27: Discoveries

HIS LIFE WENT ON; a monotony of work and more work.

His only break was the now irregular coffee breaks with Jordan. Breaking news about Ruby's demise had started to trickle, hence the reason for meeting often was coming to a close.

They eventually learned how Ruby found the Somerset address.

The OSI agents checked her car's GPS as part of their investigation. Tracing her movements, they saw that she had visited Somerset twice in the month before her untimely death. She had, by their reckoning, followed Pence to the address.

The income from the auctioned items, which were proceeds of stolen medicine, were returned to the USAID's coffers.

Despite the hush-hush nature of the investigation, facts still leaked to the press. Several exposés featured in The Guardian and The New York Post. Soon, CNN and the BBC were sending seasoned investigative reporters to Kenya, Nairobi, Zimbabwe, and every African nation in between, to cover the story.

With all the hullabaloo, the most impacted victims were the needy since the knee-jerk reaction had been to freeze all aid until everything was sorted and re-evaluated. In the meantime, more preventable deaths continued to occur on a regular basis.


IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE THE FIRST DAY OF SPRING. Supposed to be, because it still felt like the middle of winter.

They braved the cold and sat drinking their tea and coffee, respectively, alfresco.

'So, what's up, mate?' Jordan asked.

'Not much.'

'Well, my tour of duty here is coming to an end, so to speak.'

'Really, where are they sending you next?'

'You wouldn't believe it, Australia.'

White laughed. 'Don't believe the marketing scam, mate. There's nothing Down Under. You're better off freezing your ass here.'

Before Jordan could reply, a woman, petite and delicate pulled a chair and joined them uninvited.

'Excuse me?' they both said at once. With a large pair of sunglasses perched on her nose, they couldn't make her facial features out fully. So large were they, they seemed to cover half her face.

She smiled and took a sip out of White's tea. She put the china back on the saucer before saying, 'I heard through the grapevine that you were looking for me.'

The men were stunned.

This woman didn't look like she could hurt a fly.

She crossed her legs. She was wearing thick, striped, knee-high socks. A light-blue woollen scarf and pink beanie protected her neck and head from the cold. Assuming she was wearing three layers of clothes, this woman didn't weigh more than a hundred pounds.

'I tried to save her,' she said. 'I actually thought she had got away.'

'Who are you?' Jordan asked.

'I'm with Interpol. The man who shot Ruby was someone I've been tracking for a couple of years. His name is Raqish Ameni. Don't let the name fool you; he's Aussie.'

She turned to Jordan, 'You might bump into him during his occasional visits to Sydney. These days, Raqish doesn't stay in one place for longer than a few days.'

'How'd you …?'

She shushed Jordan with a finger, 'I have my sources.'

Turning to White, she said, 'Don't ever think of relocating to Australia. If you want revenge, you have a higher chance of bumping into him here.'

She got up to walk away.

'What's your name?' they asked simultaneously.

Without turning around, she replied, 'Just call me Pinky.'