The meeting room at Nairobi County Police Station was spacious and well-lit. An oval table was placed in the center, surrounded by a set of wooden chairs. It was evident that the room could accommodate more than ten officers.

Sandy Muiru was seated on one of the chairs, while Officer Michael Tanui was sitting across from her, jotting down something in a small notebook. Sandy had noticed that Michael did not seem pleased with her presence. A while back, Sandy had overheard his conversation with Preston. She had not meant to eavesdrop. Michael had made it clear he was against the decision of her being part of the investigation.

Unlike Sandy and Michael, Preston was standing. Arms akimbo, eyes glued on the crime board in front of them.

"There's a lot of question marks," he said.

Sandy stared at the crime board. The heading on top was in bold letters: DIANE RUCHO MURDER MYSTERY.

On the crime board, there was a photograph of Diane pinned onto the white foam. Beneath the photo was a pink sticky note with a few notes about her: nineteen years of age, worked as a waitress at Arttcafe, victim, gunshot to the head, body found at her home. The board also had several profile cards, the first of which had a photo of a middle-aged man with his face circled and a question mark. The sticky note beneath it read Gary Wako. The second profile card had an outline of a person with a question mark and was labeled as a suspect. The third profile card was empty except for a large question mark. The sticky note read 'flash drive'. Sandy pushed this little nugget of information to the back of her mind. She would later have to find out what the flash drive was all about.

Sandy noticed Google Maps being used on the crime board to show locations of key interest in the investigation. There were three locations circled on the map: Diane Rucho's residence (Tassia Estate), Nairobi Hospital, and Arttcafe (Tassia Branch). The roads leading to these locations were highlighted in green marker pen.

Sandy gazed at the board and realized that Preston was correct - there were many question marks.

Michael inquired why the case wasn't solved earlier.

Sandy could recall that the murder had occurred a decade ago, it was surprising that the case was still open.

Preston turned away from the board, dragged a chair, and took a seat. "That's because no evidence was found to link any suspect," he replied.

"What about the gun used in the murder?" Michael asked.

"A GSR examination was conducted, but there was a negative outcome. No distinctive chemicals were found at the crime scene," Preston answered.

Sandy remembered from her criminal procedures classes that GSR signified Gunshot Residue.

"What about spent cartridges?" Michael inquired.

"None were found."

"So, our suspect had enough time to clean up the place. It seems like we're looking for someone who has a good understanding of police work," Sandy remarked.

"The murder was probably premeditated," Preston added. "I'll have Dan re-examine the GSR examination. The technology today is much better than it was ten years ago. Hopefully, he'll find something useful."

There was a beat of silence before Preston added, "We know so far Gary's involvement in the case. First, he was seen in the hospital with Diane Rucho a day before her murder, and second, his possession of a flash drive that is crucial in the investigation. We need to know how he is connected to her. Were they acquainted? And what does it have to do with the murder?"

Michael suddenly asked, "Why was Diane at the hospital?"

Preston recalled that after Mercy Muthoni, the woman who claimed to have seen Diane Rucho at Nairobi Hospital, had come forward, he and Officer Edward went to the hospital and interviewed the nurse who had treated Diane Rucho. During the interview, the nurse revealed the identity of the man who had been with Diane Rucho.

"She was brought in unconscious by Gary Wako. Apparent assault," Preston replied.

"Was she assaulted by Gary?" Michael asked.

"No. The nurse we spoke to–Trizah Wangui–claimed that Diane had mentioned it was Gary who found her unresponsive by the roadside and brought her to the hospital."

Michael couldn't understand why Gary had kept this a secret from him.

"Did you believe the nurse?" asked Michael.

"At the time, yes. But now, I'm not so sure," Preston replied, his doubts beginning to surface.

Sandy didn't believe in coincidences. Assault. Murder.

She said, "The assault could be related to the murder. Think about the time frame. Barely a day later and she's shot."

Preston looked at Sandy. She noticed that Preston was surprised. His eyes sparkled. "That's what we need to find out. Michael, can you track Diane's movements up to the point when she was taken to the hospital? We need to figure out who she met with that day."

Michael nodded. "I'm on it."

As Michael was about to get up, Sandy asked him, "What was stolen during the burglary at my home?"

Michael met Preston's gaze and quickly understood that Sandy had already guessed. "Nothing was taken."

He hoped she had no idea about her father's accident - murder.

**********

Sandy sat between her mother Tricia and her aunt Harriet Muiru on a plush grey sofa right after dinner. The curtains had been drawn, the lights in the living room were switched off, and a comedy film was playing on the large TV screen. Harriet insisted that everyone deserved a break, and a good laugh would be therapeutic.

Squashed between the two like an unrelenting piece of beef between two slices of bread, Sandy wondered whose idea it was to have her in the middle, especially on a hot night effort would have been much appreciated had it been on a cold night.

As Harriet changed the TV channel after the movie ended, Sandy turned toward her mother and asked, "Did Dad ever talk to you about his cases?"

Tricia faced her, her brown eyes reflecting the bright lights from the TV. Sandy noted she appeared suddenly puzzled. "No, he never talked about his work. Why are you asking?"

"Just curious."

"Your father never talked about his cases. And you too shouldn't be asking about them either."

"Okay," Sandy said.

Tricia clasped her hands gently. "I'm heading to my room. Goodnight." She stood and walked away, the floorboards creaking under her footsteps.

Sandy felt an awful sense of guilt creep into her bones.

Minutes later, Sandy knocked on her mother's bedroom door. She wanted, needed to tell her that she was part of the team that was investigating her father's last case. When there was no response, she quietly opened the door and called out, "Mother?"

She heard water running in the bathroom. Her mother was probably bathing.

As Sandy was about to leave the room and close the door behind her, she noticed that the top drawer of the small cabinet next to the bed was left open. She walked towards it, intending to close it, but something caught her attention. She stopped and pulled out a photo from the drawer. The moment she looked at it, her eyes widened, her hands shook, and her legs felt wobbly like cooked noodles.

When she heard the bathroom door open, she asked, holding up the photo, "Who is this?

"That's your father's mistress."