#JazzNightsJupiter: “Gone Girl: Into that Good Night 1-3”

Jazz Nights at Jupiter
the continent’s first-ever crime thriller mini-series based on Agenda 2063

Ep. 12
Gone Girl: Into that Good Night

Soundtrack: “Eden” by Hooverphonic

🔥 Ep.12 – When Mendacity introduces US-trained Belgian profiler Jean-Luc Verhofstadt to the SCU over sponsored drinks at a Jazz night at Jupiter Hotel, everything seems to be going swimmingly till the lights suddenly go off in the hotel. When power resumes minutes later, Maggie is nowhere to be found. Meanwhile, a mysterious intern working nearby at UNECA volunteers information about her disappearance…

Back in the early noughties, and way before his law enforcement training, Mendacity was a regular at Jupiter Hotel. He grew up in a family of jazz lovers, so it wasn’t so much about him being able to play grade 1 12-bar blues as much as being able to recognize a good jazz tune anywhere he went.

The syncopated rhythms often associated with jazz was right up his street: for some reasons no matter how tired he was, a good and spirited jazz tune could help him cohere his thoughts.

So it was always going to be obvious that jazz nights at Jupiter would also be an evening of relaxation and contemplation.

Earlier in the day, Mendacity had sent his driver to pick up from Bole Airport Jean-Luc Verhofstadt – renowned Belgian profiler. Renowned, because if the history books have reported it correctly, it was thanks to his diligence and observation skills that arguably blew the case of Belgian serial killer and paedophile Dutroux wide open in 1996.

A popular British newspaper writing about the Dutroux case at the time explained how “a quick-thinking eyewitness to the abduction of Delhez saw Dutroux’s van and was able to identify parts of the licence plate and report it to the police.” That eye-witness was a teenage Verhofstadt who, after seeing the several miscarriages of justice around the harrowing case, resolved to go into a career of law enforcement that would help fight much of the evil coming out of the Dutroux case in 1996.

A stint studying forensics in the US, including consultancy work in law enforcement, INTERPOL and EUROPOL meant this was a very well-rounded individual who was going to be a major asset to the Special Crimes Unit.

After the pick-up from Bole, the driver took Jean-Luc straight to Radisson Blu Hotel, which was one of the recommended hotels in the Kazanchis area.

It was a long flight from Europe to Addis, which meant Mr Verhofstadt was ready to sleep motŕe than work! So it was welcome news to be meeting the rest of the SCU taskforce – bar Ophelia still recovering – over no less than sponsored drinks.

Mendacity, Maggie; and Jean-Luc all met at agreed time of 7pm when the jazz crew was going to start rolling out those dulcet tunes over good food and drinks.

By 8pm, food had arrived and drinks were in seconds when, suddenly, the lights went off. Power outages were nothing new in Addis. Just that it wasn’t as frequent as other countries on the continent. Everyone was applauding African ingenuity around the Grand Renaissance Dam that these occasional outages were dealt with contempt

But this evening, everything around the entrance of a new team member would leave a sour taste in the mouths of Mendacity’s team.

When the lights returned a few minutes later, all that was left of Maggie were the drinks and food she had just started eating. Her fork had been thrown to the ground, but her spoon was intact. Mendacity instinctively picked up her fork and put it into a makeshift plastic bag.

The speed with which everything happened prompted hotel security to notify local police, while Mendacity did the needful notifying AFRIPOL

On local police’s arrival, the unit was compeľed to be escorted out to a safe place.

No-one was able to sleep, and the day broke too early for the crew.

Mendacity and Jean-Luc headed to a secure area where they were getting ready to interview someone who had rung a hotline number of the taskforce.

He said he was some kind of eyewitness and might be able to give information about the night before.

“Come in. Please sit down”

“Really nice to be here! He exclaimed with youthful exuberance, “I’ve always wanted to see the inside of an interrogation room!”

“I see”, observed Mendacity, “very interesting. Your name is Thomas?”

“Yes, Dylan Thomas.”

“And you’re an intern with UNECA?”

“Yes, that’s why I was nearby that night.”

“Good, we’ll get to that in a minute. First, let me introduce you to my colleague, Jean-Luc Verhofstadt.”

“How is a European working for AFRIPOL?” Dylan asked, almost disappointed.

“Well, Dylan, he’s here on secondment. He has a few questions to ask”

Jean-Luc cleared his baritone voice. “Thank you, Dylan. Thanks for making an effort to come volunteer information to us. I’m curious: how does an intern at UNECA become so passionate about seeing an interrogation room?”

Dylan looked stumped.

“Last time I checked, UNECA is all about anything but crime and law enforcement. Where is this passion coming from?”

He shrugged.

“I hope you’re not going to be wasting our time. We have a lot of cases. What did you actually see that night?”

Mendacity exhaled. “So how long have you been working at UNECA? “

“Just a few months.”

(“How convenient! “)

“What do you mean, Sir? I came to give information and now am under interrogation?”

“But you know that, Dylan. That’s what we do. Don’t take it to heart. We don’t want to waste too much time. You’re not under arrest. We just want to hear from you.”

“OK. Well. I was having a scotch on ice with friends when you guys walked in. I had seen you on TV. So I noticed you easily. I saw you with your colleague , as well.” Dylan said, motioning to Jean-Luc.”

“What did you do next?”

“Well, just as the jazz guys were changing to another number, I saw a hooded guy. Spectacles. Yeah, I think he was wearing what looked like “Ray Ban” shades, I found that odd, cos the place was very well-lit. It always is.

