The file on Nnadi Construction was thinner than Zara expected.
For a contract worth billions, thin was dangerous.
She spread the documents across her desk.
Company records.
Completed projects.
Bank statements.
Suppliers.
Nnadi Construction looked clean.
Then she found AEGIS Logistics and Infrastructure Limited inside the proposed supply chain.
AEGIS had been selected to provide bridge bearings, reinforcement steel, safety barriers and specialist transport.
Yet the company had no registered warehouse, no proven staff strength and no meaningful record of completing work at that scale.
Zara searched the Ministry database.
AEGIS appeared in another bridge contract three years earlier.
That bridge had collapsed during morning traffic.
Twenty-three people died.
The official report blamed flooding, poor maintenance and contractor errors.
AEGIS had been paid for premium steel and certified bridge bearings.
The inspection photographs showed cheaper materials.
Zara searched again.
A classroom block.
The roof collapsed during heavy rain.
Seven pupils and a teacher died.
AEGIS supplied the reinforcement rods and roofing supports.
Another search.
A government hospital.
AEGIS received payment for backup power and a complete medical-oxygen system.
Only part of the equipment was installed.
During a power failure, eleven patients died.
Three tragedies.
Three reports blaming separate failures.
One company hiding inside all of them.
Zara’s phone buzzed.
Dinner Thursday? I need to prove my paperwork is clean.
Emeka.
She typed:
I do not discuss active files over dinner.
His reply came immediately.
Then we will discuss everything else.
There is nothing else.
You smiled at me. That is one topic.
Zara glanced around the office.
I did not smile.
I have witnesses.
Your witnesses are unreliable.
Thursday. Seven. Wear the black dress.
Her fingers stopped.
It was navy.
So you remember what you wore.
Zara placed the phone face down.
Binta appeared beside her.
“Why are you blushing?”
“I am not.”
“The air conditioner is freezing my left arm, so do not blame the heat.”
“Do you need something?”
“I needed your signature. Now I need his name.”
“There is no name.”
“Your face has a name.”
“Binta.”
“I am leaving.”
She did not move.
Zara lifted her eyes.
Binta smiled. “Fine.”
That evening, Zara met Mariam Bello at a quiet café.
They had met during their NYSC year in Abuja and shared an apartment with two other women.
Zara created cleaning schedules.
Mariam ignored them.
After service, Zara joined the Ministry while Mariam joined the EFCC. They remained close enough for Mariam to know when Zara was hiding something.
Mariam read the AEGIS records.
“This is not one fraud case,” she said.
“I know.”
“The bridge, the school and the hospital?”
“Yes.”
“And now AEGIS is inside Emeka Nnadi’s new bid.”
“Yes.”
Mariam closed the file.
“You like him.”
“That has nothing to do with the documents.”
“It affects how carefully I must check your conclusions.”
“I have not concluded that he is innocent.”
“Do you want him to be?”
Zara hesitated.
“Yes.”
“At least you are honest.”
“Only because lying to you takes too much energy.”
Mariam reopened the bridge report.
A handwritten note sat beneath an inspection photograph.
Materials installed do not match approved supply list. Full structural review required before opening. — Engr. Daniel Okoro
The official report never mentioned the warning.
“Find him,” Mariam said.
Zara’s phone rang.
Unknown number.
“Miss Musa?” a man whispered.
“Yes.”
“My name is Daniel Okoro.”
Zara looked at Mariam.
“The report they published was not mine,” Daniel said.
“What happened to your report?”
“They changed it.”
“Who?”
Daniel breathed heavily.
“AEGIS was not supposed to supply those materials.”
A car horn sounded near him.
His voice dropped.
“They know someone reopened the file.”
The call ended.