The call came just after eight the next morning.
Bayo was already in the Surulere office when his phone vibrated across the desk.
He looked at the screen.
Kunle.
He answered immediately.
“Hello.”
“I found the other ledger.”
Bayo straightened.
“The second one?”
“Yes.”
“Where are you?”
“Apapa.”
Bayo glanced at Tope.
She had already noticed the change in his expression.
“What does it contain?” Bayo asked.
Kunle paused.
“More than the first one.”
“How much more?”
“I think you should come and see it yourself.”
The call ended.
Tope raised an eyebrow.
“That’s not exactly a reassuring invitation.”
Bayo reached for his notebook.
“What did he say?”
“He found the second ledger.”
“That part I heard.”
“He says it’s more detailed.”
Tope stood.
“Then let’s go before somebody remembers they shouldn’t have found it.”
Bayo gave her a look.
“That sounded almost optimistic.”
“Don’t get used to it.”
The second ledger was thicker than the first.
It had a dark, worn cover and pages that had softened around the edges from years of handling.
Some entries were handwritten.
Others had been typed and pasted onto the pages.
Kunle placed it on the table between them.
“I didn’t know if I should show you this,” he said.
Bayo looked at him.
“Why did you?”
Kunle shrugged.
“Because you came back.”
There was something about the way he said it that made Bayo pause.
Not fear.
Not exactly.
Recognition.
He pulled his chair closer.
“Show us.”
Kunle opened the ledger.
The first few pages contained vehicle numbers, driver names, collection points, delivery points and dispatch references.
The same kind of information they had seen before.
Then Bayo noticed something.
He leaned forward.
“Stop there.”
Kunle’s finger remained on the page.
Bayo pointed.
“7A-214.”
The registration number appeared in the margin.
But beside it was a different company name.
He looked at Tope.
“That’s not Crestline.”
“No,” she said.
“What company?”
Kunle read the entry.
“Another transport company.”
Bayo studied the page.
“Same vehicle?”
Kunle nodded.
“Same registration.”
“Different company.”
“Yes.”
“Do you know why?”
Kunle shook his head.
“Not from this.”
Bayo did not write anything immediately.
He had learnt that the temptation to explain a strange document was almost as dangerous as ignoring it.
A vehicle appearing under two company names could mean many things.
A subcontract.
A temporary arrangement.
A change in dispatch.
A vehicle hired from another operator.
Or something else.
The paper showed a discrepancy.
It did not explain it.
Bayo wrote:
7A-214 — DIFFERENT COMPANY NAME.
VERIFY ARRANGEMENT.
Then he turned the page.
Another reference caught his attention.
He went back.
“Wait.”
Tope leaned closer.
“What?” Follow the newest chapters on g.com.
“This number.”
He pointed to a dispatch reference.
It appeared beside one vehicle entry.
Then again beside another.
Then again several pages later.
Same reference.
Different vehicles.
Different dates.
Tope frowned.
“That can’t be coincidence.”
“Maybe it is.”
She looked at him.
“You don’t believe that.”
“No.
I believe we don’t know what it means.”
Kunle nodded slowly.
“That number was used a lot.”
“Used for what?”
“I don’t know.”
“Company?”
“Maybe.”
“Person?”
“Could be.”
“Instruction?”
Kunle hesitated.
“Could be that too.”
Bayo wrote the reference down.
Then underneath it, he added:
REPEATED DISPATCH REFERENCE — MEANING UNKNOWN.
He underlined the last two words.
Tope watched him.
“You’re getting cautious.”
“I’ve always been cautious.”
“No.
You’ve become annoyingly cautious.”
Bayo looked at her.
“That sounds safer.”
“For you, perhaps.”
They continued through the pages.
Some entries were routine.
Others were not.
Vehicles moved between Apapa, the waterfront, Elegushi and Ikorodu.
Dates changed.
Company names changed.
But certain references remained.
Bayo began building a second list.
Not conclusions.
Patterns.
At the bottom of one page, he saw a name.
He stopped.
A.
ADEYEMI
He looked at Kunle.
“Adeyemi again.”
