Murder at Cape Three Points (28 page)

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Authors: Kwei Quartey

Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #International Mystery & Crime, #African American, #Police Procedural

BOOK: Murder at Cape Three Points
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H
IS PHONE RANG AND
he jerked awake disoriented, unsure what was dream and what was reality.

“Hello?” he said thickly.

“Hi, Dark. Sorry. I woke you.”

Christine.
His heart surged and then plunged as he remembered Dr. Smith-Aidoo.

“Yes, I fell asleep. What time is it?”

“Just past eleven. I shouldn’t have called this late.”

“No, it’s okay,” he said, sitting up at the side of the bed.

“How’s everything?”

“Okay, doing okay. Thanks.”

He sensed a split second pause on her part, and he realized he might be sounding strange.

“The boys are fine?” he asked hastily. “No more nightmares?”

“No, thank goodness. Seeing you in Takoradi did wonders. Still, they can’t wait for you to come home.”

“Tell them I will as soon as I can.”

“You didn’t call me today,” she said, “so I just wanted to check on you.”

“Thanks, love. I should have. I apologize.”

“No, it’s all right. Get your rest and take care, okay?”

“I will. And I do love you.”

“I love you too.”

He put his phone down, wondering if Christine had sensed something was amiss. The way he had said, “I
do
love you” was a bit odd.

H
E WOKE SOME
time before dawn and sat up in the dark. His head was aching because he hadn’t had anything to eat in over twelve hours. He felt like smoking some
wee
, but he didn’t have the energy to get up and find any. He fell back in bed, a dark, encircling wall of depression beginning to close in.

W
HEN HE AWOKE
again, the weather was bright and hot. He looked at his phone, which said 9:25. He groaned, rolled to the edge of the bed, and sat up. He was weak and needed some food. The episode with Dr. Smith-Aidoo came hurtling back with the force of a speeding truck.

I
T HAD BEEN
a struggle to get out of bed, but Dawson was glad he had. On foot to Abraham’s store, it felt good to be out, especially after having had a large helping of roast plantain and groundnuts that he had bought at the roadside. Sometimes the simple yet filling meal was called “Kofi Broke Man,” because it was dirt cheap.

Dawson was suppressing any memory of his encounter with the doctor. In the light of day, it had an unreal quality. He knew his sex drive had gotten the best of him, but in Sapphire’s case, he sensed it was more complex than that—a misdirected need for physical intimacy had been set on fire when he had offered her comfort in her grief. It was possible that she had not ever received the solace she had needed after the death of her aunt and uncle.

He had called his cousin to say he was coming, so Abraham had been expecting him when he walked into his shop.

“I’ve missed you.” Abraham gave his cousin a hefty hug. “You’ve been busy, eh?”

“Yes, I have. You won’t believe I went to helicopter underwater escape training yesterday.”

“Serious! How did it go?”

“I did okay. They gave me a commendation for exemplary performance, too.”

“Congrats!” Abraham exclaimed. “Let’s go and celebrate. There’s a nice bar on Appiah Street.”

They walked over and took a seat at a table under a canopy. A young woman came to take their orders—a club beer, a Malta, and some plantain chips.

Dawson sat slightly forward. He was dreading this, but it had to be done. “Abe, something has come up in the investigation that I have to ask you about.”

“Oh? Sounds serious. What’s going on?”

“You know that no matter what, I respect you, right?”

“Yes,” Abraham said warily.

“You told me that you and Fiona Smith-Aidoo were classmates.”

Abraham nodded, looking anxious. “Yes, that’s right.”

“If Fiona was not a murder victim,” Dawson continued, “I wouldn’t care about your relationship with her one way or the other. In fact, it wouldn’t be any of my business. However, yesterday, I was talking to Gamal the Smith-Aidoo’s watchman, asking him who had visited the Smith-Aidoos at Beach Road. He told me how, one night in the garden, he discovered Fiona with a man who fits your description. What’s more, when he saw the man some months later in town, a friend told him that the man owned Abraham’s Stationery.”

He stopped there because Abraham knew what the question was and it needn’t be asked. He had dropped his eyes and was moving his glass around in a slow circle in the condensation pool on the table. From the expression on his face, Dawson knew he was not about to deny anything.

“Okay, yes,” he said quietly. “It’s true, and Gamal is right. I was with Fiona. Darko, I haven’t told you everything. We all have secrets and this was mine. I should have told you, but I was ashamed. Fiona was my girlfriend when we were together at Takoradi Secondary. To be honest, I thought I was going to marry her, and I thought she felt the same way. Until Charles Smith-Aidoo came along. He transferred from another school. I suppose the first time he ever saw her, he decided she was the girl he wanted.

“It sounds silly to say he took her away from me, but he was everything I wasn’t—he had a way with words, he was athletic. When she fell for him, I realized she had never really been in love with me. I had been her friend, a very close companion, but she didn’t have the fever for me that she had for Charles. I was hurt and bitter, but once
I had met Akosua, none of that mattered anymore. However, that’s not the same as saying that I didn’t still have feelings for Fiona.”

Abraham glanced around as if someone might have been eavesdropping, but no one appeared the slightest bit interested in their conversation. Nevertheless, he sat forward and spoke confidentially. “About eight months ago, Fiona came into the shop to buy some envelopes and we chatted. As she was leaving, she asked me if I’d accompany her outside to her car. She began to talk about things in a strange way—the old days at school, how we used to help each other with lessons, the fun we had. I kept wondering why she was going on and on about this now. She finally confessed that she and Charles were going through a rough patch. Disagreements, arguments, and so on.

