Chapter 4 Four

Jayda's POV

The police station stood in a very busy area and was simply put, a sorry sight.

Broken windows, leaking drains, cracked walls and peeling paint greeted me and Daniel. The office behind an outdated front desk who seemed very bored in his world, most especially his job and life walked towards us.

After I narrated everything to him, he sluggishly pointed at a door and we moved towards the door.

I knocked twice and misconstrued a sound we heard as an invitation to enter. We pushed open the door and entered.

The police inspector who had been completely absorbed on his laptop and didn't hear our knock snorted at our rude intention as he quickly shut down the laptop in front of him. "Why are you here?" He asked, irrigation laced his voice.

He listened to us in hostile silence, then muttered with the wave of a hand. "Sit down!"

We sat down on separate seats and fixed our eyes at him.

"Yes?" He bombed again.

I shrugged, noticing how he attended to us in a bad manner and how he enjoyed making us unwelcomed to his office.

"As we said," I resumed. "My car was stolen."

"Cars are stolen every time." He retorted.

"This is my car we're talking about." I stated firmly.

A wry smile plastered on his face and he cleared his throat, fixed us a stare and snapped. "Sweetheart, you're not the first woman to buy a car."

I and Daniel exchanged an uneasy look before we looked back at him. "How can you help us look for the car?" I inquired politely.

"Who gave you the authority to come here?" He barged.

"She's the CEO of a publishing company," Daniel snapped cunningly and picked up a magazine. "In case you don't know, a publishing company sells and distributes books, magazines, newspapers, and digital content. This magazine was reviewed by her company."

The inspector sat up. A publishing company? He shifted uncomfortably in his seat because he knew the power of the media. Just one mention of his bad attitude and gesture on air, and his reputable will be ruined forever

"Look," he said and his voice took a more serious and cooperative tone. "Where was the car stolen?" He asked.

"Wall street." I answered.

He shrugged. "How old is the car?"

I raised an eyebrow in surprise at his question. Was that question really necessary? "Is that necessary?"

"Documentation purpose." He answered rudely and scribbled something on a note.

"I just bought it this morning."

"Model?"

"We're not models." Daniel answered.

The inspector shot us an annoyed look, irritation and anger filled his eyes. "I'm talking about the model of the car." He retorted.

"Ohh, Audi Q3."

"Nice car, I can't even afford it," he complained and grumbled. "We'll work on it."

I narrowed my eyes on him. "Is that the normal procedure?"

He was honestly not going to tell me that he would work on it without any effort. This was not an organization. "Do you know the plate number?" He inquired.

"Huh, I don't know but it ends with 13."

"Good number!" He exclaimed in a sarcastic tone and ran his hands through his hair. "We'll file a copy of your report and file it."

I and Daniel exchanged an uneasy glance again before looking back at him. "And does 'file it' mean something like 'shelved'?" Daniel asked.

That snapped the inspector's last thread of patience. He rose in anger from his seat and looked at us. "Look behind you." He ordered, apparently giving no hoot any more about the media.

We obliged instantly in a daze and while we sorted out what he wanted us to see, he moved and stood in front of us. "Now, look around."

My eyes caught it, one of the drawer of confidential reports was so badly dented that it couldn't shut close. Another handle was missing and the third had a gaping hole where a lock should have been. I knew Daniel also saw it, the lack of resources in his office obviously made me annoyed and less competent.

The table was old and chipped at the edges and covered in scratches. And the leather covering the chair was all torn up. He handed Daniel the phone with a cynical bemusement expression.

After a while, Daniel dropped the phone and whimpered. "It's dead."

"I'm sure you might have noticed the broken windows, cracked walls, leaking drains and bad paint when you came in." He said and sat down.

By now, we had gotten the message and wanted to leave. There was nothing he could do if his resources were less available. "Follow me!" He suddenly ordered and my hope was raised again.

I thought he wanted to help me until he took us outside the police station. "Do you notice anything?" He inquired.

I and Daniel exchanged confused looks. What did he want us to see when there was nothing there. "But there's....."

He cut in. "Look further, you should see something." He pestered.

I fixed an utterly confused stare but couldn't find anything. "There's nothing here, sir." I informed him.

"Nothing here, sir." Daniel wailed.

"Exactly!" He exclaimed with a smirk. "You should have seen something because there is supposed to be something here." He murmured, grinning cynically.

And it hit me.

There was supposed to be a vehicle or van in front of the police station. "A vehicle, where's the police van?"

"We don't have any van, not even a bike," He retorted. When we reached the gate, he asked us a question with a loud voice. "Now, what can I do for you?"

We both looked at the inspector and replied unanimously. "Nothing!"

"I'll see what I can do for you but I'm not promising you anything." He replied and went into his office.

When we both stepped out from the police station, we were both speechless and silence engulfed the arena. I couldn't believe what I had just seen. With no resources, there was no way he could help us.

"Do you believe he'll help us find your car?" He suddenly asked.

I shook my head. "I doubt he will."