''We are home!'' Jason exclaimed, as he drove off a busy motorway
into a side street. We emerged into an enchanting neighbourhood and parked in
front of an imposing red-and-white building. Jason switched off the car’s engine.
''We are home!'' he said again, to the only passenger in
the car, seated next to him in the dark blue Citroën. ''It's nice to be home
again, don't you think?''
Jason didn't expect any response from the passenger, who
happened to be me. I didn't respond, buried in my own thoughts.
''Come on, Danny, come on. We are home and we are starving.
The good news is, a freshly cooked lunch's waiting for us. Jane prepared one of
your favourite meals. Let’s move.''
''Go ahead,'' I finally told Jason. ''I need a few minutes
Jason opened the car's door and stepped out. I watched him
walk away until he disappeared into the magnificent building. He was such a
nice bloke - my best pal, who'd always been there for me and particularly when
trouble knocked at my door two years ago. It's been two long years since I
visited Jason and his family in this lovely neighbourhood.
I looked around, as a few cars drove by. The leafless trees
looked dead in the aftermath of winter. Springtime. Dozens of beautiful flowers
were springing everywhere. Spring had always been my best period of the year -
full of life and beauty and happiness. Not anymore. Not when I left prison having
served time for a crime I didn't commit. Not when I knew nothing of the whereabouts
of my adorable wife and two kids- my own flesh and blood.
My goal in life had always been to pursue happiness. And
yes, I pursued happiness and became happy. With the best education and job,
living in an amazing home and crime-free neighbourhood, a wonderful family -an
amazing wife and two lovely kids, Bryan and Brenda, I felt we were living the
best life on earth. People admired us. Many envied the relationship my wife and
I enjoyed which endured so many years after our marriage. We enjoyed that union
until two years ago, when my darling wife started chatting on Facebook with a
man, a Danish man whom she met at work.
When you are with someone for a long time, like I had been
with my wife, you are quick to notice changes, either big or small. I noticed
when she started talking with someone. At first, this wasn't cause for alarm
and I told myself - even assured myself not to worry and that the most
important thing was that my wife and I loved each other. Unfortunately, the
relationship persisted and things got worse! My wife soon found chatting with
this man more interesting than some of the things we valued and shared for all
those years such as our frequent kisses, our late night or early morning
cuddling and our closeness. The atmosphere in our home became tense and my wife
felt to me a stranger. Simple phrases such as ''I love you'', ''how are you
today'' became history.
I finally decided to act and rescue our marriage when our
two kids got caught up in this state of affairs. Many times, she told me to
pick up the children from school on her behalf giving flimsy excuses why she
couldn't. Other times the school called to inform me the children were still in
school well closing time. We ate late when my wife cooked. The children began
looking shabby and unkempt. When I talked to her about these, she dismissed my
remarks as trivial and things kept on getting worse.
I am one of those guys who believe in marriage, the need for a strong and
stable family. I knew when my marriage started suffering, when my family started
crumbling. I could not fold my arms any longer, sit and watch the worse set in.
I needed to act, before it was too late.
My wife's most important possession was now her phone. For
the first time since we met, she changed her password and kept it from me. I
resolved I needed access. She had been on the phone for hours that Thursday
evening and only fell asleep quite exhausted in the early hours of Friday.
That's when I had my opportunity. I picked up the phone and tiptoed out of the
bedroom, locked myself in the rest room and tried accessing her phone. I
cracked her password after a few tries. Her password? Her birthday and 321 at
the end. I opened Facebook Messenger and voila!
A Danish name - Lars Kosh Mortensen, stood at the top of her chatting list. I
opened their conversation and scrolled to the very beginning. Their chats
started almost three months ago. Their conversations were mostly in Danish.
After staying in Denmark for over a decade, my wife and I were fluent in
Danish. Kosh had initiated the conversations:
He did not understand why his wife spent countless hours on the phone with another man
Kosh: Thank you for accepting my friend request on
She: Thanks for inviting me.
