Chapter 40Walking down the sandy road toward the nearest bus stop, Rasheed was in no mood for company. He was in the mood for revenge. The Kartz woman had meant trouble since the day she arrived in Bamako. He had it all planned beforehand—Richard had been expendable, a liability really. The way she had weaselled her way into Hjamal’s business was incredible. She was devious, unbearably stubborn—like a rabid dog, she wouldn’t let go of you once she got hold of your ankle.
The honking of a bus drew Rasheed out of his thoughts. He climbed aboard and gave the driver the only bill he had in his pocket—100 CFA. He knew it would not be enough to get him to Dakar.
“That’s not enough.” the driver said. “Where you going?”
“Dakar.” Rasheed replied flatly.
“Well, unless you have a hundred more of
