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got a wife. She’s got a car. Renault 5 Turbo. Fast, comfortable.’
    â€˜Carole’s been under enough strain as it is.’
    â€˜What are we going to do in Grand-Popo?’ I asked. ‘The beach is nice.’
    â€˜I’m going to meet somebody.’
    â€˜For dinner. I’ve heard the Auberge isn’t bad. Better for lunch, though.’
    â€˜Perhaps. I’ve taken a small house so we’ll have some privacy.’
    â€˜Who are you meeting? If that’s not too intrusive.’
    â€˜A man from Togo. That’s all you need to know.’
    â€˜But we’re going to meet in this house you’ve taken, not out on some open piece of wasteland in the dark. I don’t like those kind of meeting places and I’ve been to a few in my time.’
    â€˜Now you’re adhering to that little self-knowledge of yours.’
    â€˜And why not?’
    â€˜Don’t worry, I’m in no condition to be stumbling around in the dark.’
    â€˜When do we go?’
    â€˜Tomorrow. You’ll be told what time. Make the whole day available ... and night,’ he said, standing and taking a bent brown envelope from his back pocket. ‘This is the first half. Two hundred and fifty thousand CFA. The rest when we get back to Cotonou. That is your rate? Two hundred and fifty thousand a day?’
    He stubbed out the cigarette and picked up the revolver and mobile phone. He stuffed the revolver into his waistband and pocketed the phone.
    â€˜We’re still connected,’ he said, patting his phone. ‘I’ll let you have your line back in five minutes. It’s been a pleasure, Bruce.’
    â€˜Jean-Luc,’ I said, and we shook hands.
    He left and I put the phone back on the hook. I went out on to the balcony and watched him appear underneath me. He glanced up and nodded. He hailed a
taxi moto
and just about managed to get his leg over the back of it. He waved without turning round and the moped wobbled off into the orange-lit pollution of the city. I waited five minutes and put my call through to Carlo in the Hotel de la Plage.
    We met in the booze section of the supermarket. I told him what he wanted to know and that if he was going to follow he’d better be discreet but keep close because if it was going to happen it might be sudden and it might not be in Grand-Popo. Carlo fingered the bottles and nodded with his bottom lip between his teeth.
    â€˜You want to tell me how to do my job some more?’ he asked.
    I picked two bottles of white wine off the shelf.
    â€˜You didn’t tell me he’d taken a beating since the photograph.’
    â€˜He has?’
    â€˜He’s a mess,’ I said.
    Carlo tutted, shook his head.
    â€˜Machete attack in Liberia,’ I said, as we walked past the fruit on the way to the checkout. ‘Lucky to survive.’
    â€˜Mr Franconelli said he was a hard man.’
    â€˜They tell me the peaches are good.’
    â€˜Maybe I’ll get a kilo,’ said Carlo.
    â€˜You do that.’

Chapter 7
    I got back home at 8 p.m. with the two bottles of Sancerre. Heike was in and on the iced water. I joined her and she served me with a raised eyebrow.
    â€˜I don’t
mind
watching you get off your face, you know,’ she said.
    â€˜Maybe I mind,’ I said. ‘Don’t want you to see something you don’t like.’
    â€˜Something I’ve never seen before?’ she said, snaking an arm around my neck, crushing me into a kiss.
    â€˜I was going to say ... something that could sneak out after I’ve had a few which you’ve never noticed before, being in the same condition, as you are most of the time you’re with me.’
    â€˜You think I could stay young and beautiful drinking the way you do?’ she said, stroking my face hard, trying to iron out those creases.
    â€˜I was also going to say that sobriety’s a very unforgiving state.’
    â€˜Then you must