Kunle nodded.
“Same name.
Different page.”
“What did he do in this ledger?”
“Same kind of work.
Instructions.
Follow-up.
Movement checks.”
“Any company name beside him?”
“No.”
Bayo looked back at the ledger.
The name remained exactly where it had been.
Small.
Ordinary.
Easy to overlook.
He wrote:
A.
ADEYEMI — MOVEMENT COORDINATION.
Then he added:
ROLE / EMPLOYER / AUTHORITY — UNCONFIRMED.
Tope looked at the note.
“You’re not putting anything else.”
“Because we don’t have anything else.”
Kunle gave a quiet nod.
“That is the problem with old records.”
Bayo looked at him.
“They give you names without explanations.”
Kunle smiled faintly.
“Sometimes they give you explanations without names.”
Kunle turned several more pages.
“This is why I called you.”
A handwritten note appeared in the margin.
The ink had faded, but the words were still readable.
USE UPDATED COMPANY DETAILS ON ALL SUBSEQUENT DOCUMENTS.
Bayo read it twice.
“Who wrote this?”
“I don’t know.”
Kunle pointed to the bottom.
Nothing.
Bayo photographed the page.
Then he wrote the sentence into his notebook.
Below it was another instruction.
CONFIRM BEFORE RELEASE.
Tope read it quietly.
“That sounds familiar.”
Bayo nodded.
“It does.”
He thought about the earlier Ikorodu document.
The wording was close enough to matter.
But not close enough to prove they came from the same source.
He wrote:
POSSIBLE LINK TO EARLIER RELEASE INSTRUCTION — NOT CONFIRMED.
Tope leaned back.
“You really don’t want to connect anything.”
“I want to connect things that deserve to be connected.”
“And the things that don’t?”
“We leave them alone.”
She nodded.
“That may be the first sensible thing you’ve said today.”
Bayo ignored her.
Another section dealt with driver payments.
The amounts varied.
Some payments were small.
Others were considerably larger.
The company names beside them did not always match the company names on the movement entries.
Bayo studied the figures.
“So a driver could work for one transport company…”
“…while the paperwork showed another,” Kunle finished.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Kunle shrugged.
“Contract arrangement.
Subcontracting.
Temporary dispatch.
I don’t know.”
Bayo wrote:
DRIVER PAYMENT ≠ COMPANY ON PAPER — VERIFY.
Tope looked at the note.
“You’re building quite a collection of things to verify.”
“We’re building a case.”
“No.
We’re building questions.”
Bayo closed the notebook.
“At this stage, that’s what a case looks like.”
Before they left, Bayo returned to the name from the first ledger.
“Sani.”
Kunle nodded.
“He’s still the one to find.”
“Anything in this ledger that changes what you told us yesterday?”
Kunle thought.
“Only that his name appears more than once.”
“Same routes?”
“Same routes.
Same pattern.”
Bayo wrote nothing.
The address was already in his notebook.
Outside, the yard had become louder.
Engines started.
Drivers shouted across the compound.
A forklift reversed with a sharp warning sound.
Life continued around them as if nothing unusual had been uncovered.
Bayo stood beside the car and looked back at the building.
Two ledgers.
One vehicle appearing under different company names.
Repeated dispatch references.
A name connected to movement coordination.
Instructions whose authors remained unknown.
And a driver whose name appeared more than once in the records.
Tope opened the passenger door.
“You’re thinking again.”
“I usually do.”
“That’s the problem.”
He smiled faintly.
She got into the car.
Bayo followed.
As they pulled away from the yard, he looked down at his notebook.
At the top of the page, he had written one name.
SANI
Underneath it:
DRIVER — ROUTES / MOVEMENT / POSSIBLE WITNESS
He drew a line beneath the words.
The investigation had not given them an answer.
It had given them a system.
And somewhere inside that system was a man who had driven the roads, carried the instructions, and seen the paperwork change.
The next step was no longer another document.
It was a person.
And people remembered differently from paper.
Sometimes they remembered too little.
Sometimes they remembered too much.
And sometimes, when they finally decided to speak, they opened a door nobody had known was there.