That was all for the first day. They resumed a week later.
Kosh: Hej. Been a while.
She: Yes, it was such a busy week.
Kosh: Right. How are you?
She: Good. Well, not so good. I am tired.
Kosh: Want to chat?
She: Maybe, but not for long.
Kosh: Great. Don't know why but since I met you, I can't get
you out of my mind.
She: Aren't you married?
Kosh: Does that matter? Does marriage prevent someone from
feeling for another?
She: No, but...
Kosh: Well, no. I am not married. I live alone in this
bungalow of mine. I am lonely most of the time.
She: No girlfriend?
Kosh: None. What about you? Married?
Kosh sent a surprised emoticon.
She: Why are you surprised?
Kosh: A girl like you shouldn't be kept under one's
control. You should be a free 'spirit'!
She: You must be joking.
Kosh: I am not.
She: Are you happy living alone?
Kosh: Yes and no. I don't feel happy being alone all the
time and yes, it's so cool being on your own.
I kept reading for close to two hours. Their conversations
in three months could produce a book. The chatting became intense as the days
passed by. I retrieved a number from the conversations, which my wife saved in
her phone as WC1. With luck, I also got an address, which Kosh sent to my wife.
The address preceded an invitation to his place. I tried to find if my wife had
visited, but couldn’t. Their most recent outing though was packed full of
intimacy. My wife had become too trusting, free and bold that she said things
she could never easily have said to me. She discussed a few family issues,
which ought to have been kept private. She even mentioned the size of my
manhood and challenged Kosh whether his was big enough to give her as much satisfaction
as she derived from her African man, to which Kosh replied there was only one
way she could find out!
At a certain time, she complained about my nonchalant
attitude towards her and that I am away most of the time. His frequent referral
to my wife as ''min smukt og digligt piger'' angered me.
I returned her phone and went to bed, anger building up in me. I did not sleep.
Instead, I pondered, for the rest of the night, on a plan to stop this romance before
it got out of hand.
Friday evening. My wife returned from work to an empty and
boring house. The fridges were all empty - nothing to eat. She dropped her bag
on the bed and stepped out again, heading off to the supermarket.
We were barely on speaking terms. She was angry I had talked
bitterly to her about leaving the children in school and not caring much
anymore. She accused me of overreacting and trying to capitalise on a problem
that did not exist.
I sent the children to the living room and picked up her
phone, again. I unlocked it and went to Facebook Messenger. Kosh had written.
Kosh: Hi sweet-heart. Hi Sweetie - are you there?
No reply from my wife. He was typing again.
Kosh: Are you there, Smukt peger?
I decided to respond.
Me: Yes. I am. Sorry I was away. How are you?
Kosh: Great. What's your plan for tonight? Friday, you
Me: Chilling at home with my beautiful family.
Kosh: Oh, I am jealous.
Kosh sent a sad emoticon.
Me: Are you? Ok, can I come over to your apartment?
Kosh: Are you serious?
Kosh: That would be great!
Me: I guess so.
Kosh: What time?
Me: It takes 30 minutes to reach your place. Snowing, which
means it will take longer to drive.
Kosh: No problem. Waiting. Please, don't fail to come.
Me: Believe me, I won't.
I did not want my wife to know I was on the phone with
Kosh. I didn't want her to talk to Kosh either, before our meeting. I wanted to
see Kosh in person, confront him face to face, man to man and talk to him
about my beautiful family and how I do not want him to destroy what we enjoy as
husband and wife - to destroy what I spent so many years to build. He would
stay away from my wife - at best advise her to value what she possessed. So, I
turned off Madam's phone and pushed it under the bed. She won't find it for a
while and won't be able to receive any calls, until I returned.
When she came back from the supermarket, I dashed out and locked the door
behind me. A few minutes later, I sped out of the parking lot in Glostrup -
a few minutes away from the railway station - my destination Lyngby, a Danish
Municipality located in the northern suburbs of Copenhagen.
