the smuggler’s bible


Lawal pries up a few flagstones (a task which, though here related simply, in fact required considerable discomfort and close upon six hours ceaseless toil) to find good black dirt—slightly compacted, but free, generally speaking, from stone and root.

He and the lads set to with their shovels and soon (again, much of consequence is elided) have themselves a pit some fifteen feet deep and nearly as broad to a side.

It is at this stage that, in no small part due to several unspecified, but pointedly relevant and compounding matters, the project’s financial affairs becomes complicated (completely fucked).