From his seat under one of the octagonal gazebos, a warm, untouched bottle of Star on the table in front of him, Ibrahim watched river taxis come and go, passengers alighting onto wooden docks next to anchored boats, and staff helping them out of their orange lifejackets. At the next gazebo, close to the bar overlooking the lagoon, a group of noisy passengers already in lifejackets were talking their way through doughnuts, meat pies, scotch eggs, and bottles of mineral water. Among them was a woman. She rolled up a large map, tucked it into her black backpack and placed the bag on the ground near their table. It was to her that a member of staff who had come to enquire about their journey had spoken, but one of the men in her party answered loudly enough for Ibrahim and others to hear: ‘We are still waiting for our friend.’
Ibrahim checked the time on his watch before placing his phone on the table. The same white speedboat with four men inside had just returned, this time heading east. He had timed their passage. In exactly five minutes their engine would roar past again.
Ibrahim held up his hand and waved. Amaka peered at him over her sunshades. At the table she took off the glasses.
‘Where is Alex?’ Amaka said looking around. ‘What’s the plan?’
‘We wait.’ There was some time to go before 3 o’clock.
‘I know where The Harem is,’ Amaka said.
‘You said so. How?’
Amaka unlocked her phone, opened up the message from Naomi, and showed it to Ibrahim. ‘That’s the location.’
Ibrahim read the message under the map.
‘Who is this?’
‘Someone who works at The Harem. She knew Florentine. I went to see her last night after leaving your place. She smuggled her phone there.’
‘Yesterday?’
‘Yes. I’d tried to get her to do it before, but she was afraid of what Malik would do to her if she got caught.’
‘And now she’s suddenly happy to help?’
‘I know you’re thinking it’s too good to be true, but I spoke to her. I looked into her eyes. She was at breaking point. She wants out.’
‘What changed between when you first spoke to her and now? You don’t think this is a trap?’
‘I asked myself the same thing. But if he has already set one trap for me, why would he bother with another? See what she wrote. She just confirmed Florentine is dead. That’s what she found out that made her change her mind.’
He tapped on the map to expand it. ‘This location is closer to Ibadan than Lagos.’
‘Yes. And it’s way, way off the express, just like Florentine described. I’ve got my tablet. We can check it out on Google Maps.’
‘One thing at a time,’ Ibrahim said.
The woman sitting with the men at the next gazebo had been looking at Ibrahim and Amaka from time to time. She reached down and pulled out her rolled-up map from her bag, tapped the man sitting next to her on his back as she stood up, then walked towards Amaka and Ibrahim. She stood in front of their table with the map stretched out in her hand.
‘Can you help me with a location?’ she asked.
Ibrahim moved his untouched bottle of Star out of the way and the woman spread the world map out on the table. Her finger was bent over the Horn of Africa.
‘Amaka, look here,’ Ibrahim said, his finger on the middle of the Pacific Ocean.
‘This is police superintendent Fatima Alao,’ he said. ‘Don’t look up; they might be watching us. Leave your car keys on the table and come with me.’
Amaka looked at the woman who was still staring at the map.
‘Where are we going?’ Amaka asked.
‘For a boat ride. Fatima is trained in defensive driving. When they make contact, she will pretend to receive the call, in case they’re watching. Once we spot them we’ll move in to apprehend them and she’ll manoeuvre out of harm’s way.’
‘There won’t be a call,’ Amaka said, ‘Florentine is dead, remember? It’ll be a message.’
Fatima spoke without looking up. ‘That won’t be a problem.’ Her voice was soft. She had dark skin like Amaka; they were about the same height – perhaps Amaka was taller.
Amaka looked at Ibrahim.
‘Keys, on table,’ he said. ‘Please.’