He laughed, shaking hands with her, and then with Dawson after a moment’s hesitation. She beckoned to Mosquito to come with them over to the side where there was less video noise.
“How are you, Mosquito?” Patience asked, seriously now.
“Please, I’m fine.”
“When was the last time you saw Ebenezer?”
He frowned, worried. “He didn’t come back last night. We looked for him everywhere, but we didn’t find him.”
Patience rested her hand on his shoulder and squeezed it. “I don’t like to bring bad news to you, Mosquito. I’m sorry, eh? Ebenezer was killed last night. I’m sorry, Mosquito.”
“You say what?” He took a step back. “He was killed?”
“Yes,” she said. “They found him in Jamestown.”
“Oh.” Mosquito nodded. For the moment, he didn’t appear to be completely absorbing it. The full impact would take effect later.
“What time were you expecting Eben last night?” Dawson asked gently.
The boy shrugged. Dawson realized it might be difficult to get information from him right now. The news had thrown his mind into turmoil.
All of a sudden Mosquito looked up at Dawson and then at Patience. Something had struck him.
“Is he a policeman?” He was referring to Dawson as if Dawson wasn’t present.
“Yes, Mosquito. He’s just trying to find out what happened to Eben,” she explained.
Dawson wasn’t prepared for what happened next. Mosquito turned and bolted, gangly legs moving with astonishing speed. Dawson took off after him and followed as the boy took a sharp right down a row of shacks and past a group of butchers waving flies away from their fresh, red meat. He was sure Mosquito was headed to the south side of the market, where he could disappear in the maze of streets, but he ran into an obstacle before he could make it. A crowd was gathered around a fast-talking card trickster. Scrambling to make a path through, Mosquito lost his lead, and Dawson caught up with him as the con artist’s audience yelled insults at Mosquito for upsetting their gathering.
Dawson grabbed the boy’s arm and led him to an alley nearby.
“Why are you running?” Dawson demanded, breathing as hard as Mosquito was.
The boy kept his head down and turned away. He was trembling and pouring with sweat.
“Sit down for a moment,” Dawson said quietly.
Mosquito sat. Dawson squatted on his haunches next to him.
“Wote Twi?”
The boy nodded, so Dawson continued to speak it.
“Why did you run away?”
“Please, I thought you were going to arrest me.”
“Did you do something wrong?”
“Please, no.”
“Then what are you running away for?”
Mosquito had no answer.
“Ebenezer was your good friend?” Dawson asked.
“Yes, please.”
“I’m very sorry, eh?”
Mosquito was silent, head bowed.
“When was the last time you saw him?” Dawson asked.
“Yesterday morning. When I came back to the base in the night, he wasn’t there. I asked Issa where he was, but he didn’t know.”
“Who’s Issa?”
“The leader of our gang.”
“When was the last time Issa or the other boys saw Ebenezer?”
“Ebenezer was the first watchman. They saw him before they slept.”
“Watchman?”
“We have to be on guard, otherwise someone will come and try to steal our money.”
“What did you do when you saw Ebenezer was gone?”
“We went to look for him. We were calling his name, but he didn’t come.”
“Do you know anyone who would want to kill Ebenezer?”
“Please, no.”
“Do you know Tedamm?”
“Ah. Everybody knows Tedamm.”
“Did Ebenezer fear him?”
“Not at all. Ebenezer didn’t fear anyone.”
“Where can I find Tedamm?”
Mosquito shook his head. Dawson wasn’t going to get an answer on that one. He stood up and reached his hand out. Mosquito took it and got to his feet.
“Oh, my goodness.”
They turned at the sound of Patience’s voice as she came around the corner and joined them in the alley. She was completely out of breath.
“I was trying to run after you,” she managed to say, “but I’m even more out of shape than I thought.”
Dawson smiled. “Catch your breath.”
But Patience wasn’t going to wait. “Ah, Mosquito, but why did you run like that? Didn’t I tell you never to run away from a policeman?”
“Yes, please, ma’am.”
“But you forgot? You’re growing so fast your brain is left behind?”
Mosquito grinned sheepishly.
“Will Issa be at your base right now?” Dawson asked him.
“Mepaakyεw, dabi. Unless this evening.”
“We can go with him to the base so you can see where they stay,” Patience suggested to Dawson. “Maybe you can come back this evening to talk to them.”
“Good idea. Come on, Mosquito, let’s go. This time, we can walk.”
24
Mosquito showed Dawson his base on Knutsford Avenue. By day, the stores were open and the street was bustling with traffic and pedestrians. It was hard to imagine that at night the area would become one big open bedroom for hundreds of homeless youth.
After leaving Patience and Mosquito, Dawson called Chikata to let him know what had happened and that he wanted them both to visit Issa’s base that night.
“I’ll make sure we have a driver,” Chikata said.
Meanwhile, Dawson owed his brother a visit and thought this was a good time to get one in. For years as a paraplegic, Cairo had lived with their father, Jacob, who had taken care of him. Now Cairo was married to Audrey, a gem of a woman who loved him dearly. Together they owned a craft shop in Osu just off the bustling tourist trap Oxford Street. Cairo had started off small, selling his handmade traditional masks from home. He still made masks himself, but now he had to contract out to keep up with demand. He had done well for himself. Above all, Dawson was glad Cairo no longer lived with Papa. It meant being able to visit his brother without having to deal with the father Dawson felt so uncomfortable around. Papa had never shown any affection to him when he was a child, let alone now that he was an adult. What Dawson did remember were beatings and harsh words.
Cairo would probably be at work for another hour or so. Dawson turned off Oxford onto Third Kuku Crest, where he found a parking spot near the shop with the bright green canopy bearing its name, Ultimate Craft.
With outside temperatures past the century mark, the air-conditioned interior of the shop felt like paradise. Dawson loved the fresh smell of carved wood, new pottery, and crisply folded fabrics. Georgina, Cairo’s assistant, was at the counter helping a customer. She greeted Dawson with a smile and told him Cairo was in his office.
He went through to the back, poked his head in the open door, and found his brother at his desk rapidly punching numbers into a calculator. Over the years Cairo had put on weight. His face was rounder, but he was still handsome, sporting a goatee that looked good on him.
“Counting your millions?” Dawson said.
Cairo looked up and laughed. “I wish it was so. Come in, you rascal.”
They hugged each other. Dawson pulled up a chair. “How are things?”
“Could be better. Tourism is down. It’s killing us.”
Dawson nodded. “I can imagine. Where’s Audrey?”
“She went to Tema to take care of some imports. How are you doing?”
“I’m all right.”
“Oh, I’m glad you dropped by. I want to show you something new. Let’s go to the front.”
Cairo effortlessly swiveled his ultralight wheelchair and wheeled himself out ahead of Dawson.
“Take a look at this,” Cairo said, handing Dawson a small attractive box.
“Wisdom cookies,” Dawson read off the top. “What’s that?”