Motun swerved in her revolving chair and tapped her forehead with a pen in frustration.

The only lead she thought she had was a dead end and she even felt pathetic after the visit. Ernest Ezerika was not the killer, he was just a poor forty-something year old man who resolved to making friends with people to fill the void created by his wife who abandoned him and had been unfortunate that four of those people were ruthlessly murdered. To clear all reasonable doubts, she had asked Nicholas to check Ernest’s alibi and truly, his church held a monthly fellowship with the highest number of invitees coming from Ernest.

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