“I don’t know,” he said. “I have to digest it tomorrow.”
He wasn’t interested in talking any further about it, and he knew she sensed that.
They crossed a bridge over the Ezile River, passed along the outskirts of Akwidaa, negotiated another clump of rocks, and entered the peninsula forest along a path that twisted and turned through thick undergrowth and palm and banana trees. At intervals, lengths of chicken wire stretched between one bush or tree and the next.
“What are those for?” Christine wondered.
“I think it’s to keep goats and sheep out when they plant crops,” Dawson said. “And of course, any wild animals.”
“Wild animals? What wild animals?”
“You know, forest leopards and things like that,” Dawson said casually.
“What?” Christine said, stopping in her tracks. “There are no leopards in Ghana.”
“Oh, yes there are,” he said, turning to her authoritatively. “People just don’t know about them. Just like they don’t know we have dolphins and whales.”
“Wait a minute,” she said incredulously. “There are leopards in this forest? Who told you that?”
“One of the villagers,” he replied casually. “He said they stalk people, pounce on them, and devour their flesh. Sometimes the remains of people are found stripped to the bone.”
She looked around. “Dark, are you serious?” Her voice shook slightly.
He looked back at her. “Of course I’m serious. Don’t worry. It’s not very likely we’ll run into one of them. They’re very secretive.”
Her eyes widened. She jumped and swung around as though she had heard something. At that, Dawson couldn’t keep his face straight any longer and burst out laughing. “I’m just playing with you.”
“What?”
“I’m lying. No one told me there are leopards here.”
“Okay, that’s it,” she said furiously, pulling a strip of leaves off a bush. “You’re done for.”
She charged at him and began whipping him with the flimsy branch. He fell over with laughter.
“Get up and let’s go, you bad man,” she said. “We’re wasting time.”
He dusted himself off and took the lead again.
“I thought you said there are signs showing which way to go,” she grumbled after a few minutes. “I haven’t seen one yet.”
“I just said that to get you to come with me,” he tossed back.
“I’m beginning to dislike you,” she commented. “Besides that, I’m exhausted.”
“There!” he exclaimed.
“What? Where?”
“The ruins of the fort.” He pointed. “Over there.”
“Oh, yes!” she exclaimed. “I see it now.”
They were looking at segments of crumbled walls constructed from earth-colored bricks. Large trees grew in and among the ruins, wrapping roots around the walls as if trying to strangle them.
“Four hundred years old,” she murmured. “Amazing.”
They moved closer to the ancient structure, but didn’t touch anything.
“I wonder what they’re doing to preserve it from further damage,” Dawson said.
“Apparently, not much. Aren’t the trees and their roots going to eventually split the walls open?”
Dawson circled around to the left edge of the ruins. Here, the ground sloped quite steeply into a shaded depression. He called out to her. “Let’s go down there.”
“Whatever for?”
“It looks nice and cool. We can relax for a minute.” He stooped. “Get on my back. I’ll take you down.”
HE SPENT A few minutes creating a soft, clean spot on the ground using fronds from a banana tree, and then he sat with his back against the tree while she rested in between his thighs, leaning against his chest.
“You’re right,” she said. “It’s nice here.”
He nuzzled her neck, her ticklish spot, and she went into convulsive giggles and tried to get away from him, but he held her fast.
“Darko, stop!” she begged in between paroxysms.
“Okay, okay,” he said, grinning and letting her relax against him again.
“You know what I’m thinking?” she said.
“What?”
“I get the feeling this might be some kind of sacred grounds and that we’re trespassing.”
“Then they should put a sign up that says so.”
“The gods expect you to automatically know certain things.”
“Oh, really?” he asked innocently.
“Yes, Dark. Which is why you probably shouldn’t have your hand in my blouse.”
She gave his right hand a firm but playful slap and he withdrew. “All right,” he said with a sigh. “I’ll be good—even though it’s going to kill me.”
She laughed and relaxed against him. “You can handle it.”
