He took a couple of pictures out of the envelope and showed them to him, along with a sheet of paper with the man’s information on it. Nassor lifted the picture. A man who looked good for his age, with the hint of a smile as he looked on. Must have been a picture for a professional badge or official ID. “Where is he?”
“About a year ago he sold his home and went to live in the south. Japor.”
Japor. The town bordered other African countries and was hard to get to, located in the middle of a primitive forest and near a reservation park. Why the hell had he gone there? And exactly the time after Mary’s death. “What else do you have on him?”
John pointed at the other documents, statements from the bank. “Ever since his divorce, he’s been in debt. He needed money.”
“Why would he try to get it from Mary Roberts? She was a middle-class American tourist. I doubt she had the means to pay his debt,” he said, making a mental note to ask Izzy about it.
“Because maybe he thought she had some. Talked to her online, saw her home, and decided to have her come here. If he went back to the U.S. with her, he could marry her and leave his debt behind.”
Nassor rubbed his chin. “I want you to bring Obasi to me. I need to question him in person,” he said. Because of the remote location of that city, the strenuous trip there would take a few days. He’d give John permission to use a royal jet, but once they arrived at the forest, they had to leave the bird behind and hike into town. Now that he was king, he couldn’t be away for that many days without alarming people.
“Will do, Your Majesty.”
“Thank you. As soon as you have him, text or call.” Since the king was the highest authority, anyone who had been summoned for questioning by the king would have to show up. No questions asked. “Don’t tell him what it’s about, I don’t want him coming up with several different strategies.”
“Of course.”
John stood and, with a small bow, left the room.
Guban knocked on the door and entered the office. “Don’t forget about the museum charity event, sir.”
Nassor sighed. He’d forgotten about tonight’s ball. To raise money for their upcoming art center, The Gwokon Museum of National History was giving a lavish ball. He had been able to decline many invitations, otherwise he wouldn’t get shit done. But this one was different—his presence at the ball would give the cause more exposure, therefore, more money.
He was too busy trying to fix healthcare and better the economy to worry about the arts, so the fact someone else wanted to do it was great.
“Of course. Be sure to get an invitation to Ms. Lima.” She’d appreciate the event at the museum. Maybe he’d sneak away from his duties and actually enjoy himself with Izzy.
Thankfully, cameras were allowed on the red carpet before the event but not inside.
Guban tugged at the collar of his gray shirt. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty, but I haven’t invited Ms. Lima because your mother specifically asked me not to.”
“She did, did she?”
“She said it would be an event more appropriate for locals due to the notoriety of the guests, and she’d hate for Ms. Lima to feel out of place.”
Frustration hit him like an old-fashioned gong, each time causing waves to reverberate through him. If his mother thought she could meddle in his affairs, she was dead wrong. First, introducing him to Morowa Peete when he’d specifically told her he didn’t want any matchmaking until after Izzy left. And now…this. He had to send his mother a clear signal she wouldn’t control any aspect of his life. He’d indulged her, maybe because a part of him understood she wanted to be cherished again. To fit in. Not at my expense. “I can’t think of anything else she’d hate more.”
Guban nodded.
“There’s been a change in plans, though. See to it that the stylist goes to Ms. Lima’s room immediately and gets her ready for tonight. She’s coming with me as my guest.”
“Your guest? Your Majesty, if I may, people will—”
“You may not.”
Color drained from his face. Guban shot him a tremulous smile. “Certainly, Your Highness.”
“Good. Call her room for me.”
“I would, but you have a web conference with the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom in about ten minutes.”
That meant he couldn’t tell her his findings about the man. He was sure that conversation would take much more than ten minutes. He’d have to wait until he saw her for the party.
…
Izzy looked at her reflection in the mirror.
