fault. And whatever anyone says, I’ll always know it was my fault
.
When the firefighter had gone, Jack and Chloe came and sat with Itch.
‘So let’s get this clear,’ said Jude softly. ‘Someone has just sent you a parcel bomb, Itch. Someone has tried to kill you.’ Nicholas put his arm around her.
Itch nodded. ‘We know who it is, Mum. It’s not a
someone
. It’s Flowerdew – it
has
to be. But he killed the policeman who was checking the mail, not me.’
‘And a package arrived at school,’ cried Chloe. ‘I saw it! It was addressed to Dr Dart. The academy was evacuated . . .’
‘And a fire has killed poor John Watkins,’ finished Jude.
‘He got a parcel too,’ said Itch.
‘Are there more?’ asked Chloe. ‘Have they stopped now?’
Jack tensed, but Itch held her arm. ‘There were three packages,’ he said. ‘They checked with the parcel firm.’
‘So we’re safe now?’
Itch stared at the charred house and at the sombre police and fire crew, quietly going about their business.
‘Doesn’t really feel like it,’ he said.
10
The six divers stood in front of the two oilmen. Leila, Chika, Aisha, Sade, Dada and Tobi took it in turns to tell their stories. In the heat and stink of the basement, they spoke of how they had come to work for Greencorps, fallen in with Shivvi and become the best diving team in the company’s history. And then how they had been disbanded, sacked and their leader punished.
‘We know she was a bitch,’ said Leila. ‘We know she was a criminal – but she looked after us better than you did.’ She crouched in between the sweating Revere and Van Den Hauwe. ‘Imagine that. A convicted criminal looking after Greencorps employees better than the company itself. You must be so proud.’
A muffled sound came from the Dutchman. It was the best he could manage with his socks in his mouth.
Leila nodded. ‘I’ll take that to mean you’re very sorry and wish to make amends for your sins.’
He nodded.
‘And that the two million dollars will be transferred today.’
He nodded again.
‘And that you’ll resign from Greencorps. Also today.’
They both nodded.
She stood up and faced her colleagues. ‘We are done here. Dada, stay and watch them. Let’s get to work.’ The divers filed out, Chika making sure she kicked both men on her way out.
Revere and Van Den Hauwe stared at their remaining captor; with shaved head and large hoop earrings, she stared straight back at them. It looked as though both men wanted to talk, both straining against their ropes.
‘I wouldn’t bother,’ said Dada. ‘Divers know how to tie knots. It’ll all be over soon anyway.’ She sat on a stool and picked up a magazine. Eventually the men were silent.
Outside, the Lagos traffic was a distant rumble. Inside, the only sounds were the oilmen’s heavy breathing and the rustle of Dada’s magazine. The temperature was stifling and both men appeared to be asleep. Until a voice said, ‘I’d leave, if I was you.’ Then they were wide awake.
Dada jumped up, dropping her magazine, a diving knife appearing in her hand. ‘Who the hell . . .? Oh God . . . no.’ She shrank back into her chair, reaching for her phone.
‘Most unwise, sweetheart,’ said Nathaniel Flowerdew, and pointed a gun at her head. She looked at it, then at the heavily bandaged face, and dropped the knife. Both hands went in the air. ‘Better,’ he said. ‘Which one are you, by the way? Shivvi did tell me about her little gang of divers, but I never took much notice . . .’
Dada swore viciously in Malay and Flowerdew laughed.
‘Ah yes, I remember Shivvi telling me to do that too. Oh well – no matter,’ and he turned to the trussed and panicking oilmen. ‘You can still tell who I am, then . . .’ He indicated his bandaged face and arm. ‘Despite my . . . clever disguise.’ He grabbed Dada’s stool and placed it in front of Revere and Van Den Hauwe. ‘I am Dr Nathaniel
.
When the firefighter had gone, Jack and Chloe came and sat with Itch.
‘So let’s get this clear,’ said Jude softly. ‘Someone has just sent you a parcel bomb, Itch. Someone has tried to kill you.’ Nicholas put his arm around her.
Itch nodded. ‘We know who it is, Mum. It’s not a
someone
. It’s Flowerdew – it
has
to be. But he killed the policeman who was checking the mail, not me.’
‘And a package arrived at school,’ cried Chloe. ‘I saw it! It was addressed to Dr Dart. The academy was evacuated . . .’
‘And a fire has killed poor John Watkins,’ finished Jude.
‘He got a parcel too,’ said Itch.
‘Are there more?’ asked Chloe. ‘Have they stopped now?’
Jack tensed, but Itch held her arm. ‘There were three packages,’ he said. ‘They checked with the parcel firm.’
‘So we’re safe now?’
Itch stared at the charred house and at the sombre police and fire crew, quietly going about their business.
‘Doesn’t really feel like it,’ he said.
10
The six divers stood in front of the two oilmen. Leila, Chika, Aisha, Sade, Dada and Tobi took it in turns to tell their stories. In the heat and stink of the basement, they spoke of how they had come to work for Greencorps, fallen in with Shivvi and become the best diving team in the company’s history. And then how they had been disbanded, sacked and their leader punished.
‘We know she was a bitch,’ said Leila. ‘We know she was a criminal – but she looked after us better than you did.’ She crouched in between the sweating Revere and Van Den Hauwe. ‘Imagine that. A convicted criminal looking after Greencorps employees better than the company itself. You must be so proud.’
A muffled sound came from the Dutchman. It was the best he could manage with his socks in his mouth.
Leila nodded. ‘I’ll take that to mean you’re very sorry and wish to make amends for your sins.’
He nodded.
‘And that the two million dollars will be transferred today.’
He nodded again.
‘And that you’ll resign from Greencorps. Also today.’
They both nodded.
She stood up and faced her colleagues. ‘We are done here. Dada, stay and watch them. Let’s get to work.’ The divers filed out, Chika making sure she kicked both men on her way out.
Revere and Van Den Hauwe stared at their remaining captor; with shaved head and large hoop earrings, she stared straight back at them. It looked as though both men wanted to talk, both straining against their ropes.
‘I wouldn’t bother,’ said Dada. ‘Divers know how to tie knots. It’ll all be over soon anyway.’ She sat on a stool and picked up a magazine. Eventually the men were silent.
Outside, the Lagos traffic was a distant rumble. Inside, the only sounds were the oilmen’s heavy breathing and the rustle of Dada’s magazine. The temperature was stifling and both men appeared to be asleep. Until a voice said, ‘I’d leave, if I was you.’ Then they were wide awake.
Dada jumped up, dropping her magazine, a diving knife appearing in her hand. ‘Who the hell . . .? Oh God . . . no.’ She shrank back into her chair, reaching for her phone.
‘Most unwise, sweetheart,’ said Nathaniel Flowerdew, and pointed a gun at her head. She looked at it, then at the heavily bandaged face, and dropped the knife. Both hands went in the air. ‘Better,’ he said. ‘Which one are you, by the way? Shivvi did tell me about her little gang of divers, but I never took much notice . . .’
Dada swore viciously in Malay and Flowerdew laughed.
‘Ah yes, I remember Shivvi telling me to do that too. Oh well – no matter,’ and he turned to the trussed and panicking oilmen. ‘You can still tell who I am, then . . .’ He indicated his bandaged face and arm. ‘Despite my . . . clever disguise.’ He grabbed Dada’s stool and placed it in front of Revere and Van Den Hauwe. ‘I am Dr Nathaniel
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