“She started to cry, saying that she needed to talk to someone she could trust as a friend, and the first person she had thought of was me, even after all these years. She asked if we could meet somewhere soon and just talk.

“When she told me this, I felt something inside, something like triumph that she had turned to me. You know that feeling you get when an old rival is defeated? Your ego smiles and says, ‘you see now? In the end, I had victory over you.’ ”

Dawson chuckled. “I know exactly what you mean.”

“Fiona and I exchanged phone numbers, and a few days later, she called me to say that Charles was going to be at a Malgam function the following evening, and she wanted to see me then. When I got to her place, she let me in through the back gate. We sat and talked. She was full of stress, and at times, she got tearful. She talked about her campaign to be chief exec of the STMA and how she wasn’t getting support from Charles. Some of what Charles wanted for Malgam’s success ran counter to Fiona’s vision for a prosperous Takoradi.”

“Did she give you an example of that?”

“Fiona was challenging Malgam Oil over the rule that no fishing canoe can come within five hundred meters of the oil platform. If a navy patrol vessel catches a canoe within that radius, they arrest the fisherman involved and confiscate the canoe.”

“How long did you stay with Fiona that night?”

“Two hours. I will swear on a Bible that I did not have sex with her,
Darko. You have to believe me. We went out to the garden from the back of the house, and we were exchanging some last words when she put her arms around me. At that time, Gamal came into the garden with a flashlight and discovered us embracing. I thought I was going to die of embarrassment.”

“Did you ever see Fiona again after this incident?”

“No, I didn’t. After that meeting, I realized what a terrible mistake I’d be making to go any further. I felt stupid and ashamed. However, Fiona kept calling me to talk. I was avoiding her, not returning her calls, and so she came to the shop. That was a frightening moment, because I thought she was going to make a scene and then the whole story would be out. Fortunately, she didn’t do that, but I got the feeling my shop assistants suspected something might have been going on between Fiona and me.”

Dawson wondered if a leak by one of the assistants had been responsible for the rumor that Fiona was having an affair with a businessman in town.

“It was at that visit to the shop that I went outside with her and told her that we had to end the relationship,” Abraham said. “She never called me again.”

He reached across the table and slipped his meaty palm into Dawson’s lean one.

“I hope you believe me and trust me, Darko. I had nothing to do with Fiona and Charles’s murder. I bore no malice to either one of them. I did something stupid, but it doesn’t make me a murderer.”

Dawson squeezed his cousin’s hand. “Yes, I do believe you, Abe.”

His mind very much eased, Dawson ordered a second bottle of Malta to celebrate. His cousin had now been pulled safely away from the brink of the suspect list. With that, Dawson would be able to concentrate on finding the true murderer without having to worry about family conflicts.

Chapter 27

E
ARLY THE NEXT MORNING
,
Dawson’s phone rang as he was headed to the bathroom. Emmanuel was calling.


Chaley
, time to give up MTN and switch to Vodafone,” he sang.

Dawson’s heart leapt. “You’ve got my info?”

“The number that the Goilco CEO, Lawrence Tetteh, had is the same one you’ve got: zero-two-zero one-five-six four-six-seven-six. It’s now out of service, however. He purchased a new phone and changed his number.”

“My man, you’re the best. Thank you.

“When you get back to Accra, come and see me so we can switch you over to Vodafone. Do you have the latest iPhone?”

“You must be crazy. I can’t afford that.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll hook you up with a deal, complete with Internet, email, voice mail, everything included.”

Dawson laughed. “Always the salesman.”

“I’m serious. A CID detective should have only the best.”

“I wish CID thought that way. Thank you, Emmanuel.”

As Dawson ended the call, he switched from smiling to sober. Emmanuel had now confirmed that the Lawrence Tetteh who had been murdered and the one listed in Smith-Aidoo’s phone were the same man. Why had Hammond pretended the opposite? Was he involved in a conspiracy to hide a connection between the murders of Charles Smith-Aidoo and Lawrence Tetteh, and if so, why?

Dawson thought back to the details of Tetteh’s case. Reportedly, the day of the Tetteh shooting, his stepbrother, Silas, had stopped
by one afternoon to see him at his home in Accra’s affluent Labone Estates. Charity, his faithful housekeeper, who knew Silas from previous visits, had opened up the front gate for him. Silas had told her he preferred to leave his car parked on the street. After darkness had fallen, Charity was in the servants’ quarters when she heard a gunshot. She looked out of the window, which faced the driveway, and saw a man she identified as Silas fleeing down the driveway.

Fearing the worst, Charity ran inside the house and found Tetteh lying on the sitting room floor in a pool of blood with a devastating head wound. At the pending trial, Silas’s defense lawyers were likely to cast doubt on the housekeeper’s reliability and truthfulness. Could she clearly have identified the man running out of the house from where she was in the servants’ quarters? It had been dark, and eyewitness testimony could be notoriously inaccurate. Since she usually took Sundays off to visit family, why had she stayed at home that particular Sunday?

What bothered some people, and Dawson agreed, was that Silas appeared to be a scatterbrain—a marginal man barely conducting his own affairs. He didn’t fit the profile of a murderer who had executed this quick, clean killing. Moreover, if he had come to see Tetteh with a plan to shoot him, why did he stay so long, arriving late afternoon and leaving after dusk?

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