47

Amaka’s heart was beating so fast that she felt short of breath as she opened drawer after drawer, probing into each with her fingers, careful to leave everything as she found it. She pushed the last one in and stopped to listen. She went to the closet, opened the first door and reached in. Each time she parted neatly hung clothes, the thought of discovering a skull on top of a hidden shrine held her back a moment before she looked. She turned to the drawers at the dressing table and cringed as she slowly drew each one out. She rifled through jewellery and odd bits inside but found nothing.

Amaka stood looking around the room. It was sparse but neatly furnished with few places to hide stuff. Her eyes rested on the huge bed, the only place she hadn’t searched. She pulled up the covers. She cocked her head to hear if someone was coming then she bent down and reached with her hands under the bed. There was a black bag. Her fingers touched the leather exterior. She found the handle, gripped it, and dragged the bag out from under the bed. It was heavy. The type that lawyers carry. She placed her thumbs on each of its brass locks and pushed. It clicked open. The bag was full of dollars. She gasped. On top of the neatly arranged bundles of one hundred dollar bills was a small black book, like a small diary.