Cooper had been waiting outside for the past eighty-six minutes. Not that he cared. He was happy to wait all day if he had to. Waiting was something he was good at. Something over the years he’d honed, especially when it meant seeing who he needed to see.
Thinking that he was going to be in for a long wait, but not particularly caring, he was happy to be proved wrong when the large gates suddenly glided open, letting out a nondescript car.
Taking advantage of the moment he’d been waiting for, Cooper slammed down hard on the kick-start. Sped the bike through the now open gates. Raced along the perfectly tarmacked road.
Jumping off the bike at the entrance, Cooper sent it spinning along the ground with the engine still revving. He ran into the main reception of the Lemon water treatment plant, calling out to the person he was wanting to see.
Wide eyed and wired and agitated, looking for someone to pay.
‘Charles…! Charles…! Charles!’
He bellowed hard to the sheer terror of the woman working behind the desk, who stayed frozen at the sight of Cooper covered in blood.
‘Where is he…? Where’s Charles?’
Fear rendered the woman almost speechless. ‘He’s… he’s…’
Cooper slammed on the desk. ‘He’s where? Upstairs? Is that where?’
The woman managed to nod. Managed to get out the words. ‘Second floor… end of the hall.’
Cooper dashed up the stairs, calling out again. ‘Charles…! Charles! Get the hell out here now, unless you want me to come and find you… Charles!’
A door opened at the end of the hall and there, standing nervously, was Charles Templin-Wright.
Before he had time to open his mouth, Cooper smashed his fist into Charles’s face.
The blow split open his lip instantly.
But he hadn’t finished. He slammed his forearm into Charles’s throat to pin him against the wall, their noses nearly touching. ‘She’s dead, shot through the head, and unless I find out otherwise, I’m holding you responsible.’
‘What… what are you talking about?’
‘I’m talking about Zola, but you wouldn’t have even bothered to know her name, would you?’
‘I don’t…’
‘Know what I’m talking about…? Sure you don’t.’
He kneed Charles in the stomach. Winded him. Caused his body to judder with pain as he kept him pinned against the wall.
‘I’m going to find out, you hear me, Charles? And when I do, you’ll wish your momma never gave birth to you. The thing is, I hate liars. I hate cowards. And you, Charles, are both… Don’t bother trying to shake your head, because we both know that’s true. Take the car I saw you in. Are you still going to tell me it was your friend not you who borrowed it off Bemba?’
He pushed harder on Charles’s trachea. ‘Well are you?’
With his face scarlet, Charles gave a tiny shake of his head and saliva spluttered out of his mouth as he scratched at Cooper’s arm and desperately tried to pull it away from the choke-hold.
Cooper gave it another minute before releasing Charles, who fell forward and dropped on all fours and coughed violently. Not letting him off so easily, he joined him on his knees. He grabbed Charles’s hair to lift his head up to look at him.
‘Where’s Bemba?’
‘I… I don’t know what you mean.’
The slap Cooper gave to the side of Charles’s ear sounded along the hall. ‘I think you know damn well what I mean. Don’t waste my time Charles. I’m not in the mood to have it wasted.’
Charles stared. Looked terrified. ‘Okay… okay, I know him… not well but…’
‘Save the BS, Charles, just tell me where he is.’
‘I don’t know. I don’t know that. His church in Buziba, maybe?’
Pulling Charles to a standing position by his thin, listless hair, Cooper was as red faced as Charles. ‘Are you trying to play games with me, Charlie-boy? Because if you are, let me give you a word of advice: never take on a crazy man who’s got nothing left to lose. And I haven’t. I’ve got nothing left. So what’s it going to be?’
Charles’s face was a mixture of horror and panic and fear and dread. He shook violently as he spoke. ‘I just don’t know any more information than that. I swear.’
‘You don’t know where he lives?’
Charles shook his head as he gave his answer. ‘No.’
Digesting the reply, Cooper let go of Charles’s hair. ‘Okay, this is how it’s going to work. I’m leaving now, but I’m coming back for you. Understand? I’m coming the hell back.’
‘Yes… okay…okay.’
‘And when I do, you’ll have found out where Bemba lives and what he does and where he goes.’
‘But…’
Cooper put his finger on Charles’s mouth, jamming it hard against the split lip which still seeped with blood. A tiny squeal of pain came from him.
‘No buts, Charles, got that…? Because if you don’t have the information by then, guess what?’
‘I… I don’t know.’
‘Then I’m going to kill you… Real slow. Real painful… You got that, Charles?’
‘Yes… yes.’
‘Good… I’ll see you soon.’
Turning and marching down the hallway, Cooper took the stairs at speed. Trailed his hand along the reception desk. Passed the frightened woman. Kicked at the brown ornaments he’d spoken with Charles about which sat on the floor.
They smashed, sending hundreds of fragmented pieces everywhere. With sarcasm rich in his voice he said, ‘Oops, sorry about that.’
‘It’s… it’s… it’s fine. Really, don’t worry.’
Striding to the door, he suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. And to the quiet consternation of the receptionist, he turned back. Bent down and picked up a piece of the clay ornament and then popped it into his pocket and turned and walked out into the Congolese rain.