“Barely.”
She was quiet for a moment, then, “I hope the kids are all right.”
“Abe is taking care of them,” Dawson murmured. “For once, don’t think about the boys. We hardly ever get to spend time together alone, you and I, so let’s enjoy this moment.”
“Okay,” she said softly.
He wrapped his arms around her and inhaled the sweetness of her skin. They were silent, enjoying each other and the sound of the gentle breeze stirring through the trees of the forest.
Chapter 21
ON SUNDAY MORNING, CHRISTINE, Hosiah, Akosua, and Abraham went to church while Dawson stayed behind with Sly, who was Muslim. They walked over to Chikata at the Stellar. Dawson switched the TV channel from the action adventure he had been watching to something more child-suitable, and Sly settled down on the bed to watch while the two men sat at a table on the balcony to talk about the case. They hadn’t had time to discuss Chikata’s outing with Baah in detail, but Dawson knew that the trip had turned up little to nothing.
“We went to a priestess in New Amanful,” Chikata told him now, leaning back and stretching his legs. “When I asked her about human sacrifice, she got offended and said, ‘I don’t involve myself with the spilling of human blood.’ She seemed very serious about that. Then we found fetish shrines in Kwesimintsim and Anaji—those are some other sections of Takoradi. The priests and healers we saw there wouldn’t talk. They mostly shook their heads and gave me evasive answers. They didn’t want to reveal any tricks of their trade.”
Dawson nodded. “Much of traditional medicine is jealously guarded. It’s like companies who don’t want to reveal their manufacturing process.”
“One possible lead, though,” Chikata continued. “The New Amanful priestess told me I should get in touch with a well-known fetish priest called Kweku Bonsa. She said if anyone knows about something like that, it’s Bonsa. He works in Kojokrom, a little way out from Takoradi. We didn’t have enough time, but maybe I can track him down tomorrow.”
“All right. Good job.” Dawson looked at his phone. “They should be back from church by now. Let’s go to Abraham’s house. They’re having us for lunch.”
AFTER A SUMPTUOUS meal, it was time to say goodbye to Christine and the boys.
“Drive safely,” Dawson told her as he saw them off outside Abraham’s shop. He gave her a hug and kissed her.
“When will you be back, Daddy?” Hosiah asked, swinging on his arm.
“As soon as I can. Be good. Don’t give Mama any trouble.” Hosiah smiled with a hint of mischief. “Okay.”
“And remember, Daddy’s going to be fine.”
He kissed Hosiah and pulled Sly closer for a somewhat quicker embrace. The older boy was less inclined to demonstrations of affection, and Dawson respected that.
“Take care of your little brother, okay?”
Sly nodded and smiled.
“While you’re on the way, Mama will give you her phone to call me and let me know everything is all right.”
Sly liked taking on responsibility and being in control. “All right, Daddy.”
Dawson wat
ched as they pulled away in the car, the kids waving at him for as long as he was within sight. He went back inside thinking what a nice time this weekend with the family had been.
HE JOINED CHIKATA and Abraham to watch a televised soccer match between British teams Manchester United and Arsenal. To Dawson’s chagrin, Man U massacred his team Arsenal 3-0, and he had to submit to the taunts.
“Next time,” Dawson said, waving the teasing away, “no mercy.”
His phone rang. It was Sly calling on Christine’s phone. “Daddy, we’re passing Saltpond now.”
“That’s good. Everything okay?”
“Yes, Daddy, everything is fine. We’ll get home soon.”
“Cool, thank you for calling. Let me talk to Mama.”
He exchanged a few quick words with Christine before ending the call. “Cousin Abe, Chikata and I should get back now, so we can prepare for tomorrow.”
“Okay, no problem.”
With Chikata watching, Dawson sat at the small table in the lodge sitting room with a pencil, eraser, and a large paper pad. He wanted to work out what they had so far on the case, what was missing, and what still needed to be done. Sometimes it helped to do that in diagrammatic form.
