The address led me to a small café.
I arrived early.
Mostly because I didn't know what I was walking into.
Also because I didn't want to be the guy who arrived late to his own potential kidnapping.
I sat at the corner.
Ten minutes passed.
Then she walked in.
White shirt.
Blue jeans.
Simple.
No drama.
She looked around the café.
Then her eyes met mine.
She walked over.
“Are you him?”
I nodded.
“Are you Amara?”
She nodded.
We sat down.
For a few seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then she said:
“You still have the money?”
I almost laughed.
“Good afternoon to you too.”
She smiled.
“Sorry.”
“You're welcome.”
She looked around.
“Did anyone follow you?”
“No.”
“You're sure?”
“Yes.”
She sighed.
“Good.”
I leaned forward.
“Now explain.”
She looked at me.
“The ₦10 million was supposed to go to my boss.”
“Okay.”
“He asked me to transfer it.”
“So?”
“I made a mistake.”
“You typed my account number?”
“No.”
“Then how did it reach me?”
She hesitated.
“I don't know.”
I stared at her.
“You don't know?”
She shook her head.
“I entered the correct account number.”
I frowned.
“So how did it come to me?”
She looked down.
“That is what I'm trying to find out.”
I leaned back.
“So basically, you accidentally sent me ₦10 million…”
“Yes.”
“…but you don't know how?”
“Yes.”
“And now someone is threatening you?”
“Yes.”
I nodded slowly.
“This is probably the worst financial mistake in Nigerian history.”
She laughed.
For the first time, she relaxed.
Then she looked at me.
“There is something else.”
“What?”
“The account the money was supposed to enter…”
She paused.
“…wasn't a personal account.”
I frowned.
“Whose account was it?”
She looked around again.
“A company account.”
“Which company?”
She told me the name.
I knew it immediately.
One of the biggest companies in the country.
I stared at her.
“Why would they send ₦10 million to a company account?”
She didn't answer.
Then her phone rang.
She looked at the screen.
Her face changed.
“Who is it?”
“My boss.”
“Answer.”
She shook her head.
“Why?”
“Because he thinks the money reached him.”
I stared at her.
“What?”
“He hasn't realized it came to you yet.”
Before I could respond, another message came to my phone.
WE KNOW YOU ARE WITH AMARA.
I looked at her.
She saw the message.
Her face went pale.
Then another message arrived.
DON'T LET HER LEAVE THE CAFE.
I looked toward the entrance.
Three men had just walked in.
All wearing black.
Amara grabbed my arm.
“Don't look at them.”
“Why?”
“Because I know them.”
“Who are they?”
She whispered:
“My boss's security.”
I swallowed.
“Why would your boss send security?”
She looked at me.
“Because…”
She paused.
“…he knows I didn't make a mistake.”
I stared at her.
“What do you mean?”
She leaned closer.
“The money wasn't accidentally sent to you.”
I frowned.
“Then why was it sent to me?”
She looked directly into my eyes.
“Because somebody wanted you to have it.”
I couldn't speak.
Then she said something that made absolutely no sense.
“You were supposed to receive that money three months ago.”
I laughed.
“Amara, I've never met you before.”
“I know.”
“Then how could I have been expecting it?”
She looked at me.
“You weren't.”
She reached into her handbag.
Pulled out a photograph.
And placed it on the table.
It was a picture of me.
Standing beside her.
Smiling.
I stared at it.
I had never seen the picture before.
But there was one problem.
The photograph was dated…
six months earlier.
TO BE CONTINUED…
39
