I LOOKED OUT the window as the Qatar airbus a350-1000 made its final approach into Muritala Mohammed Airport Lagos, Nigeria. I could only see the plane's wing. The plane dropped below the low cloud cover and I looked through the now-rain-streaked window and saw densely packed houses with reddish brown roofs and traffic clogged roads.
A moment later the plane touched down and the engines reversed.
The seatbelt sign turned off and the door opened. Air attendants were wishing us a happy stay at Nigeria and thanking us for flying with them. I stepped out of the plane. The first thing I noticed was the harsh sun. It hit my face hard. I put on my sunshades and went to the baggage claim. As I waited for my luggage to come out, I realised I had no idea what I was doing. I had no lead where I could start from. Maybe chasing this case was a mistake. I could just become a tourist on vacation.
I walked to the gate to wait for my escort.
"Mr. Jackson?"
Nobody should be allowed beyond the gates. I turned to see a young lady walking towards me in perfect strides.
"Miss Davis. Joan Davis. " She said, extending her hand. "Your Nigerian escort."
I didn't know what to expect when Charles said he'd have an escort waiting for me. But I surely didn't expect a young female beauty.
She was taller than average but not tall enough to be called a giant. She had smooth brown skin and nice eyes. I took her hand in a firm handshake and couldn't help but notice her breasts. She had nice breasts. This was going to be harder than I thought. I removed my shades.
"Clayton Jackson. But you know that already, don't you?"
She nodded once. Her mouth firm.
"Yes. I'll take you to the car."
I followed her, dragging my bag into the terminal which was very busy. Muritala Mohammed Airport was easily the biggest airport in Nigeria.
We moved to short term parking lot. Back in the sun. I squinted and put on my shades as I took in the vast ranks of automobiles standing under the sun.
We walked to an SUV. A Ford. I put my luggage in the trunk and got in the front seat with Joan.
"So, you grew up here?" I asked, trying to kick start a conversation.
She stayed quiet for a while as she tried to manoeuvre her way out of the parking lot. Then she said, "Yes. I was born here in Lagos."
I was born somewhere in Nigeria too but I got shipped out to live with my aunt and her husband in Detroit.
"Where are we headed?"
"Mr. Charles got you an apartment in Ikoyi. That's about forty five minutes from here. It could be longer, depending on the traffic."
I relaxed in my seat. Not enough legroom. But I managed. I reclined the seat a bit and settled down for a long ride.
I MUST have dozed off because I snapped to consciousness as the car bounced into a porthole.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."
Her face didn't leave the road.
I stretched my neck and checked the speedometer and looked at the time on the dashboard. We should be close. I snapped the seat back in place.
"In the glove compartment are your necessary items. Drivers license, ATM card, National ID and other stuffs you might need."
I opened the compartment and took out the brown envelope. I looked inside and didn't see a weapon.
"What of a gun?"
She looked at me like I spoke Latin.
"I'm not here on vacation, you know."
"I'll get you one."
I nodded at her and relaxed back, the brown envelope was resting on my lap.
"We did some background checks on Emeka Johnson" She said, swerving the car into a street. "He's related to Joe. Nephew or distant cousin."
"Did you find out what they are transporting?"
She said no. I couldn't hide the disappointment from my face. She noticed it and said, "Don't worry, we have something on them."
I wanted to ask what, but we had gotten to the entrance to an estate. A gateman poked his head out of the gate post. Joan lowered her window.
"Madam Jojo." He said and smiled showing yellow teeth.
"Good afternoon, Musa." She said, smiling back. She had not smiled at me before. "This is the new man that will be staying at Block D-15. He is Mr. Jackson."
Musa lowered his head to look at me from Joan's window. I nodded at him.
"Oga Jackson, sir." He said, and did a mock salute. That made me smile. He opened the gates and we drove into the estate.
THE ESTATE was divided into 4 blocks. A block contained up to 25 houses. That made a hundred houses in the estate. Not bad.
We drove to block D and apartment 15 which was a medium sized condo. Joan pulled the keys from her bag and handed it to me.
"Any security alarm?" I asked
"Those things are not so common in this country."
I opened the door and walked in to a well furnished living room. It had a wide flat screen TV on one wall and a large portrait painting on another. The lights were dim to give a welcoming atmosphere.
"Welcome to Nigeria, Clay."
My name sounded nice on her mouth. I told her thanks. I sat on the couch and then something happened. Joan sat next to me. As she sat, she pushed my leg to one side. It was a casual thing but it was very intimate and familiar.
The back of my brain suddenly screamed: she likes you. She likes you too. It was the way she touched my leg. Then she said,
"We have a man. He goes by the name, Ben. He has been seen partying with Emeka a couple of times. Its safe to say that they may be friends or even business partners."
"Where can I find him?" I asked, glad to finally have some good news.
"He's your next door neighbour."
That was double good news. I leaned back and suddenly realized that I was very tired. It was getting dark outside. Joan got up and said, "You'd better get some rest. I'll check up on you tomorrow."
I got up after her. Noticing her long legs.
"Where are you going?" I asked.
She looked at me like it was an odd question.
"Home, of course." She said. "I live in another part of town." She gave me a tired smile. The first smile at me.
"You look pretty when you smile."
She opened the door and stepped out. She turned and looked at me and said, "Get some rest." Then she winked and walked to the car.
I smiled and closed the door. I stripped and headed to the bathroom. I passed a full length mirror. I stopped and looked at myself for a minute. Flexing my muscles and showcasing my abs.
I stepped into the shower and turned on a blast of cold water. I stayed in there for a while, scrubbing and washing away the heat and sweat.
I dripped water all over the place as I moved to the bedroom and collapsed on the bed. King-sized. But I couldn't sleep. My body was yet to get used to the bed. I laid on my back naked.
I fantasised a vacation somewhere in the Caribbean. Maybe a little hut on an island beach. A lady to share it with. Joan kept drifting in the picture. I imagined her half naked body dancing under the moonlight and a large bon fire, while I smoked a pound of weed or beat a large taut leather drum or do whatever it is the native folks do
I had no idea when I fell asleep.