THE SMITH-AIDOO MURDER
Dawson had drawn a dashed lined between Peter Duodo and Reggie Cardiman because a direct connection between the two wasn’t yet established.
“What do you want to do about Duodo?” Chikata asked.
“Talk to him on the phone tomorrow,” Dawson instructed him. “Find out what kind of business arrangement he had with Charles, if any. Were they on good terms, did they have any disagreements, you know, that kind of thing. In other words, could Duodo be a suspect? Get a feeling for if he’s hiding something. If so, we might have to interview him in person. Also, check if Duodo ever heard of any threats made to Charles or Fiona.”
“No problem. Is that it for today?” Chikata said.
“Why?” Dawson asked knowingly. “Where are you going tonight?”
“There’s a private party tonight at the Champs Bar at Stellar. Do you want to come?”
“No, thank you.”
“Come on,” Chikata said, laughing as he went to the door. “Your wife isn’t here.”
“I prefer to stay out of trouble.” A thought occurred to Dawson. “What kind of party is this?”
“I don’t really know. The manager of Champs invited me.”
That was typical for Chikata. People invited him to everything.
“While you’re there,” Dawson said thoughtfully, “keep your ears open for anything interesting. For example, I understand there was a rumor that Fiona Smith-Aidoo was having an affair. See if you dig up anything like that.”
“Okay, boss, I will.”
“And don’t get drunk,” Dawson called out. “I need you fresh for tomorrow.”
Chapter 22
IN THE MORNING, DAWSON was just out of the shower when Chief Superintendent Lartey called to ask how the case was progressing. Dawson gave him a quick summary of events so far.
“Move it along,” Lartey said crisply. “I need you and Philip back as quickly as possible. Cases are coming in all the time, and I want both of you to attend a new forensics course in two weeks.”
First he rushes me here to Takoradi. Now he’s trying to rush me back to Accra.
“How is Philip doing?” Lartey asked.
“Fine, sir. Very comfortable at the hotel.”
If the chief super detected the jab, he didn’t let on. “I want you to give him more free rein. Let him take the lead as much as possible. I’d like him to move up to inspector when you get to chief inspector. That is, if you do. How you perform on this case might determine that.”
Not that you’re trying to pressure me, Dawson thought. “Yes, of course, sir.”
He was glad to get off the phone with his boss as he answered a knock on the door. It was Chikata.
“How was the party?” Dawson asked as he invited him in.
“I’ve seen better,” Chikata said.
“Did you hear anything useful?”
Chikata dropped into the sitting room chair. “I was talking to a woman who used to work in Smith-Aidoo’s corporate affairs department. She says she resigned, but I got the feeling she might have been sacked. Anyway, she was boasting that Takoradi has a much lower crime rate compared to Accra, and I said, wasn’t Charles Smith-Aidoo brutally murdered some months ago? I didn’t tell her what I do, by the way. She was drinking and her tongue was loose, so I got her to say more. She told me she had heard that Fiona was having an affair with some businessman in town, and maybe it was the businessman that killed her and Charles.”
“Oh, really?” Dawson said with interest. “That’s the second time I’ve heard reference to her possible involvement with a businessman. Did she give a name?”
“No. She said she had heard it was a banker, then she changed it to an oilman, then a bookstore owner, and all this time she was leaning on me and giggling and breathing her alcohol fumes on me. I couldn’t keep her on the subject. She kept asking me if we could go upstairs to my room.”
Chikata pulled a face, indicating just what he thought of that idea.
“Come on, let’s go.” Dawson said as he heard the sound of Baah’s taxi pulling up. “I’m going to introduce you to Superintendent Hammond.”
“Ah, right. Is he going to be glad to see me?”
“I doubt that very much.”
BAAH PULLED up in front of the police headquarters, and Dawson and Chikata alighted. They went inside where Dawson knocked on Hammond’s door, opened it, and put his head in.
“Good morning, sir.”
“Morning. Come in.”
Dawson introduced Hammond to Chikata, who received only a curt nod from the superintendent.
