―An impossible murder combines with a marvellous story of a strange, possibly alien, odyssey around our present-day world… a gem of a thriller’ Adam Roberts, author of Lake of Darkness
An impossible death: Detective Ethan Krol has been called to the scene of a baffling murder:
a man and his son, who appear to have been drowned in sea-water. But the nearest ocean is a thousand miles away.
An improbable story: Hollie Rogers doesn’t want to ask too many questions of her new friend, Abi Eniola. Abi claims to be an ordinary woman from Nigeria, but her high-tech gadgets and extraordinary physical abilities suggest she’s not telling the whole truth.
An incredible quest: As Ethan’s investigation begins to point towards Abi, Hollie’s fears mount. For Abi is very much not who she seems. And it won’t be long before Ethan and Hollie find themselves playing a part in a story that spans cultures, continents… and centuries.
PRAISE FOR ESPERANCE:
‘A gripping, intricately plotted mystery which unravels its themes of justice, choices and consequence with huge assurance and flair’ = E. J. Swift, author of The Coral Bones
‘A tightly wound plot told from two divergent points of view that will keep you guessing in the best ways. If you’re a fan of SF mystery, ESPERANCE merges the best from both genres’ – Mike Mammay, author of Planetside
‘A police procedural genetically modified to include the best of science fiction, mystery, action, and suspense. With plot lines rooted in Africa, Britain, and North
America-all three legs of the brutal Triangular Trade- this page-burner earns its moral heft by engaging with one of the ugliest mass human abuses in the history of our planet and considering what enslavement might have looked like through another planet’s eyes.’ = Donna Glee Williams, author of The Night Field
One
Thursday the 3rd: 11.00 a.m. CDT
The lights dimmed and Ethan Krol thought it had begun.
His heart pounded in harmony with the uneven rattle of the elevator.
But it was just the lights.
The elevator doors wheezed open.
The twentieth-floor corridor of the Almeida Building, a seventies-era construct of concrete and tinted glass, was well maintained, anonymous. Yellow crime tape and the light blue of Chicago PD clashed garishly with the muted decor. Krol wrinkled his nose.
The passageway reeked of fish.
With a mumbled ‘Good morning’ to the uniform at the door, he stepped past the tape and into a neat, nicely accessorized apartment, pulling on a pair of latex gloves as he did so. The bright blue of Lake Michigan was clearly visible through the floor-to-ceiling windows. He drank the view in for a moment, steadying himself. Only then did he look down.
There were three bodies on the floor. Only two of which were human.
‘What the hell is that?’ he asked.
‘It’s a barracuda. Leastways, if you believe Carter over there.’ Detective Sergeant Raymond Yeung pointed a finger towards the uniform at the door. ‘Gotta be two-foot long if it’s an inch.’ He looked like he wanted to pick it up.
‘Uh-huh. And the other two?’ He fixed Yeung with a mildly reproachful stare. ‘You could have told me the quote-unquote, kid, was just a baby.’
‘Sorry, lieutenant.’
Ethan fought the urge to turn away. Dried the sudden pricking at the corner of his eyes.
‘Shoulda taken the day off.’ Yeung chuckled darkly.
‘Father and son. Kid’s name is Benedict Okoro.’
The baby looked like he was sleeping. He was stretched out on the hardwood floor surrounded by a small puddle of water. His caramel skin was smooth and unblemished, no sign of trauma. His clothes, little tee shirt and jeans, were wet but appeared otherwise undisturbed. If you stroked his dark, tightly curled hair, it was easy to imagine he would wake up.
‘About a year old by the look of him,’ Ethan murmured. ‘Sounds right. Father is Amadi Okoro, Nigerian, twenty-five-
years old. Med student at Northwestern.’
Amadi Okoro was a small man, maybe five-foot-seven but athletic in appearance. He was smartly dressed in a polo shirt and khakis. As with the boy, the clothes were wet, though the surrounding pool of water was considerably larger. In death, his velvety, asphalt skin was tinged with grey. It was several tones darker than his son’s.
‘Mother’s Caucasian I’m guessing.’
‘Yep. Jennifer Freeman Okoro. She was found unconscious in the bedroom. EMTs carted her off to Kindred. Uniform is posted at the bedside, so they’ll give us the nod when she wakes up.’
‘Unconscious for real or just faking it?’ Ethan allowed himself a wry smile. ‘Enquiring minds want to know.’
‘If it was fake, it was good enough to fool the EMTs.’ Yeung looked at his watch. ‘She’s been gone almost an hour. She must still be under, or we’d have heard by now.’
‘You’re assuming the uniform’s paying attention. Who called it in?’
‘Cleaning lady . . . Natalia Kowalczyk, not spelled like it sounds.’
Ethan looked around the room, peered into the kitchen and the single bedroom with its rumpled sheets and crib within easy reach.
‘What’s with the fucking fish?’ he asked. ‘It’s too big for a tank, there’s no tank in the apartment, and I’ve never seen bar- racuda on a menu, so I doubt they bought it for dinner.’
‘No reason they couldn’t eat it, though. Looks tasty.’
‘And where’d they buy it? Not likely to be something from the fish market.’
‘You think the killer left it? Like a calling card?’ ‘I don’t know what to think.’
‘Yeah, well I’ll call around,’ Yeung offered. ‘Can’t be many places in Chicago selling fresh barracuda.’
‘Uh-huh.’
Ethan took a deep breath and bent down to examine the bodies. The tips of the man’s fingers were scraped raw, the nails ripped, like he’d been fighting for his life.
But no bullet hole, or stab wound, or blunt force trauma. He dipped a gloved finger in the spreading pool of water,
brought the damp tip of it to his lips.
‘This is salty.’
He pressed gently against the man’s chest. Water bubbled from his mouth. Same with the baby.
‘You know what, Raymond? I think he drowned. Kid too.’ ‘I guess that explains why they’re both soaking wet.’
‘I guess.’ Ethan stood up again.
To read more you can buy Esperance out now with Quercus books in Hardback, Audio and Ebook.
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Adam Oyebanji was born in Coatbridge, Scotland. He recently took the big step of moving east to Edinburgh, by way of Birmingham, London, Lagos, Nigeria, Chicago, Pittsburgh and New York: a necessary detour, because the traffic otherwise is really, really bad. A graduate of Birmingham University and Harvard Law School, helping banks choke off the money supply to rogue states, narcotics empires, and human trafficking networks. His acclaimed SF debut novel, BRAKING DAY, was published in April 2022. A QUIET TEACHER, his first mystery novel, was published in November of the same year.
Image of other work (left justified)