It was 16:30, but darkness had descended over the land. The
darkness was further compounded by low clouds and heavy snowfall.
Kosh lived in one of the buildings at Toftebaeksvej, a few
metres away from the Lyngby Store Centre. I drove for fifty minutes because of
the heavy snow and poor visibility. I left my car in the parking lot adjacent
the building. When I approached the main door, someone was leaving the
building. I hurried inside and so didn't have to ring Kosh to grant me access
into the building.
Kosh lived on the third floor. I rang the bell of his
apartment and moved aside. I didn't want him to see me and maybe refuse to open
''Is that you, sweetheart?'' he asked, excited, as he opened the door. To his
greatest surprise and chagrin, I forced myself in.
''Hej Kosh, it’s me instead - your girlfriend’s husband!''
''We don't have an appointment. You were not invited.''
''I know.'' I stared at him into his eyes. Kosh was above
average height, but I was a few inches taller than him. At 49, he was eleven
years older than me.
''It was you on the phone, wasn't it?''
''You didn't harass her, did you? Where is her phone?''
''I don't harass women. And about the phone, not any of
I looked around his apartment. It was such a beautiful
place - cozier than mine, large and classic, with expensive sofas, chairs,
white exotic carpets and the latest, biggest model of Samsung Smart TV covering
a cross section of the wall in his living room.
A Nigerian love song by Flavour was playing. I mentally
noted it was one of my wife's favourite songs. Kosh had set up everything perfectly
- the mood, the table had two candles lit and a red rose at the centre of it.
There were also two golden Chinese coffee cups, a strikingly colourful coffee
jar and a place for two at opposite ends of the table. It was a cozy, lovely
atmosphere at the apartment and I was taken aback - even remembered those old
days between my wife and I.
''All these for my wife'' I asked. He didn't answer.
''Tell me, have you laid your hands on her? Have you
touched her - kissed her even or is this - this setup, just for courtship? Are
you still trying to worm your way into her life?''
''Why don't you ask her? You must leave. You are not welcome here.''
''I am not leaving
until I get what I want,'' I told him.
''And what do you want?''
''I want us, Kosh, to reach an agreement. I love my wife.
She loves me too. We've had a wonderful life for so many years. Recently,
things changed and I found out you are the cause. That's why I am here. I love
my family and I don't want us to split. We have kids. We are bringing them up
in the best way we can. I don't want them to suffer. I want you to stay away
from my family. I want you to tell her to stay away from you, for her own good.
Tell her to value what she has.''
''Why don't you tell her that?''
''There is a reason I came to you first.''
''Well, talk to your wife...''
''I read your conversations with her and realised you are
the one making the efforts...''
''Look, Mr, I didn't invite you here and I don't have to entertain your
''Ramblings? My ramblings, you say! You don't get it, right? This is just a piece
of advice. You see Kosh, the world is made up of almost eight billion people.
More than half of that population are women. More than half of those women are
single. Most of them are actively looking for a partner. You won't go far to
find one who loves and cherishes you. In the meantime, stay away from my
''Get out. Just get out, before I call the cops on you.
Don't ever come back. You will regret if you do.''
''I get it. I hope I won't come back, because you won't
like it if I do,'' I told him as I walked to the door.
''And please, give this to your so-called wife!'' He
retrieved a headscarf from the sofa and threw it at me. ''She left it the
last time she visited.'' I looked at the scarf. Yes, it belonged to my wife. It
was a huge provocation from Kosh and I clasped my fists, ready to punch him on
the face. He walked passed me and opened the door. But lo and behold, I saw the
barrel of a gun, held by someone, as he slowly walked into the apartment.
''Hi Kosh, been so long. Remember me? I promised to return.
I told you that when I do, you won't have time to run your mouth again - that
you won't have time to explain that there is no law in Denmark that prohibits
eh...what did you say last time? Well, never mind. Been such a long time, but I
came, Kosh, I came.''
