“You don’t have to, Detective Cross. I can’t offer you anything here. It’s a risk I would take for myself but not for my congregation. However, I can take you to our men’s shelter. There’s a five-night maximum, and it’s no hotel—”
“I’ll take it. Thank you,” I told the priest.
“As for your mysterious Tiger, I’m in less of a position to help.”
“I understand.” I was sorely disappointed but tried not to show it.
Father Bombata held up a hand. “You think quickly, don’t you? Maybe sometimes your mind works too fast. What I was going to say was that I can’t help you there. But I do know someone who might.
“My cousin, actually. She’s the most beautiful woman in Nigeria. But of course I’m biased. You be your own judge.”
Chapter 74
HER NAME WAS Adanne Tansi, and, as promised by the priest, she was one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen in person. She was also a reporter with the Guardian, Lagos’s biggest newspaper.
Her office was maybe 6 × 8, if that. As I entered, I only hoped that I didn’t smell like I’d just spent the night in a crowded homeless shelter.
Over the next hour, Adanne told me that she had been covering the original Tiger and his gang for two years, but he was still something of a shadow figure.
“I am not certain there is more than one Tiger. But I have heard the rumor too. This could be gangster myth. Who knows, maybe he spreads it himself. Anyway, who can tell what a man like that could do to the newspaper if he wanted to.”
“Or to a reporter?” I asked.
She shrugged. “Some things are worth more than a life. You’re here, aren’t you? You’re taking chances with your life?”
I smiled. “I guess I am.”
I found that I couldn’t take my eyes away from Adanne Tansi, though I tried not to be rude. She was stunning in the manner of some actresses, and it was impossible not to notice her high cheekbones and her dark doelike eyes but also the way she carried herself. She seemed unafraid, and I wondered why that was so. She had much to lose but carried it lightly.
She picked up a pen. It had escaped me that she had a pad at hand among the mess of other papers at her work area.
“No notes,” I said. “This isn’t an interview. I’m just a tourist here. That’s been made very clear to me.”
Adanne immediately put the pen down, smiling as though she had had to at least give it a try.
I went on. “Do you have any sense of where the Tiger is now? Or any idea how I could find out?”
“No to the first,” she said. “And I believe so to the second.”
Chapter 75
I WAITED BUT she left it at that. After a few seconds, I realized that in Lagos even a newspaper office was a marketplace.
“In exchange for what?” I finally asked her.
Adanne smiled again. She was very coy—and clever. “A good story about an American detective looking for a criminal and murderer like the Tiger—that would be hard not to print.”
I put my hands on the arms of my chair, ready to go. “No.”
Suddenly her eyes were locked onto mine. “Detective Cross, do you realize how much good could come from a story like this? This human monster is responsible for hundreds of deaths, maybe more.”
“I know,” I said, working hard to keep my voice in check. “One of them was a friend of mine.”
“And one was my brother,” said Adanne. “So you can see why I want to write this story.”
Her words resonated in the small room. She wasn’t angry, just measured, and, within that, passionate.
“Ms. Tansi—”