‘What do you think they do in here?’ Ibrahim said.
Amaka walked between the chains hanging from the ceiling. She pressed her hand into the white padded leather wall. Chains rattled behind her as Ibrahim held up a length and looked at the metal hoops in his hand. ‘Do you think they tie themselves to these?’ he said.
Hot-Temper stepped into the doorway. ‘Oga Mshelia say make you come downstairs.’
Amaka took pictures before they left.
Outside, Alex and all the officers were looking in through the doorway; Mshelia was in front of them, one end of a blue nylon rope in his hand, and excess loops of it in the clutch of his other. The rope led across the floor to the banister of the staircase from where it looped back to the lid of the blue trunk.
‘You think it’s a booby trap?’ Ibrahim said as he stepped out of the door.
‘Don’t know, but not taking chances,’ Mshelia said. ‘Get back.’
Everyone moved out onto the gravel-covered front yard and watched. Mshelia backed away, letting more of the rope fall to the ground until he backed up to the fence. He looked behind him and grinned. The men put their fingers in their ears. Amaka did the same. Mshelia began pulling the rope, gathering the loops in his other hand. When it stretched tight across the ground, he paused. ‘Ibro,’ he said. ‘If anything happens to me, I have a case of Petrus under my bed. I will it to you.’
‘What is Petrus?’ Ibrahim asked.
‘Very expensive wine,’ Mshelia said. ‘Amaka, this one will not appreciate fine wine. I will my custom seizure to you. OK, people: three, two, one…’
He pulled the rope and the lid of the blue trunk lifted. When it was almost vertical, he gave it a tug and it fell backwards. Two Navy officers stepped out and walked along either side of the rope that led into the house. Once they were past the foyer they slowed down and approached the open box as if it was a rigged bomb.
‘What’s inside?’ Mshelia called to the men.
‘Oga, you have to come and see,’ one of them said.
Everyone crowded round the trunk. In one end was a woman’s head – Caucasian, with silky brown hair. The blue eyes were wide open, as was her mouth. Her large lips covered in hot red lipstick formed an ‘O’. The rest of the naked body was partly buried under different sizes, colours, textures, and shapes of gelatinous dildos, the largest ones up to twelve inches long, fat as an arm, and ranging in colour from dark brown to jet black; the others were every colour from cream to blue to neon green.
Two navy officers reached inside from either end. One reached through the soft sex toys and clasped his hands under her legs; the other put his arms under her armpits and together they lifted up the life-sized silicone doll as dildos fell away from its belly.
They laid the sex toy on the floor in front of the trunk. It was the size of a real woman; its large breasts had pink areolas and hard nipples; its lifelike vagina had minuscule dots as if it had been shaved.
Some of the men reached into the trunk and held up wobbly prosthetics, teasing one another with them. A few would neither touch the toys, nor laugh at the others. Some were frowning, looking on in disgust.
‘It’s definitely the right building,’ Ibrahim said.
‘Yes, ‘Mshelia said. ‘And someone left this here on purpose so we would know we have the right house. They know we are here.’ He turned to Amaka. ‘You’ve found The Harem. What do you want to do now?’
Amaka looked around, and up the stairs.
‘Burn it down,’ she said.