The Boy in the River by Richard Hoskins

high, but distant, God – Olorun (also called Olodumare). According to their traditions, Olurun commanded Orishala to create the earth, but he was delayed in this act of creation, so his younger brother Odudwe completed the work. Subsequently a further sixteen deities, known as orishas, descended to the earth. Many other orishas were added to the pantheon later on. The orishas are extremely important in Yoruban religion, for they act as the bridge between this world and higher realms. Some say there are 401 of them, but many Yorubans believe there are far more. Most of them are ancestors – living dead who had lived such great lives that they were elevated to the status of gods and now have huge power and influence. Each and every orisha has his or her own favourite colours, foods, drinks, plants, animals, precious metals, stones and feast days, and the delight of one could be the poison of another.
    All the orishas require sacrifice. Not necessarily human sacrifice, of course, and especially not nowadays, but there was no doubt that the practice persisted in some deviant offshoots of Yoruban religion, especially, so it was rumoured, in Edo State in the south-west of Nigeria, and among their near-neighbours the Igbo.
    I had other reasons to link Adam to the Yoruba area.
    Yoruban males are circumcised soon after birth. I remembered the footage I had seen of a naming ceremony on the outskirts of Lagos a few years earlier. The circumcision that accompanied the service had welcomed the child into the family of Yorubans. Small offerings of salt and gin were made to the living, the dead and the relevant orisha . The infant whose circumcision I had seen was only a few days old. By the time he was Adam’s age the scar would have healed completely – just as Adam’s had.
    Marshalling the facts in this way fortified me. I turned away from the river and headed with renewed determination towards the Strand.
    I found Will and Nick already ensconced in armchairs in the Wellington pub with pints of lager in front of them. Nick passed me a bottle of San Miguel and an envelope. ‘Two economy tickets to Holland.’
    ‘Thanks.’ I slid it into my pocket. ‘It’s really useful for me to have Faith alongside, but I was a bit uncomfortable about asking.’
    ‘Don’t give it a thought,’ Will said. ‘It works out cheaper than one business-class fare in any case. We just have to be a bit careful how these things look.’
    I raised an eyebrow.
    ‘It’s the media,’he said. ‘Have you seen what the papers have to say about this South Africa trip? You can’t win. If you don’t pursue leads they accuse you of not working hard enough, but when you do they say you’re off on some overseas junket at the public’s expense. It’s to be expected, of course. But the fact remains that we’ll have to come up with something fairly soon, or people will start making a serious fuss about police time and resources.’
    ‘I might be able to help,’ I said. ‘I think I know what sort of killing this was.’
    He sat very still.
    ‘Will, I’m almost sure it was a sacrifice.’
    The detectives looked at each other and then back at me.
    ‘Sacrifice?’ Will said. ‘How does that make a difference? The poor kid’s still dead, when all’s said and done.’
    ‘No, Will, it’s critical. Look, muti – that’s just harvesting. It’s the collection of parts to be used in medicine. But sacrifice is different. It’s all about the pouring out of the blood. It creates a transferral of power in the minds of those performing it.’
    I explained that a sacrifice required much more preparation than a muti murder. It had to conform to established rituals, from the selection of the victim through to the ceremony itself and the deposition of the remains. There had to be a group involved – at least a handful of people, and maybe quite a few. ‘It makes sense of everything we know,’ I insisted. ‘Like the shorts being placed on the torso after