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The Oracle (Fargo Adventures 11)

Page 85

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“He wanted to know what village he’d come from.”

Makao, seeing Jimi slowly move his hand to his holstered gun, was torn between letting him kill Kambili and wanting to know what Fargo was up to. From everything he could tell, Fargo was a straight shooter, his business dealings above board. Why, then, would a man like that purposefully seek out a man like Kambili just to find out about one of his thieves?

It didn’t make sense—until he caught sight of Jimi’s injured arm. He looked down at his own bandaged hand, recalling how that girl had jabbed them both with the road spike as she raced out the door. Suddenly he wondered if Jimi had been mistaken about losing those keys. “One of your pickpockets?”

“My best one.”

“Where is this kid?”

Kambili seemed taken aback by the simple question. “Ran away. Two days ago, after he got caught trying to steal a Land Rover.”

“The man who killed your brothers was driving a Lan

d Rover,” Makao said. “Isn’t that right, Jimi?”

He nodded in agreement.

“Why would this man kill my brothers?”

“To pin it on me and start a war between us.”

“You expect me to believe that?”

“Why would I lie to you? We have an agreement, you and I. But I know how we can get back at him.”

“How?”

Makao smiled when Kambili lowered the gun. “Jimi, take the boys to lunch. And find someone to fix that door,” he said as rain splashed its threshold. “Mr. Kalu and I have some business to discuss.”

“What business?” Kambili asked after the other men left. He had, thankfully, put his gun away.

“About your pickpocket.” The cut on Makao’s hand started to throb with the memory of how she’d clawed him with that tire spike. “Tiny thing, darts around like a gazelle fleeing a cheetah?”

“Nash? He’s my best pickpocket.”

Which explained how she got the keys from Jimi. “That pickpocket was definitely a girl.”

Kambili stared a moment. “You sure we’re talking about the same boy?”

“Why else would the Fargos have taken her to a school for girls?”

“A girl … Always thought he was small. What about him—her?”

“Tell me everything you know about the kid.”

“Comes from a village up north. His—her uncle paid for her and some other boys to come here because of Boko Haram.”

“How do I find her uncle?”

“One of my boys, Chuk, came from the same village. They were friends.”

“Good. We’ll need him to get to the Fargos. Here’s my plan …”

CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

You may be disappointed if you fail,

but you are doomed if you don’t try.



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