He’d still been in bed when she’d arrived this morning. It was just before seven, and she’d let herself in. Like all bedsits, there was no actual bedroom. In the case of this bedsit, there was merely a fairly deep alcove where one could keep a futon, a mattress or some other furniture. He appeared to use an IKEA bed covered with a sleeping bag for his nightly slumber. She could see the top of his smooth, shaved head as she moved with near silence to the window.
She tilted the venetian blinds to give herself a good view of the street. She’d planned carefully. She only hoped she’d been careful enough.
Shortly before eight, Easter showed up, as expected, coming from the direction of Ridley Road. Before she reached Kingsland Toys, Games, and Books, however, she was caught up by a woman with a child in tow. The three of them finished the walk in each other’s company, the women talking intensely with their heads together, as the child with them looked about. Adaku froze. At first she discounted what she was seeing, telling herself that the other woman was merely a friend of Easter’s, yet the presence of the child suggested to Adaku that her long-range plan was already happening and it was happening directly in front of her. She was astonished at such a piece of luck.
Easter unlocked the door that would allow access to the flats on the second and third floors of the building. She held the door open for her two companions, making a “you first” gesture. When the woman and child had entered, Easter then looked right and left and across the street, which made Adaku quickly drop her fingers from the venetian blinds covering Dickon’s window. But she didn’t move from the window itself, so she was able to see Easter go into the building and close the door behind her.
Adaku stood still and silent. This was not how anything was supposed to happen, not according to how she’d developed the plan. But if she made no move now—when conditions were astonishingly perfect—would she ever have another chance like this one?
She pictured how long everything would take. She went through preliminaries as she envisioned them. Then she fumbled in her skirt for her mobile, and she made the call.
“Kingsland High Street,” she said when her call was answered. “It’s time. Now.”
That done, she placed the key to Dickon’s bedsit on top of his electronic keyboard. Quietly, she let herself out and descended the stairs. On the pavement once again, she went to her earlier observation spot at Rio Cinema. She wanted to be there watching when Easter and the others were taken from the building and hauled to the nick. The women would lie and deny, of course. But everyone was more than ready for that.
MAYVILLE ESTATE
DALSTON
NORTH-EAST LONDON
That night Tani found it impossible to sleep. The heat in the bedroom was deadly, which was bad enough. His brain wouldn’t quiet down, which was worse. Near teatime, Abeo and Simisola had preceded Monifa into the flat, and it seemed to Tani that whatever had brought them to Mayville Estate in a group, it was not good. Abeo’s “Get out of my sight” was accompanied by a slap against the back of Monifa’s head as she moved past him in the direction of the kitchen. As for Simi, she went to their bedroom and didn’t say another word from tea onward.
Tani had been lying there sleepless for hours, listening to Simi’s breathing from across the room, so he was fully awake when the whispering began, long after midnight. There’d been whispering before—the flat’s walls were tissue paper—but generally he could ignore it. This time, though, it sounded fierce, like a bitter argument being kept under wraps. When a low cry from his mother was cut off suddenly, he sat up and swung his legs out of bed.
He padded to the bedroom door and eased it open. He listened more carefully. He heard his father’s voice. He hadn’t ever before heard such fury expressed in a whisper. “You will not defy me, Monifa.”
“Why will you never try to understand?”
“What did you say to me?”
Monifa’s tone shifted at once, becoming conciliatory, even weepy. “Abeo, I cannot allow—”
“You will do what I say. This costs a pittance.”
“But everything cannot be about money.”
“If you dare to disobey me, Monifa, I swear before God—”
“Please. You must listen to me.”
“You do not question my decisions. I have heard enough.”
“You have not. How much do you expect to receive as a bride price if Simisola is dead? Sometimes I think you will not see things as they truly are. You can’t—” A rush of footsteps and then she cried out, “No! Abeo! Stop it!”