“People find it difficult to believe that a black man can be clever and intelligent. Have you found that to be true, Doctor Cross? How about you, Adanne?”
She didn’t answer, but she spit at him. “Murderer,” she said.
“One of the best—and proud of my accomplishment
s.”
Then he fired a third shot, right between Adanne’s eyes. Her body lurched forward, and she landed facedown on the ground. Her arms spread out like wings. Adanne didn’t move.
As fast as that, as insane, she was gone. Adanne was dead in this horrid jail cell, murdered by the Tiger as the police looked on and did nothing to stop him.
Rage poured out of me. There were no words for what I was feeling. A cord tightened around my throat, another around my forehead.
Don’t worry about me, Adanne had said. She knew they were going to kill her; she knew it all the time.
Her killer stood over her and he watched me. Then he grinned. He dropped his trousers, went down on his knees, and committed his final outrage against Adanne.
“Pretty girl,” he growled. “You did this to her. Never forget that, Detective. Never.”
Chapter 114
ALEX, DON’T WORRY about me.
Don’t worry about me.
Don’t worry.
Night had become morning somehow, and I was still alive. I could see that it was light through the black fabric of a hood they made me wear. What’s more, I was being moved.
The neck cord kept me oxygen hungry and weak as they dragged me outside. They threw me like cargo into the backseat of a truck or van, a vehicle with a high step and a diesel engine.
Then we drove for a long time. I kept my eyes open inside the hood. Still, all I could see in my mind was the last moment when Adanne was alive, and then . . .
The Tiger had killed her, and worse. He thought I was a joke. He said I was no threat to him. Just another policeman. We’d see.
If I lived through the next few hours or so.
As the ride continued, I prayed for Adanne and for her family. I told them, in my own way, that this wasn’t over yet. Not that it mattered to them. But it did to me. I wondered why I was still alive. It made no sense to me. Another mystery.
When we finally stopped, car doors opened on either side of me. Now what?
Somebody shoved my head down into the seat. The cuffs were roughly removed. Powerful hands pressed into the small of my back and pushed hard. “You go home now. Go!”
I went flying through the air—but only for a few seconds of uncertainty and terror.
Then I landed on stone or cement. By the time I’d gotten up and untied the hood, they were gone, out of sight, whoever had brought me here.
They had dropped me on a side street next to an official-looking building, the sort of white stone box you might find in downtown DC.
I could see through an iron fence and across a manicured front lawn to a gatehouse out front.
An American flag flew above it, flapping in a light breeze.
This was the American consulate. Had to be. The embassy was in Abuja. That must be where I was now.
But why?
Chapter 115