“How are you sure it was “Ray Ban ” shades”?

“I have a pair. It was easy to spot.”

“And, then what happened?”

“I was focused on my friends, but I saw from the corner of my eye he was still standing there…doing nothing in particular. Oh yeah, his hands were in his pocket all the time.”

“You think he was hiding something?

“Maybe. I’m just an intern. How would I know?”

“Alright, Dylan. We appreciate your coming. Here’s my card. Call me if you remember anything else. Before you go…did you hear any unusual noise when the lights went off?”

“Oh no, I’m sorry. I was just focused on lights returning so we could finish our drinks”

Both Jean-Luc and Mendacity got up, thanked and bid farewell to
Dylan, while motioning for uniform to usher him out of the interrogation room.

“So, Jean-Luc. What do you think?”

‘His apparent fixation for seeing inside of an interrogation room was strange. It’s not uncommon for a criminal to partner a “weaker” personality as an accomplice, albeit temporarily, so as to send law enforcement off the scent. A little too early. Let me review the video footage.”

“Uniform will process that. Let’s go eat. “

As the two AFRIPOL defectives left the secured building, they knew their work was cut out: interviews with hotel staff; CCTV footage analysis; and a pot of dark, Ethiopian coffee – the best in the world – to burn the midnight oil.

It had been a long day, yet still no word of Maggie Paxton. No ransom calls. Just dead silence.

Then his phone rang. He half-expected it to be Maggie. It was Verhofstadt.

“Bad news, boss. Dylan Thomas was found badly beaten up behind Jupiter Hotel. Obviously someone or some people didn’t like him talking to the police”.

Mendacity found himself quipping “so much for being the person of interest!”

There was no time to wasté. He knew it was time to speak to someone.

Ep. 13
_ Gone Girl: Into that Good Night 2_

Mendacity had a rough night sleeping. All his attempts to reach his source had proved futile. He tried to resist but there was only one call he had to make.

It was going to be a call that might compromise his integrity as law enforcement, but one that needed to happen if he was going to find Maggie Paxton.

He whipped out his phone, scrolled through to the word “Cousin” and dialed.

It felt forever as the call rang four, then five times. Then “Cousin” picked.

A deep voice came through. “Hello. Who wants to know?”

“Dude”, came Mendacity’s voice, “it’s me. Just keep quiet and meet me at our usual grocery spot near Meskel Square.”

“Got it” , came the voice. Then he hung up.

A call from a ride-hailing app Mendacity had been waiting for came through. Within minutes he was out of his hotel into a car headed to his rendezvous.

Inside the shop, Mendacity feigned looking for groceries while supposedly bumping into the man. As he did so, he slid an envelope into the man’s pocket.

As he left the shop, he walked in the man’s direction to ask a question.”Sir please, can you help me. Am a title lost…”

Triple ErM was effusive with emotion: “Cuz, good to see you after so long. Where have you been?”

Mendacity shook his head. “What took me so long was the promise I made to our Uncle Kwame to train you along the long line of elite vigilantes, and ensure I purge you of your violent proclivities, which goes against every grain and fibre of the tradition. “The One Elite Service” is in the business of disrupting all sorts of injustice SMARTLY. No more punching taxi drivers.You got me?”

Speechless, Triple ErM nodded.

“Great. Activate your feelers in the city. We don’t have much time. I need every nook and cranny combed within this city to find my colleague. In 24 hours tops”

“I hear you, cuz. Consider it done.”

“Hey T!” Mendacity shouted, “I trust you. No traces.”

As they both parted ways, Triple ErM disappeared round the corner with a certain level of swagger and a whole lot of bling.

This was the kind of moment he lived for.

Jazz Nights at Jupiter
the continent’s first-ever crime thriller mini-series based on Agenda 2063

Ep. 14
Gone Girl: Into that Good Night 3 (Rage Against the Dying of the Light)

The gravity of the assault on Dylan had compelled AFRIPOL and local police to admit him into a private hospital somewhere in Addis,

When he came to, he asked to see Mendacity – it was urgent.

With efforts intensified to find Maggie, he wasted no time rushing to the hospital.

“Dylan, you asked to see me. How are you holding up? Are you okay to speak?”

“Yes, Detective. Not too strong, but I wanted to tell you about another important detail. My assault triggered another detail”

“Good, go on”

“I took time to sketch one of my attackers – there were two. Here you go.”, he handed a crumpled-up sketch to Mendacity, who appeared immediately fixated.

“Dylan, you said you had a detail?”

“The guy at the hotel I saw is someone who normally wears specs. They looked medicated. It was just that the bright lights made them look dark because they’re photochromic lens. Also, he had an Adams apple. Prominent one.”

“These are very important details. Thank you, Dylan.”

“I think I want to rest now…” he said, grimacing from body pains.

As he proceeded to head back to base, he instinctively did a mental swoop of the hospital area, wondering whether Dylan’s safety was not at risk

He looked at the sketch again. Then it hit him.

He had seen that face before. It was the “CCTV man” in South Africa! How, he wondered, did he move from Joburg to Addis so soon?

If a week is a long time in politics, how much more so for a criminal!

He had received a message on his pager earlier to expect a call . Then another message from an unregistered number with the message “Thank you for using The One Elite Service”.

He chuckled at the brazenness of it all. But in his heart, he was hopeful for good news.

Then a call came from a hidden number.

“Hotshot cop! You’re a hard man to reach, Mendacity!”

It was a running gag from Maggie Paxton.

Mendacity could finally exhale.

“Not hard enough, apparently! “