‘The plane’s registered to someone called Mutombo. Emmanuel Mutombo.’

19

      ‘No way Maddison, you’ve lost your mind.’ Marvin Menga stared and despaired and appealed to his daughter as they stood in the large pretty bedroom of the Arizona house she and Cooper had bought after they’d got married. ‘Put that stuff down and listen… Maddie, I’m talking to you.’

      Maddie turned to her father. ‘I’ve got to pack… Cora! Hey, Cora, are you coming to help me put my clothes in?’

      Like a whirlwind, Cora Cooper ran through. Went straight up to Maddie’s open suitcase. Dropped in what she held in her hands. ‘Here you are, I thought they could keep you company.’

      ‘Baby they’re worms!’

      ‘Don’t be silly. They’re not worms, Mommy, they’re magic. Shall I go and get some more?’

      ‘No, it’s fine honey, I think I’ve got enough magic there don’t you?’ Maddie paused looked at her father. ‘Actually, Cora, why don’t you go and get Grandpappy some magic. I think he needs some to make him smile.’

      With a nod and a skip, Cora bounced out of the bedroom.

      ‘I don’t want you going. Not to there. There’s no way you’re going.’

      ‘Daddy, that’s the second time somebody’s said that to me today. The first time it didn’t make any difference and it’s not going to this time.’

      Patting down his neatly cut afro, Marvin sat on the bed harder than he’d intended to. Knocked the pile of clothes right off. ‘What can I say to stop you?’

      ‘There isn’t anything you can say.’

      ‘What if I told you that I won’t look after Cora if you go?’

      ‘Then I know that wouldn’t be really you speaking. I’ve got to do this. Don’t make it harder.’

      Marvin sighed. ‘Why?’

      ‘Tom can’t go on his own. He’s not in a good place.’

      Those words were all that was needed for Marvin to lose his cool.

      ‘He’s not in a good place? Can I remind you Maddison it was less than a week ago when I had to come and pick you up from the floor in the middle of nowhere? And why did I? Because of that man. Yet it’s him who’s not in a good place. I bet he hasn’t even noticed how cut up you are. Was this his idea, for you to go along and hold his hand?’

      ‘No. In fact he didn’t want me to go.’

      ‘Doesn’t surprise me. He probably wants to go and disappear like he always does. To hell with responsibilities.’

      Quiet, real quiet, Maddie said, ‘Daddy, he can’t do anything right in your eyes, can he? He said as much.’

      ‘Well at least he and I agree on something. I don’t know why you had to pick a man like him.’

      ‘Don’t start this again.’

      ‘You could’ve stayed in Mississippi and caught yourself a decent man. A church-going man.’

      ‘You make it sound like a fishing trip. And I would’ve been happy staying back at home?’

      ‘Well you made it clear enough by running off and getting some unsuitable job.’

      It was Maddie’s turn to sigh. ‘I didn’t run off, you know that, and joining the Navy was hardly unsuitable.’

      ‘It is for a woman.’

      ‘What is wrong with you Daddy?’

      ‘Me? I’m not the one trying to prove something. You’re a mother, Maddison, you need to remember that.’

      ‘Sorry, have I just suddenly time-travelled to a different century? Why is it when men want to do certain things or certain jobs it’s accepted or maybe they’re even admired for it, but when women do these things it suddenly becomes a question of us wanting to prove ourselves? You need to get it into your head that I’m just good at my job – better than a lot of men I know. Plus I enjoy it. Period. I don’t need to prove anything.’

      ‘Maddie, I’m not talking about proving yourself with your job. I’m talking about proving to yourself you can go back to the DRC after what happened to you.’

      Maddie froze. Dead still. Closed her eyes. ‘That was a long time ago and it’s got nothing to do with it.’

      ‘I think it has, I think…’

      ‘Just stop, Daddy. I love you but you don’t know everything.’

      ‘I do know you don’t have to do this.’

      ‘I do, and I’m going to, and nothing you say will change my mind. Now let’s just leave it at that.’

20

      ‘Hey.’

      ‘Look, if you’ve come here for a fight, don’t bother. Oh, and don’t bother trying to change my mind about coming either.’

      Cooper tilted his head as he stood at the kitchen door of Maddie’s house. Their house. ‘No, I come in peace. Here, I even brought you a donut from Mac’s diner… Thought I’d come to see how you were getting on with the research. Sorry, I left it for you. Had a few things to sort out.’

      Looking up from her computer screen, Maddie gave a half smile. Ignored the way her tummy had butterflies when she looked at him. ‘It’s as I thought, I can’t get any kind of information from the authorities over there. They’re notoriously secretive, and pretty paranoid. The contacts we’ve got over there have drawn a blank. Not that it really matters, because the likelihood of them having a record of a small plane is zero to none. And from what I hear, their aviation department has troubles of their own. It’s not looking good for them.’

      ‘What do you mean?’

      ‘Well for a start, the Democratic Republic of Congo has one of the world’s worst aviation safety records. Did you know the majority of their airlines are banned from entering any EU airspace because of failing to meet regulatory standards? Also, one of the main DRC airlines – connected to the government, incidentally – have had a couple of planes impounded for non-payment themselves. They’ve been impounded over in South Africa after a court order. To release them, they’re looking at well over thirty mill. So it looks like they’re in the same boat as our Emmanuel Mutombo. So getting any sort of help from them just isn’t about to happen.’

      Taking a bite from one of the sugared donuts, Cooper sat down. ‘What about international data records? See if it’s been flown out of the country.’

      ‘Usual story. Like trying to find a pin in the ocean. You know the score. It’s one thing tracking down a commercial airliner – though that’s not altogether easy – but when someone’s flying a private plane, the ability to track it has so many variables. It’ll depend on location and the routing of their flight, and of course if the flight has been filed by the pilot, which in this case it won’t have. My guess is, if this Emmanuel guy did fly it he would’ve blocked the aircraft tail number.’

      ‘In other words, impossible to trace.’

      ‘Totally. Here in the States the Federal Aviation Administration requires all aircraft to have a visible