Emeka had changed his fragrance.
Creed Aventus.
Blackcurrant. Smoke. Wood.
Zara noticed before reaching the table.
“You are staring,” Emeka said.
“I am assessing.”
“Is the perfume under investigation?”
“You changed it.”
“You noticed.”
“It entered the restaurant before you.”
He pulled out her chair.
Dinner was easier than Zara wanted it to be.
Emeka told her how his father once rejected a government contract after officials demanded ten percent before work began.
“We nearly lost the company,” he said.
“Do you believe he made the right decision?”
“I used to think he was stubborn. Now I think he understood what the money would cost.”
Zara placed her fork down.
“AEGIS.”
His smile faded.
“You said we would not discuss the file.”
“I changed my mind.”
“That appears to be one of your hobbies.”
“Do you know the company?”
“Adeyemi handles suppliers.”
“That was not my question.”
“No. I do not know who owns AEGIS.”
“They are inside your bridge bid.”
“I know.”
“They were also inside the bridge contract that collapsed three years ago.”
Emeka stopped moving.
“Twenty-three people died,” Zara continued. “AEGIS also appears in a school collapse and a hospital contract connected to eleven deaths.”
“You are saying the same company supplied all three?”
“Yes.”
“And now they are inside my project?”
“Yes.”
Emeka stared toward the city lights.
Then he said, “Dele approached me six months ago.”
Zara became still.
“What did he say?”
“He told me a major bridge contract was coming. He said Nnadi Construction could become a national company if I understood government partnerships.”
“You knew before the tender was announced?”
“I knew Dele claimed something was coming.”
“And reported nothing?”
“With what proof?”
“You could have told me when we met.”
“The first night we met, you looked as though you had already ordered handcuffs.”
“I was doing my job.”
“And I wanted you to see me before you saw whatever Dele had placed around me.”
Zara disliked the answer because part of her understood it.
“Someone inside your company approved AEGIS.”
“Adeyemi?”
“He signed the supplier documents.”
“Adeyemi has worked with me for seven years.”
“That does not make him innocent.”
“It does not make him guilty either.”
“Then do not confront him.”
“How am I supposed to sit across from him and pretend?”
“By remembering that people died!”
Her voice rose.
Several diners turned.
Emeka lowered his voice.
“I heard you.”
“No. You are hearing betrayal. I need you to hear the bodies.”
His jaw tightened.
“You are right.”
Zara paused.
“I do not like how quickly you agreed.”
“Arguing with you when you are right is exhausting.”
“Only when I am right?”
“You are right far too often.”
She looked away before he saw her smile.
Emeka leaned forward.
“You have started saying ‘we.’”
“I have not.”
“You have.”
“I meant the investigation.”
“You came to dinner.”
“To question you.”
“You wore green.”
“Because I own green.”
“You noticed my perfume.”
“Because it arrived first.”
“Very thorough investigation.”
Zara’s phone rang.
Daniel Okoro.
She answered.
“I found part of the original report,” he said.
“Where?”
“You need to understand something. AEGIS is not the top.”
“What is it?”
“The pipe. Public money enters one side and leaves through people whose names never appear.”
“Meet me.”
“Tomorrow. Four o’clock. Millennium Park.”
The line went dead.
Emeka watched her.
“You are not going alone.”
“That was not an invitation.”
“Bring Mariam.”
“I planned to.”
He leaned closer.
The Aventus moved between them.
“You hide fear behind instructions.”
“And you hide seriousness behind jokes.”
“So we are learning.”
Outside, Emeka opened her car door.
“Be careful tomorrow.”
“I am always careful.”
“That is not true.”
Zara entered the car.
Three streets later, a grey vehicle pulled out behind her.
It followed her home.