Dele came back for Lolly. Dauda went for Glory, and a young vibrant police detective called Ofem paid for Princess. Honey beamed as she received the regular five thousand naira for each of the women.
Five minutes afterward, Glory and Princess were led out of their rooms by the policemen, wanted for questioning. Honey gasped as the ladies were taken away.
“Tell Madam what happened. They are police,” Glory shouted to her.
Honey frowned. “What happened?”
Dele came up behind them. “You said your madam knows what to do. Don’t worry about it.”
Honey clasped her hand over her chest. “Ah, you’re police. You lied.”
“No, but sorry.”
The ladies were helped into the unmarked police jeep outside the One Sister house before the three men got inside. Ofem took the wheel and switched on the police siren. Through light traffic, they arrived at the Criminal Investigation Department (CID) in Alagbon and went as a group into a conference room.
“Please sit,” Dauda said, closing the door.
The two women sat beside each other, but the men remained on their feet.
“This is an informal inquiry, but I am going to have it recorded.” Dauda set a small recorder on the table. “It is just a routine investigation. You ladies have not done anything wrong. We only want information.”
Dele didn’t know much about police procedures, but he was glad Dauda allowed him to be a part of this. He liked his friend for one thing: his ability to take action at a moment’s notice. Dauda was one of those people Nigerians liked to refer to as an “action man.” After the call to him, he’d told Dele to give him a few hours to organize a simple raid. He’d gotten verbal authorization, which could boomerang depending on the “madam’s” level of influence, and had taken the One Sister women to CID instead of his office. Nothing was scripted at the moment until it became official.
Dauda held his hands loosely behind his back and faced the women. “I want you to cooperate. I’m not going to use force on you. I will take you back to your hotel once we’re done here. And depending on you, this will take only a few minutes.”
He did not give them any opportunity to respond. Princess had her eyebrows drawn upward in a sharp tilt, and all Dele could see were Glory’s eyes. She had eyes like Queen’s.
Dauda brought out three pictures of Queen. One was taken in her heydays, when she was the queen among the ladies of the night. Another was of her in America, and the last, the most current photograph gotten from the file footage at the airport as she fled after the incident in Shakira’s house.
Princess’s face lit up at the photographs just a second before she regained her composure.
Dauda arched an eyebrow. “Do you recognize her?”
Glory averted her gaze and pressed her lips together.
“We worked together in a bar. At One Sister. Long ago.” Princess’s eyes darted. “Her name is Queen.”
“Thank you, Princess.” Dauda narrowed his eyes at Glory. “What about you?”
“I don’t know her.”
Dauda pushed the pictures closer to her. “Look at her. Are you sure?”
Glory folded her arms across her chest. “Yes. I don’t know her.”
Dauda returned his attention to Princess. “You said you worked together. When?”
Princess rolled her eyes. “Ah. Long time. Ten or twelve years.”
“And when last did you hear from her?”
Princess bit her lower lip. “It’s long. She left Nigeria . . . since. I think she went to Libya, then Italy. I don’t know again after that.”
“What can you remember about her? What kind of girl was she?”
“Hmm. Queen wanted to see the world, make a lot of money. She can’t live in this Nigeria,” she faltered. “Can I know what happened to her?”
“We’re doing an investigation on her. She may be in serious trouble, and we don’t want her to get hurt.”
Glory mumbled. “It’s a lie. They are looking for her.”
Dauda arched an eyebrow. “Do you want to tell us something we don’t know?”
“I don’t know her. I’m just saying my own.”
“Okay.” He gestured to Ofem. “Please take Princess back to where we got her from. I’d like to continue with Glory and don’t want to waste Princess’s time.”
Princess giggled. “Thank you.”
Glory started. “What do you want to ask? I said I don’t know the woman.” She stood. “Please, let me go too.”
Ofem led Princess out, and Dauda closed the door.
“Glory, for your own good, you need to tell the truth. You can’t escape anymore.” He pointed at Queen’s pictures. “How is this woman related to you?”
“Related?” Glory scoffed. “Someone I don’t know?”
Dauda removed two more pictures from his bag. One was of Glory at a much younger age. The other had two people in it—Glory and Queen.
Glory’s eyes widened. “Ah!”
“You need to talk to me. Is she not your sister?”
The woman trembled and flitted a glance at Dele. Both men waited on her with blank faces. Dele wished he could help her, but the only way was for her to cooperate with the police.
“She is.” Glory twisted her fingers. “She said she will send for me when she has money, but she did not.”
“When last did you speak with her?”
Glory kept quiet for a long time. Dele watched her lips work up a word then fail. Her jaw twitched, and the twisting of her fingers increased.
“Glory?” Dauda leaned forward. “When last did you speak with your sister, Queen?”
Glory raised her head and caught his gaze. Her voice was like a child’s when she spoke. “Yesterday.”