Calmy-Rey snorted. “Charity? She’s a little liar.”
“So you have been to Mr. Tetteh’s house then. How else would you know Charity?”
Calmy-Rey swallowed. “Okay, yes, I’ve been once or twice to his home. So what?”
“So, who is the liar, then?”
Calmy-Rey rested his forehead in his palms. “I’m so tired,” he whispered.
“He needs a rest, Inspector,” DeGraft said. “Please.”
“Sure, no problem. I’ll have them bring him some water.”
Dawson stood outside the room for a while, gazing idly at the road that ran in front of the station. An episodic Benz, Audi, or Japanese SUV went by. His mind was quite serene. He wasn’t at all worried.
“Please, Inspector,” the sergeant said, “they are ready.”
When Dawson sat down again, Calmy-Rey looked a little more refreshed.
“Keep this short, Inspector,” DeGraft said.
Dawson reached across and put his hand gently on Calmy-Rey’s forearm, deliberately breaching a boundary. Calmy-Rey flinched.
“I understand completely,” Dawson said. “The Ghana oil find was your greatest triumph, but you thought, if I could just squeeze a bit more success out of it, gain a million dollars here, a million there. You panicked whenever production dropped because of some technical problem. Your excellent engineers would not allow any safety risks, but there were other ways to take shortcuts. Buy off Amihere, as well as members of various committees, and the Goilco people. Save millions of dollars that way. I understand.”
Calmy-Rey pulled his arm away. “I don’t think you do.”
“And neither did Lawrence Tetteh, apparently.”
Calmy-Rey folded his arms and became rather smug. “Lawrence was terribly misguided. A sanctimonious attitude in Ghana doesn’t get you anywhere, and I’m surprised he could not see that. It’s ultimately impossible to defeat corruption in a country where the MO seems to be: steal from the treasury and then turn around and ask for yet another handout from us.”
“Who is ‘us’?”
He curled his lip-just a hint of it. “The rich countries, of course,” he said. “You people constantly beg for more and more aid from us, and what happens? Nothing. You’ll never develop this way. And when I hear someone like Lawrence pontificating in language that doesn’t match the reality of life in Ghana, I just have to laugh.”
DeGraft shot his client a look of astonishment at the outburst.
“Lawrence has the nerve to call me corrupt?” Calmy-Rey continued. “It’s ridiculous.”
“And brazen,” Dawson said.
“Yes, it is.”
“I would have killed him myself if I was in your situation,” Dawson said sympathetically.
Calmy-Rey looked at him in disbelief. “What?”
Dawson shrugged. “Sometimes, murder is the only logical action to take under certain circumstances.”
Calmy-Rey’s chin trembled with emotion. He was tired, distraught, and no longer holding himself together.
Dawson leaned forward. “The flashbacks can be difficult,” he whispered. “Let me help you. Sometimes it’s good to talk about it. The impact of the bullet to his skull, him collapsing, all that blood on the floor.”
Calmy-Rey was hyperventilating.
“That’s all, Inspector,” DeGraft snapped. “Stop.”
“I’m guessing you didn’t plan to kill him originally, sir,” Dawson said. “It’s just that when you were talking to him, he remained so stubborn, so determined to publish the article, refusing to retract it.”
“Don’t say anything more,” DeGraft said to Calmy-Rey sharply.
“Did Lawrence say anything before you shot him?” Dawson asked. “Did he have any last words?”
“Stop!” DeGraft cried.
Calmy-Rey’s face crumpled and his shoulders collapsed. “He seemed to smile,” he said, “and I couldn’t understand why. Then he said the words, ‘pen drive.’ Seconds after I shot him, I realized I should have found out what he meant.”
Chapter 38
IT WAS NO SURPRISE that Dawson could not sleep that night. Like a pendulum, he went back and forth as he thought about the day’s events. Roger Calmy-Rey had fully confessed to murdering Lawrence Tetteh. However, he had not killed Charles and Fiona Smith-Aidoo, nor had he contracted anyone to kill them. It was clear. Dawson believed him. Calmy-Rey had cherished Charles and adored Fiona. Charles had been a faithful and resourceful Malgam employee and an asset to the company and Calmy-Rey. The killing simply did not fit no matter what angle Dawson tried.
Even though the hour was late, he called Christine to give her an update.
“I think it’s marvelous,” she declared.
“You do?”
“As usual, you don’t give yourself enough credit,” she chided. “You’ve done several things at once. You’ve found Tetteh’s true murderer and now an innocent man-that poor Silas-will go free. You’ve uncovered a corruption scheme, and hopefully we can now clean out these thieves at the top.”
“Yes, I suppose so.”
“You’re going to be all right, Dark. You know you get like this during a case. Come home soon, okay? We miss you.”
“I will.”
HE GAVE UP the idea of sleep and went to the sitting room where he pored over his notes page by page from the very beginning-that Tuesday the canoe containing two corpses drifted into the restricted area around the Thor Sterke, and not far away, two men in another canoe watched. They were not fishing-not on a Tuesday. They must have been the murderers, brazenly watching the scene of the crime. Who had the kind of rage needed to behead Charles Smith-Aidoo? Dawson thought about all the people he had met. Beautiful Sapphire Smith-Aidoo, the Sarbahs, DeSouza, Cardiman, Calmy-Rey, Clay, Forjoe, Gamal… perhaps even cousin Abe. Yes, he found himself reconsidering that painful possibility. A sign of just how desperate I am, he thought. What or whom had Dawson missed? A motive somewhere, an alibi, an opportunity?
He wandered outside wearing only his briefs. The cool night air bathed his skin. He looked up at the sky. The streetlamp on the corner had gone out, but Takoradi’s city lights meant it was still not dark enough to see the Milky Way. His favorite secondary school science teacher had once told him, “It’s there, but you can’t always see it.”
Just like this case, he thought. The murderer is there. I just can’t see him.
How long would it take to travel to one of those Milky Way stars? He didn’t know, but it would be a terrific alibi.
“I couldn’t have murdered the Smith-Aidoos,” he said aloud. “I was traveling to the Milky Way at the time.”
And that’s when he realized what he had missed.
ON THE WAY, Dawson called Superintendent Hammond to tell him where he was going. The superintendent told him to be careful. Dawson had the taxi drop him off well before Richard Sarbah’s house and he walked the rest of the way. When he was close, he ducked behind a neem bush. A single light sat on top of Sarbah’s gate. Forjoe was on duty as watchman, sitting not far from the spot the plumbers had been working on the pipe.
A stack of wooden boards stood to one side of the hole that dipped underneath the wall, presumably to cover the pit if it rained. Dawson intended to use it to get into the yard on the other side of the wall, but he would never be able to do that with Forjoe guarding the place. He was hoping Forjoe would get up and take a patrol around the sides and the back of the house.
For almost an hour, nothing happened. Then Forjoe stood up and stretched.
Come on, Dawson thought. Move.
Forjoe went off to the end of the wall to Dawson’s left, unzipped his fly, and stepped around the corner to urinate. Dawson moved quickly, sprinting on his toes. He went head first inside the hole. Feet first, he might well end up stuck. Either way, he found little space for both him and the water pipe. He stopped moving as he heard Forjoe’s footfall. He was returning. This could be a problem. The next piss break might not be for hours.