speaks.
"I was told the best gin was in this section. I'm sorry if I overstepped," she says innocently, her voice as sweet as a lollipop as she takes a seat next to the detective, who is struck by her beauty. He doesn't even need her to remove her mask to see all the beauty she has.
Xavier stops in his tracks and sits; something feels off. He watches the lady carefully through his Batman mask. His men also feel something is off about the lady, especially since she already struck up a conversation with the detective, who is so smitten.
"Boss..." one of the men starts to say, but Xavier signals him to hold on.
The detective smiles, pulling the lady toward an empty sofa bed. The men around suddenly feel jealous. The detective's smile widens as the most stunningly beautiful lady chose only him in the blink of an eye.
"Oh, this is going to feel so great and ease the stress," he says, pulling down his trousers while the lady kneels down to get to work. He winks at Xavier, who seems disgusted by the sight. Even though Xavier runs the club and its sex activities, he still can't get used to seeing sex acts without feeling like throwing up.
The lady starts with a handjob as she rubs the detective's hard member. Then, suddenly, the detective screams. Not in pleasure, but in excruciating agony as he jumps up and doubles over in pain. He can't explain what happened because his member feels like it's on fire, and it starts to swell up. Everyone rushes to see the scene while the lady innocently covers her mouth in shock and fear. She didn't mean to cause him pain—
TWASH!
Blood splatters everywhere around the detective, who now lies lifeless. Everyone is shocked while the lady screams in terror. The scene is gruesome: the detective's member blew off like a bomb through his butt, leaving a hole.
"Well, this is one way to die," Xavier says in shock.
He's killed people and seen people die, but never this way. His eyes land on the lady, and for a second he sees a grin again—this time wide and fulfilled. His eyes narrow in suspicion and follows the lady as she disappears into the crowd.