Sisilu pressed the revolver against her ribs and shoved her roughly into the passenger seat. He threw the Prado into reverse and stomped on the accelerator, catapulting them backward down the dirt lane. After a short distance, he made a jarring turn into an alley strung with clotheslines and slammed on the brakes. When the SUV came to rest, Zoe could barely see the lane through the curtains of hanging garments. She felt her iPhone vibrating again—
Without warning Sisilu put the barrel of the gun against her head. Her heart stopped, then nearly jumped out of her chest. The odor of his breath turned her stomach.
“You do not listen very well,” he said, pulling the hammer back until it clicked.
She closed her eyes, certain this was the end.
Then the moment passed and he went on: “You think you can hide behind your boyfriend and his badge. You think your Embassy friends can protect you. You think your father, the Senator, can protect you. You are wrong. This is Africa. There is no place I can’t reach you. If you continue to meddle in matters that don’t concern you, someone will die.”
He drove the butt of the revolver hard into her temple, and stars exploded in her vision even as darkness swept over her. Something thumped, then a hand pushed her, and she felt like she was falling. She saw another meteoric shower of stars.
Then everything went black.
The first thing she heard was an echo. The sound repeated and she realized it was her name. She jolted in fear, then recognized the voice—it was Joseph. She groaned. Her head felt as if a spike had been driven into it. Her senses slowly returned. She was lying on her side in the dirt. Something colorful was fluttering above her—a bolt of chitenge. She saw Joseph’s face hovering over her. He was saying something. The words echoed in her brain. At once she understood.
“What happened? Who did this to you?”
She groaned again and sat up. The splitting pain in her head intensified. She opened her eyes wider and saw that the alley was empty, except for Joseph’s truck. She massaged her face and looked at him. His dark eyes were fraught with anxiety.
“Dunstan Sisilu,” she said at last.
“What?” Joseph hissed. “I watched for a tail.”
“He was driving a gray Prado.”
“Can you stand?” he said with sudden urgency. “We need to get out of here.”
She gave him her arm and lurched to her feet. “He knows everything,” she said, leaning on him until she got to the truck. “You, the Prentices, my father. He put a gun to my head and told me if I didn’t leave this alone, someone would end up dead.”
He helped her into the vehicle and then said, “Just a minute. I need to check something.”
She sat heavily in the passenger seat and closed her eyes. He was gone a few seconds, then he climbed in and placed something on her lap. She looked down and saw a compact piece of black plastic about the size of a mobile phone.
“What is it?” she asked, not understanding.
“A GPS tracking unit. It was under the bumper.” Joseph started the engine and pulled out into the lane. “You remember when we were in Livingstone? Sisilu seemed to know everywhere we were. I figured I must not have been paying attention. I was paying attention today. “I should have thought of this sooner.”
“You’re saying he put one of these things on our rental car?”
“It would have been easy to do.”
She felt a sliver of dread. “Do you think he put one on my Land Rover?”
“I’m certain of it. It explains why you couldn’t find the housekeeper at Shoprite.”
“What should we do?” she asked, fingering the device.
“I think we leave the units alone. Let him think we don’t know. Unless we want to disguise our movements. Then we leave them at home.”
She had a terrifying thought. “He knows everything. All our witnesses …”
He glanced at her, his expression grave. “From now on, we need to be very careful.”
chapter 21
The next morning, Joseph gave the response team a report on the interrogation of Dr. Amos and its violent aftermath, including the discovery of the GPS tracking unit on his truck and a second unit on Zoe’s Land Rover. Zoe sat beside him at the table, nursing a headache that no amount of Tylenol could alleviate. Mariam had insisted she take the day off, but she had no interest in sympathy. In spite of the discomfort, she was determined to enjoy the moment. The nganga’s story had not only lent credence to her theory about Bella’s past, it had given shape to a story that once had seemed incomprehensible.
“Unless I’m missing something,” Mariam said, “we have a case again. But we need to take precautions. The Nyambos are going to do everything they can to hurt us.”
Sarge nodded. “You should talk to the security company about posting a night guard.”
“I’ll do that today,” Mariam replied, making a note to herself. “And the rest of us should check our vehicles. If we’re being watched, we need to know about it.”
“This is all well and good,” Niza said, “but I don’t think the evidence is there yet. Amos didn’t identify the prostitute. Nor did he know about Kuyeya. We have to make the link.”
Zoe shook her head painfully. “Doris can testify about Bella and Darious.”