“Kwesi DeSouza called me this morning to lodge a complaint against you,” Hammond said to Dawson.
“A complaint? Regarding what?”
“You made sarcastic and discourteous comments to him, you insisted on repeating questions that we have already dealt with, and after you saw him in his offices at STMA, you hounded him at TTI while he was supervising exams.”
“Questioning possible suspects is harassment? In that case, we might as well do nothing, sir.”
“There you are,” Hammond said, flipping his palm up demonstratively. “Did you hear what you just said and how you said it? Exactly the sarcasm Mr. DeSouza is talking about. Coming from CID Headquarters doesn’t give you any right to insult people. We are a closely knit community here, and we behave differently than people do in Accra. You have to respect that.”
“I was in no way discourteous to the man,” Dawson said coolly. “He felt insulted because he has an overinflated opinion of himself and thinks that as the chief executive of the STMA, he’s somehow above being questioned. He could be the president of Ghana, for all I care. If there’s a need to interrogate him fifty times, I will go back and do so fifty times.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Dawson saw Chikata freeze and hold his breath. For several moments, Hammond stared at Dawson in consternation. “What about you, Inspector Dawson?” he said finally. “Do you not have an inflated opinion yourself?”
Dawson mentally dismissed the question as irrelevant. “Would you like to hear what I learned from Mr. DeSouza that might be useful information, sir?”
“Go ahead,” Hammond said churlishly.
“He said there is, or was, a rumor that Fiona Smith-Aidoo was having an affair, but he could not say with whom. Sergeant Chikata has also heard that from a second source.”
“There are all sorts of rumors all the time,” Hammond contested. “Doesn’t mean they’re true.”
Dawson remained steadfast. “Yes, but Chikata and I will keep it in the back of our minds and follow up on it. I also interviewed Mr. Cardiman on Saturday.”
“And?”
“I agree it’s difficult to see how he could have ambushed the Smith-Aidoo’s vehicle.”
“So you went all the way to Cape Three Points to establish that,” Hammond said condescendingly.
“But if there was an accomplice—”
“Who? What accomplice?”
“Well, I don’t know that yet, but—”
“Okay, okay,” Hammond said impatiently. “Work on that theory, if you like. I don’t know what you’ll get out of it, but it’s up to you. Regarding Mr. Smith-Aidoo’s mobile, I went to Vodafone, and they did a trace on the Lawrence Tetteh that Mr. Smith-Aidoo was communicating with. It’s not Tetteh, the CEO at Goilco. So we don’t need to concern ourselves with that question anymore.”
Dawson tensed as a hot streak flashed across his left palm like lightening. He paused a moment to let it subside. “Thank you for finding that out, sir.”
“No problem.”
Dawson’s phone rang, and he picked up the call. It was Jason Sarbah.
“I’ve spoken with Mr. Calmy-Rey, Inspector,” he said. “He will be available to meet with you at nine o’clock tomorrow morning at our offices. He is located on the top floor. You will be escorted there as soon as you arrive at reception.”
“Thank you very much, Mr. Sarbah.”
“You are welcome, Inspector.”
Dawson ended the call. “I have a meeting with Mr. Calmy-Rey tomorrow morning,” he told Hammond.
“Okay.”
“Were you able to interrogate him back in July, sir?”
“Yes. He had been out of the country at the time of the murder. He obviously thought very highly of Smith-Aidoo—no motive whatsoever to kill him or have him killed. Please, Inspector Dawson, do not antagonize Mr. Calmy-Rey.”
“I don’t intend to, sir,” Dawson said pleasantly. “Just one other thing I forgot to ask before. On the postmortem report by the pathologist Dr. Cudjoe, he didn’t mention gunpowder burns around Fiona Smith-Aidoo’s entrance wound. Did either of you attend the postmortem?”
Hammond shook his head. “Seidu was supposed to be there, but they gave him the wrong time and performed the autopsy in his absence. I was quite annoyed.”
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