very bright, Weston,” Abayomi said finally.
“I’m lucky. I don’t need to be bright.”
A car pulled up to us, just one driver this time. Abayomi conversed with the driver quietly, and then pointed to the car. “Your pumpkin.”
“What’s your first name?” I asked.
“Abayomi. It’s a thing in my family. At least one male child has to have the surname as Christian name.”
I settled in the back seat, rolled down the window. Abayomi handed me my gun and holster along with an envelope. “Have you ever read
Ogboju Ode ninu Igbo Irunmale
by D.O. Fagunwa?”
“Vaguely remember reading it as a child. Everyone did. There’s an English translation:
Forest of a Thousand Daemons
or something. Why?”
“In it the hero, Akara Ogun, goes through the enchanted forest and encounters various demons. I wrote a thesis on it in university. In this thing you’re trying to do, you are in a position not unlike that of Akara Ogun. A word to the wise: bright trumps lucky.”
“Perhaps,” I said. “You do know your boy is a thug, right?”
“Some people only respond to thugs, Weston. Have a safe trip back.”
Chapter Eight
There were twenty-two missed calls on my mobile, but I ignored them and phoned Nana.
“Hello?” Drowsy-sounding. But then, it was past midnight by the time I returned to the hotel.
“Nana?”
She yawned. “Weston.”
“Hi.”
“People sleep at this hour, Weston.”
“I know. I’m sorry I didn’t call earlier, but something happened. I’ve wanted to call all day.”
“I called the hotel. Didn’t they tell you?”
“I just got in. There’s only the night staff and they probably don’t know. Listen: I need you to come get me.”
“Ok. What time tomorrow?”
“Not tomorrow. Now. This instant.”
She laughed. “Are you trying to make me put down the phone?”
“I’m serious, Nana. If you can’t do it, tell me now so I can get a cab.”
“Calm down.” I heard bedclothes rustling and a lengthy yawn. “Jesus, look at the time. You’re going to pay for this. I have an exam in the morning.”
“Can you be here?”
“Give me forty minutes.”
She hung up, and I checked my voicemails, which were all from Church and demonstrated varying degrees of agitation and displeasure, at one point threatening to decapitate me at the first opportunity. I called him back.
“Ore wa! Where have you been? I was worried,” he said.
“I went to see His Excellency Supreme Commander Abiodun Craig. I forgot to add Field Marshall.”
“That was fast,” Church said, not at all sounding surprised. “I knew they’d want to talk to you, make sure you were neutral, but…tell me everything first.”
I did. Except I didn’t mention the envelope that Abayomi gave me as I was leaving. That envelope contained fifteen thousand US dollars.
“You mixed it up with the Black Beret Brigade and lived. That’s highly unusual. They’re Craig’s personal bodyguard, picked from all other forces for their brutality and fanatical dedication to the cause.” He laughed. Church was the only person I knew who was comfortable laughing by himself when in company. He didn’t care that I didn’t get the joke. When he caught his breath he said, “You should be safe. We all want this murder solved so that we can go back to pushing their nyanshes back to Nigeria or Cameroon, whichever is more convenient.”
“I’ll be in touch,” I said. “I need to get some rest.”
Instead I packed everything, strapped on my gun and waited for Nana. Soon she flashed me with a text saying she was outside and I left the room, looking back to check if I forgot anything.
I used the stairs, and, when I reached the lobby, I could see Nana outside in her Benz. I put my things down on the floor and went to the dozing clerk first.
I tapped the counter. “Hey.”
“Hmm. Oh, hello, sir.” He was a kid. Neat hair, no chin fuzz, bloodshot eyes from interrupted sleep, tall, a face devoid of the lines of frustration that
“I’m lucky. I don’t need to be bright.”
A car pulled up to us, just one driver this time. Abayomi conversed with the driver quietly, and then pointed to the car. “Your pumpkin.”
“What’s your first name?” I asked.
“Abayomi. It’s a thing in my family. At least one male child has to have the surname as Christian name.”
I settled in the back seat, rolled down the window. Abayomi handed me my gun and holster along with an envelope. “Have you ever read
Ogboju Ode ninu Igbo Irunmale
by D.O. Fagunwa?”
“Vaguely remember reading it as a child. Everyone did. There’s an English translation:
Forest of a Thousand Daemons
or something. Why?”
“In it the hero, Akara Ogun, goes through the enchanted forest and encounters various demons. I wrote a thesis on it in university. In this thing you’re trying to do, you are in a position not unlike that of Akara Ogun. A word to the wise: bright trumps lucky.”
“Perhaps,” I said. “You do know your boy is a thug, right?”
“Some people only respond to thugs, Weston. Have a safe trip back.”
Chapter Eight
There were twenty-two missed calls on my mobile, but I ignored them and phoned Nana.
“Hello?” Drowsy-sounding. But then, it was past midnight by the time I returned to the hotel.
“Nana?”
She yawned. “Weston.”
“Hi.”
“People sleep at this hour, Weston.”
“I know. I’m sorry I didn’t call earlier, but something happened. I’ve wanted to call all day.”
“I called the hotel. Didn’t they tell you?”
“I just got in. There’s only the night staff and they probably don’t know. Listen: I need you to come get me.”
“Ok. What time tomorrow?”
“Not tomorrow. Now. This instant.”
She laughed. “Are you trying to make me put down the phone?”
“I’m serious, Nana. If you can’t do it, tell me now so I can get a cab.”
“Calm down.” I heard bedclothes rustling and a lengthy yawn. “Jesus, look at the time. You’re going to pay for this. I have an exam in the morning.”
“Can you be here?”
“Give me forty minutes.”
She hung up, and I checked my voicemails, which were all from Church and demonstrated varying degrees of agitation and displeasure, at one point threatening to decapitate me at the first opportunity. I called him back.
“Ore wa! Where have you been? I was worried,” he said.
“I went to see His Excellency Supreme Commander Abiodun Craig. I forgot to add Field Marshall.”
“That was fast,” Church said, not at all sounding surprised. “I knew they’d want to talk to you, make sure you were neutral, but…tell me everything first.”
I did. Except I didn’t mention the envelope that Abayomi gave me as I was leaving. That envelope contained fifteen thousand US dollars.
“You mixed it up with the Black Beret Brigade and lived. That’s highly unusual. They’re Craig’s personal bodyguard, picked from all other forces for their brutality and fanatical dedication to the cause.” He laughed. Church was the only person I knew who was comfortable laughing by himself when in company. He didn’t care that I didn’t get the joke. When he caught his breath he said, “You should be safe. We all want this murder solved so that we can go back to pushing their nyanshes back to Nigeria or Cameroon, whichever is more convenient.”
“I’ll be in touch,” I said. “I need to get some rest.”
Instead I packed everything, strapped on my gun and waited for Nana. Soon she flashed me with a text saying she was outside and I left the room, looking back to check if I forgot anything.
I used the stairs, and, when I reached the lobby, I could see Nana outside in her Benz. I put my things down on the floor and went to the dozing clerk first.
I tapped the counter. “Hey.”
“Hmm. Oh, hello, sir.” He was a kid. Neat hair, no chin fuzz, bloodshot eyes from interrupted sleep, tall, a face devoid of the lines of frustration that
Similar Books
