When Nwankwo arrived back in London, the customs officer asked him to follow him into his office. A policeman came in and informed him that his residency permit had been rescinded, as had his post at the university, and that he was under arrest for theft on the premises of the Serious Fraud Office. Nwankwo listened calmly to all this, as though he was just letting himself be carried along, as though finding himself under arrest was the ultimate stage of the journey embarked upon by the ex-head of the Nigerian fraud squad.

Late that afternoon he appeared before a judge who would pronounce on whether he would be extradited, placed in detention or allowed out on bail. The judge asked him to be seated, and gently took his glasses out of their case, almost regretfully, as though extremely reluctant to pass sentence on a hero. He cleared his throat before each question. This man he was supposed to be judging had the looks of a stranger, but none of the fear that usually showed on the face of the hunted men he normally saw, who seemed like children in the dark; he had nothing in him of those miserable men who had thought they could find a better life in another country. There was something quite different about Nwankwo’s expression – an incandescent stare that was hard to look back at, as though his exile was already complete and internalized.

Nwankwo replied to the questions. Yes, he admitted having copied the film before leaving the premises of the Serious Fraud Squad; yes, he knew Lira Kazan, but he had heard nothing from her since leaving her in Paris at the Gare du Nord with her husband. Félix? No that name meant nothing to him. The judge showed him the reports from the secret-service team in charge of the Oxford surveillance operation. Nwankwo acted the fool. “Oh yes, that was a friend of Lira’s. He came to see her. I had forgotten his name.” Nwankwo felt no compunction in lying here, as so many had done before him. He was just waiting for one question, one single question. Finally it came. The judge said:

“Does the name Uche mean anything to you?”

And then Nwankwo beamed happily, like someone who knows but won’t betray a comrade. Thanks to an @ sign Uche’s wanderings were over. He could finally rejoin the world of the spirits who haunted the roads and paths by night.

In the end the judge granted him bail. Nwankwo returned to the Oxford house. Once again there was a policeman outside. Some of Lira’s strings were still stretched along the walls. Nwankwo was now just waiting to be deported. He heard about Helen’s resignation on the television. She held a press conference, refusing to testify against Nwankwo. She praised his expertise and knowledge of the law, and she gave the name and position of the person who had yelled at her over the telephone on the video which had now been seen by millions on the Internet. He was the Prime Minister’s legal adviser, she said.

Nwankwo listened in amazement. He didn’t hear Ezima coming in. She had knocked at the door, entered and was looking around this house that she had once thought was hers. He finally turned around, smiled sadly, and got up without approaching her. She had that closed expression that he knew so well; she refused the chair he offered her. She appeared to have rehearsed what she proceeded to say:

“I know Tadjou took something for you. You put your own son in danger. I don’t want you coming anywhere near the children.”

“Everything I have ever done has been for their sake,” Nwankwo repeated. It was as though they were just repeating an old conversation.

“Stop it,” Ezima sighed.

He approached. She backed away.

“So are you leaving then?” he asked.

“Yes, we’re going home, we should never have followed you. I know I insisted on coming and I was wrong. I hadn’t realized what you were capable of.”

“Don’t stay in Lagos, or in Abuja. Go across the border to your cousin. Finley will be like a madman.”

“Tell the uncle where you are. He’ll know where we are.”

Then she left without waiting for an answer.

 

Speech by the President of the French Republic,
Saint-Nazaire, 22nd October

 

My fellow countrymen,

I have come here to see for myself that work has begun again. It is what I promised you, and therefore it has happened. This contract between our dockyards and the Russian naval-construction company marks the beginning of a new era. Two ships have been commissioned, and others will follow on the order book. I promise you that. The presence at my side of the Russian Vice-President is proof of Russia’s long-term commitment to this project. I have always been scrupulous about one thing and that is to fulfil my promises to you. You can examine every commitment I have made. I have never lied to you.

I know that there were doubts and criticisms when I announced that I would not abandon you. And I have heard the rumours. There are documents in circulation, are they genuine or forgeries? It hardly matters, rumour has done its work. A young Russian captain of industry was unjustly blamed after the bankruptcy of an obscure bank. A minister of the Republic was forced to resign in order to defend his honour. There will be a judicial inquiry. It will discover nothing, because there is nothing to discover. In the past plotters would work in the back rooms of bars, now they spread rumours on the Internet. I say no to the rule of anonymous denunciation! Yes to the Republic! Yes to a France of the twenty-first century! What do these agitators know of the six months you have just spent on the dole? If the day comes when there are no dockyards, no factories, how will you live, how will your wives and your children live? You who are the first in line for delocalization? These cowards hiding behind their computers are betting on your death! I am placing my bet on your future, on your irreplaceable skills. I am placing my bet on the industrial future of our nation.

I have always believed in the future of shipbuilding, in your competence and I will never accept its disappearance. Here before you all today I wish to reiterate wholeheartedly the core values of our great nation, inscribed over all the monuments of this republic ever since our great revolution: Liberty, Equality, Fraternity.

I have only your interests at heart. Thank you.