Kosh raised his hands. But the unexpected guest shot once
at him, right on the forehead. Kosh fell. Blood started oozing from his
forehead into the thick white carpet. The guy turned the gun at me. Then he
smiled and turned away, towards the door, satisfied and left. Shocked, I bent
down and checked on Kosh. He was dead. Shit! I pulled out my phone and dialled
112. It rang once, but I stopped the call. Without second thoughts, I ran out
of the apartment, down the stairs and into my car. I drove straight home.
Kosh raised his hands. But the unexpected guest shot once at him, right on the forehead. Kosh fell. Blood started oozing from his forehead into the thick white carpet. The guy turned the gun at me...
I got home and dropped the headscarf on a chair in the
living room and sat down. My two children ran to me as always and for the first
time in my life, I shoved them aside. I placed my hands on my face and felt
like a looser. When I lifted up my face, my wife was standing there, the
headscarf in her hands. More important issues were on my mind.
suspiciously stared at me and took the scarf into the room, without uttering a
I rang my friend Jason. He didn't pick his call.
I turned on the telly. 7:00pm. News time on TV2 Channel.
Breaking story underway!
''A Danish man has been shot dead in his
apartment at Toftebaeksvej, in Lyngby Municipality. Neighbours are advised to
stay indoors. No reason has been advanced for this shooting. Police are
optimistic the perpetrator would be brought to justice as soon as possible.
Stay tuned for updates.''
My wife joined me to watch the news. She looked at me and I
looked away. I left the living room and sought refuge in the bedroom. I
continuously stared at the ceiling - my thoughts racing.
I'd panicked. Why did I do that? Why did I not complete my
112 call to the police? Why didn't I wait for the men in uniform to arrive the
crime scene? Why escape instead, for God's sake? I didn't kill Kosh. Regardless
of his fling with my wife, killing him did not cross my mind. I didn't kill
him. Someone had and I didn't know why.
But I went there. I'd chatted with Kosh and arranged the
meeting. At that moment, it occurred to me that I had not used my phone. I had
used my wife's phone. I remembered switching it off and pushing it under the
bed. I reached under the bed and pulled it out, switched it on and went
directly to Facebook Messenger. She'd received more messages from Kosh and more
than 20 calls, which, of course no one answered. Just then my wife walked into
''Where did you get that from? I've been looking for it
since 5:00pm. Were you keeping it? Give it back to me!''
She descended on me and pulled her phone away, her hands
shaking and she hungrily checked on her messages and started crying.
''Did you do anything?''
''What do you mean?''
''Did you murder him?''
''Don't play with me. Did you kill Lars Kosh Motensen? He
is dead. Investigators just confirmed his name. He was shot on the head. They
just made the update on the television. Before you ask questions, let me
provide some answers. Yes, I was chatting with him. I visited him once. That's
where I left my scarf - the one you brought home. I was just excited. That's
all. But should you kill him because of that? Should you? Why? Why? Why?
Murder? Why? I am calling the police. I am.'' She cried hysterically and pounced
on me, punching and scratching.
''Do I look like a murderer?'' I asked her, stricken.
''I don't know you anymore. You ended his life! First, you
hacked into my phone. Then you sent him messages - you pretended to be me. You
arranged a meeting. He opened his door for you. Now he is dead and you are on
the run. You ran from the scene. How long do you think you can run? I am
calling the Police!''
''I didn't do anything to him. Do I look like a killer?''
''I don't know what a murderer looks like. How then did it
happen, if you didn't?''
''The past three months have not been easy for me, yes -
for us. I've called your attention to your behaviour, but you won't listen. I
wanted things to become normal again. I wanted to have my family back- to have
you. When you slept last night, I got into your phone...''
''No. You hacked into my phone!''
''Ok. I hacked into your phone...''
''And pretended to be me. You used my account to chat with
him. You arranged a meeting with him!''
''Yes and he was so pleased that you will abandon your
family on a cold, dark evening and spend it with him!'' I snapped.
She didn't say anything.
