At Jack’s urging, Warren had taken him and Laurie to the Mercado Market and to meet Esteban Ndeme. As Warren had intimated, Esteban was an amiable and gracious man. He was close to Jack’s age of forty-two, but his body type was the opposite of Jack’s. Where Jack was stocky, Esteban was slender. Even his facial features seemed delicate. His skin was a deep, rich brown, many shades darker than Warren’s. But his most noticeable physical trait was his high-domed forehead. He’d lost his hair in the front so that his hairline ran from ear to ear over the top of his head.

As soon as he’d learned Jack was considering a trip to Equatorial Guinea, he’d invited Jack, Laurie, and Warren back to his apartment.

Teodora Ndeme had turned out to be as congenial as her husband. After the group had been in the apartment for only a short time, she’d insisted everyone stay for dinner.

With savory aromas drifting from the kitchen, Jack sat back contentedly with a second beer. “What brought you and Teodora to New York City?” he asked Esteban.

“We had to flee our country,” Esteban said. He went on to describe the the reign of terror of the ruthless dictator Nguema that forced a third of the population, including all of Spanish descent, to leave. “Fifty thousand people were murdered,” Esteban said. “It was terrible. We were lucky to get out. I was a schoolteacher trained in Spain and therefore suspect.”

“Things have changed, I hope,” Jack said.

“Oh, yes,” Esteban said. “A coup in 1979 has changed a lot. But it is a poor country, although there is some talk of offshore oil, as was discovered off Gabon. Gabon is now the wealthiest country in the region.”

“Have you been back?” Jack asked.

“Several times,” Esteban said. “The last time, a few years ago,” Esteban said. “Teodora and I still have family there. Teodora’s brother even has a small hotel on the mainland in a town called Bata.”

“I’ve heard of Bata,” Jack said. “I understand it has an airport.”

“The only one on the mainland,” Esteban said. “It was built in the eighties for a Central African Congress. Of course, the country couldn’t afford it, but that is another story.”

“Have you heard of a company called GenSys?” Jack asked.

“Most definitely,” Esteban said. “It is the major source of foreign currency for the government, especially since cocoa and coffee prices have fallen.”

“So I’ve heard,” Jack said. “I’ve also heard GenSys has a primate farm. Do you know if that is in Bata?”

“No, it is in the south,” Esteban said. “They built it in the jungle near an old deserted Spanish town called Cogo. They have rebuilt much of the town for their people from America and Europe, and they have built a new town for local people who work for them. They employ many Equatoguinean people.”

“Do you know if GenSys built a hospital?” Jack asked.

“Yes, they did,” Esteban said. “They built a hospital and laboratory on the old town square facing the town hall.”