Amaka reached back and opened the rear door. Two men with browned bloodstains on their shirts and trousers helped the girl with her face hidden under a long piece of Ankara cloth into the back seat. Chioma lay down flat and kept the cloth over her head. The men closed the door and watched as Amaka drove away.
The gateman stared at the covered body in the back of her car as Amaka drove into the compound. Gabriel and Eyitayo were waiting in front of the large patio of their white bungalow. The husband and wife helped Chioma out of the car and led her, arms over her shoulders, into their home.
Gabriel placed three shot glasses onto the dining table and poured brandy into each from a bottle of Hennessy XO. He held one of the glasses up to Amaka.
‘I shouldn’t,’ she said, but she took the drink and downed it, grimacing as the liquor trickled down her throat. She had changed into a beige jumpsuit she borrowed from Eyitayo. They were about the same height, and Eyitayo was dark-skinned like Amaka. Gabriel liked to boast that she looked like Alek Wek. Amaka thought she was even more beautiful than the stunning supermodel.
Gabriel sat back down opposite her. Eyitayo was at the head of the table between them, staring at Amaka, her mouth wide open.
Gabriel downed his drink then poured another. As if taking her cue from him, Eyitayo picked up her glass and downed it too. ‘Oh my God, Amaka, they could have killed you,’ she said.
‘Yup,’ Amaka said. ‘But I’m alive, thanks to the market women.’
‘And the poor girl. To see her brother killed like that,’ Eyitayo said.
‘Animals. Their leaders loot the treasury dry on a daily basis and they do nothing about it, but some poor chap is accused of lifting a wallet and they burn him alive.’ Amaka held out her glass for Gabriel to refill. ‘You should have seen them. They were excited. They were enjoying it – like it was a party or something. And rather than help, people were just watching and filming it.’
‘This country,’ Eyitayo said. She shuddered.
‘I had it all on tape. I had them. If only I’d not lost the phone.’
‘What are we going to do now? He can’t be allowed to get away with it.’
‘He won’t. She doesn’t want to go to the police.’
‘Do you blame her? Her own boyfriend. Just imagine.’
‘Ex. I’ll get her to call him and I’ll record the conversation. Hopefully he’ll say something that will implicate him, then I’ll have something to take to the police.’ She checked the time on her watch. ‘I’ve got to run. I’m really sorry to inconvenience you guys like this. I didn’t know where else to take her.’
‘Don’t be silly. It’s no problem. Gabriel said you spent the night in a hotel. Why didn’t you come here?’
‘It was late. I didn’t want to bother you guys.’
‘Nonsense. You’re coming back tonight, right?’
‘Yeah. I just have to sort out some things, get my mobile phone lines back, apply for a new passport, see some people, then I’ll be back to get her. I just don’t want her to be by herself.’
‘That’s not what I meant. You’re not staying in a hotel tonight. And your god-daughter would be happy to see you.’
‘Thanks, dear, but I should be able to return home tonight. They can’t block the road forever.’ Amaka turned to Gabriel. ‘Did you get me the appointment?’
‘You know, Amaka, only a few people in this country have the kind of connections, and command the kind of respect it takes to call up a person like Ambrose out of the blue and demand a meeting.’
‘Tell me you’re one such person.’
‘I am. He’ll see you this afternoon. He knows your father. That helped.’
Amaka stood up and downed the last of her brandy.
‘Where are you going? I haven’t even told you when or where.’
‘I need to see someone in Ikoyi. When and where?’
‘Four o’clock. VI. He said he’ll text to let me know where he’ll be. Is Guy the someone in Ikoyi?’ Gabriel asked.
‘Oh shit, thanks for reminding me.’ Amaka said. ‘No, it’s not him. He returned to England yesterday. Shit.’
‘What is it?’
‘Just before the stuff at Oshodi, I sent him a message that Malik had found me. We haven’t spoken since then. He would have been trying to call. Damn. I have to call him.’
‘Guy is the oyinbo boy you brought to the Yoruba Tennis Club?’ Eyitayo asked. Amaka nodded. ‘Cute boy. And you dressed him up in your father’s clothes. Everyone was looking at the two of you. You guys looked so good together. So much chemistry. Are you guys an item, or an item in the making?’
Amaka smiled. ‘He’s alright.’
‘Is he coming back, or how do you people plan to do it? Long-distance relationships can be challenging.’
‘Gabriel likes him. He’s rooting for him.’ Gabriel shrugged. ‘And who is Malik?’
‘An irritant.’ Amaka said. She held her borrowed phone and considered it. ‘Can I call him on yours? I haven’t retrieved my old lines yet and I want to keep this one for work alone.’
Both Eyitayo and Ibrahim unlocked their phones and held them out. She took Eyitayo’s and dialled Guy’s London number from memory. It rang for a while and she was about to hang up when someone answered.
‘Hello lover boy,’ she said. A female voice answered: ‘Sorry, you must want Guy. He’s in the shower. Do you want to leave a message or call back?’
‘I’ll call back,’ Amaka said and ended the call. She handed the phone back to Eyitayo.
‘That was brief,’ Eyitayo said.
‘He’s busy,’ Amaka said. ‘I must rush or traffic will catch me.’ She started walking towards the door when Eyitayo’s phone rang. She swung round. ‘If it’s him don’t answer.’
Eyitayo answered. ‘Hello? Guy? This is Eyitayo. Gabriel’s wife. We met at the party. Hold on for Amaka.’
Amaka took the phone and turned her back to the couple. ‘Amaka…’ Guy said, sounding out of breath.
‘Was that Mel?’ she asked.
There was a long pause. ‘Yes.’
‘Your ex-girlfriend. Cool. Sorry to disturb you. Don’t call back. This is Eyitayo’s phone.’ Amaka returned the phone to Eyitayo.
‘Everything OK, hun?’ Eyitayo asked.
‘Yes. See you later.’ Amaka walked towards the door.
‘Amaka,’ Gabriel said.
‘What?’
‘We had a deal, remember? I get you the appointment, you tell me what you’re up to. I’m not sending you the details till you tell me.’