A Nigerian Governor was reportedly murdered in New York . The FBI picked me up from Washington and charged me with the murder. Scared to hell, and very close to spending the rest of my life in prison for a crime that I did not commit, I called my trusted friend, Dr. Suzanne Shingles, a retired forensic pathologist whose reputation for looking at dead bodies and seeing what others cannot see, was the stuff of legend....  

My stupid eyes immediately began to embarrass me when they saw the red-hot lipstick, red-hot finger nail polish, red-hot short skirt as tight as a second skin, red-hot blouse hugging her bosom so stringently that the twins on her chest were virtually suffocating. I wasn't sure if it was she or the One Million Dollars the Governor offered me that started my troubles with the FBI. Let me start from the beginning ...

 Let us leave wayo alone, for once, and tell the truth like Ben, my Ijaw friend, who refuses to lie to his wife...

Ronnie, the criminal, efuela ka ogiri furu n’ime ite ofe umu nwanyi (he was lost like ogiri got lost inside the women’s soup pot) because he did not know the proverb that tupu gi egbue dibia n'emere gi ogwu maka ndi iro gi, i kwesiri iche ka ndi iro gi n’ile nwuchaa (before you kill the native doctor who always gave you the medicine to protect you from your enemies, you should wait until all your enemies are dead).