''When I arrived his place, everything was set. He
envisaged such a romantic evening between you two! Roses, candles, wine, exotic
glasses and cups. I was embarrassed. I told him I loved you and didn't want to
lose you. I told him to look elsewhere and not worm his way into your life
anymore. He refused to listen...''
''You dealt with him because he refused to listen?''
''No. I am not a killer. I was about to leave, although I
wanted to punch him so badly when he threw your scarf at me - the one you
forgot at his place! It appeared he already had another score to settle with
someone else. The guy shot him right in front of me and felt great about it. He
even pointed the gun at me.''
'' Do you want me to believe you? Why did you run? Why
didn't you call the cops?”
''Ok. Call the cops and hand yourself in!'' she demanded.
I didn't have to. Someone knocked at the door. When we
opened it, four heavily armed men stepped in. They wanted to talk to my wife.
According to evidence, my wife had scheduled to meet Kosh that evening. Kosh
had also tried to call her more than a dozen times before he died. So, my wife
was a prime suspect. However, it turned out I was indeed the one they were
I went with them to the station. They didn't believe anything
I told them, especially the part about the shooting. There was no evidence on
the mystery shooter. He'd left nothing behind which could enable them identify
That was my last evening as a freeman in a foreign land.
The forces of law and order were contented they had their man. My lawyer argued
that I'd never committed a crime before. The prosecutors argued back that it
was premeditated murder and that I be locked up for life, without possibility
of parole. They argued I had a motive, because Kosh was in a relationship with
my wife and I went to his apartment that fateful evening to kill him. After
just a month of going to the courts, I was sentenced to twelve years without
parole and sent to the state prison at West Jutland.
I lost everything. I lost my job. I lost my apartment,
which I bought almost five years ago. I lost my family - my wife and kids. I
saw my wife for the last time in court the day I was sentenced. After the
sentencing, she left without saying goodbye and did not visit throughout the
two years I spent in detention. Most of my friends also abandoned me. They
believed I killed the man because he was having an affair with my wife.
While in prison, I insisted upon my innocence. No one was
willing to listen except my lawyer and my friend Jason. I pleaded that they
find out more about the mystery man who had shot and killed Kosh.
After a year of digging, my lawyer came back with
information that Kosh had an encounter with a man from Nigeria many years ago.
The story went that Kosh had connected with his wife on Facebook. The man found
out, got her well beaten and threatened to kill both. The man got six months in
prison, was later repatriated to Nigeria and banished from Denmark. Kosh spent some
time with the man's wife, before they fell apart.
That was five years ago. The findings did not help my case,
because there was no evidence to prove that the man had returned to Denmark or
if he visited Kosh that faithful evening. I was still a prisoner.
Two years after imprisonment, my lawyer informed me there
was new evidence on my case and I had to reappear in court, first week of
April. I was driven to the Danish court at Glostrup. The court was full on that
day. My wife and friends, most of whom had abandoned me, were there. My kids
were also there.
My lawyer talked about the new evidence, which came to his
attention not long ago. It turned out that to capture his romantic evening with
my wife, on the day of his demise, he had set up a small hidden camera, which
he had switched on immediately I knocked on his door that fateful evening. The
camera had captured everything that had transpired that evening, since Kosh
turned it on. Investigators had missed the camera. One of Kosh's relatives who
inherited his property at his demise. He had found the camera but not watched
footage until two years later, when he picked up the camera and found the
My lawyer played the video in court, and it proved beyond
reasonable doubt that I was innocent. He demanded my immediate release. He
argued and presented how much I lost and asked the court to grant me compensation
for wrongful imprisonment.
''We cannot underestimate the role of family - of strong families in the
construction of successful societies. On this fateful day, this man stepped out
to meet another man, who was forcefully warming his way into his wife's life,
to discuss with him man to man, face to face, in order to solve the problem and
save his marriage - his family. He ended up in prison, for a crime he did not
commit. He lost everything - his apartment, his job, his friends and most
importantly his wife and kids. Everything! I therefore demand justice.''
He had laid his case.
Thanks for reading.
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