My pulse ran high the whole time, but in a good way. Faced with squalor or not, I was finally pumped to be here.
Africa! Unbelievable.
I didn't think of it as my home, but the attraction was powerful anyway. Exotic and sensual and new. Once again I found myself thinking about poor Ellie. I couldn't get her out of my mind. What had happened to her here? What had she found out?
Flaherty finally slowed at a rug stall. The young seller, negotiating with a man in traditional oatmeal-colored robes, barely glanced over as we walked through the shoulder-high slacks to the back of the stall.
Less than a minute later, he appeared like an apparition at our side.
“Mr. Flaherty,” he said and then nodded at me politely. “I have beer and mineral water in the cooler, if you like.” It felt as though he were welcoming us into his home rather than selling intel in the marketplace.
Flaherty held up a hand. “Just current events, Tokunbo. Today we're interested in the one called the Tiger. The massive one.” I noticed that the name needed no more explanation than that.
“Anything in the last twenty-four hours gets you twenty American. Forty-eight gets you ten. Anything older than that gets you whatever you'd make selling rugs today.”
Tokunbo nodded serenely. He was like Flaherty's polar opposite. “They say he's gone to Sierra Leone. Last night, in fact. You just missed him-lucky for you.”
“Ground or air?”
“By ground.”
“Okay.” Flaherty turned to me. “We're good here. Pay the man.”
Cross Country
Chapter 52
I HAD PLENTY of other tough questions to ask Tokunbo about the Tiger and his gang of savage boys, but he was Flaherty's informant, and I followed his protocol. I owed it to him to keep my mouth shut until we were out of earshot anyway.
“What's with the quick in-and-out?” I said once we had left the rug seller's stall.
“He's in Sierra Leone. Dead end, no good. You don't want to go there.”
“What are you talking about? How do you even know the information's good?”
“Let's just say I've never wanted my money back. Meanwhile, you're better off cooling your heels here For a few days, a week, whatever it takes. See the sights. Stay away from the prostitutes, especially the pretty ones.”
I grabbed Flaherty's arm. “I didn't come all this way to cool my heels by the hotel pool. I've got one target here.”
“You are a target here, my man. You ever hear the saying 'You've got to stay alive to stay in the game'? This is a very dangerous city right now.”
“Don't be an ass, Flaherty. I'm a DC cop, remember. I've done this kind of thing a lot. I'm still standing.”
“Just… take my advice, Detective Cross. He'll be back. Let him come. You can die then.”
“What's your advice if I still want to go to Sierra Leone?”
He took a breath, feeling resigned, I think. “He'll probably go to Koidu. It's near the eastern border. Kailahun's a little too hot right now, even for him. If he went over ground, that means he's trading-which means oil, or maybe gas.”
“Why Koidu?”
“Diamond mines. There's an unofficial oil-for-diamonds trading corridor between here and there. He's heavily into it, from what I hear.”
“Okay. Anything else I should know?”
He started walking again. “Yeah. You got a best buddy back home? Call him. Tell him where you keep your porn, or whatever else you don't want your family to find when you're dead. But hey, have a good trip, and nice knowing you.”
“Flaherty!” I called, but he refused to look back, and when I got outside the market, I found that he'd stranded me there.
So I wandered back inside and bought some fresh fruit-mangoes, guavas, and papayas. Delicious! Might as well live it up while I could.
Tomorrow I would be in Sierra Leone.
Cross Country
Chapter 53
ON A SUN-BEATEN dirt road that twisted through what used to be a forest outside Koidu, a fifteen-year-old boy was slowly choking to death.
