A Range Rover pulled up in front of the gate and sounded its horn. Behind it was a Mercedes saloon, and behind that, another Range Rover.
A man in a khaki uniform opened a foot gate and shielded his eyes from the headlights. The driver honked again. The gateman walked to the SUV while behind him, holding his AK-47 high above his head, a policeman yawned and stretched in the frame of the foot gate.
The rear window of the Mercedes rolled down. A single gunshot lit up the interior of the car and the rifle dropped from the hands of the policeman in the foot gate. He grabbed his belly, folded forward, and fell, head first onto the concrete pavement.
‘Put your hands down,’ Area said to the gateman, who was staring at the pistol aimed at his head. The gateman lowered his hands to his sides and stood rigid.
Men with automatic pistols climbed out of the cars and made for the foot gate. The first four jumped over the dead officer. The last two carried the body into the compound.
‘Is Amaka in the house?’ Area asked the gateman. The man shook his head.
‘Why are you lying to me?’ Area said.
‘I no dey lie, sir. Na only me and the officer dey for house.’
‘Any other officer dey inside?’
‘No, sir.’
A single shot rang from within the compound. The gateman flinched and grimaced. Area shook his head at him.
The gates opened. Two dead bodies on top of each other in an X shape lay in front of a car covered in a tarpaulin. Area nodded to the gateman to enter the compound. The cars drove in and the men closed the gates behind them.
Amaka’s head broke the surface of the water. She wiped her face, sat up in the bathtub and listened. She reached for the towel on the rack and dried her face and ears. ‘Hello?’ she said. No answer. She waited. She sat back in the bathtub and closed her eyes. The water would soon start getting cold.
His heart racing, a pistol pressed into his back, the gateman walked along the unlit corridor. Moonlight from a window illuminated his path while behind him, four armed men and Area followed, their footsteps silent on the rug.
The gateman stopped at a door and looked at Area. The little gangster’s black trilby was tilted to the left. The pistol dangling by his side looked too big for his little hand.
Area pointed at the door. The gateman nodded. Area waved. The man was led aside, the gun still planted in his back. Two men stood either side of the door and pointed their pistols at it. Area stepped back. Holding his pistol in both hands, he levelled the weapon at the door and nodded. One of the men knocked on the door.