As they were talking, CSU arrived. There were four of them, including Bright.
“We meet again,” Dawson said.
“And in the same kind of place,” Bright observed. “Smelly and dirty.”
“Aptly put,” Botswe said. “Part and parcel of the signature.”
Bright looked at him, wondering who he was. Dawson introduced them.
Chikata came up. “Dawson, Issa is with a friend who says he might know the victim.”
“Good,” Dawson said. “Let’s go and talk to him.”
Dawson followed Chikata to where Issa and his friend stood next to the gutter.
“Hi, Issa,” Dawson said. “What’s happening?”
“This is Jonathan,” Issa said, indicating the boy beside him. “He says maybe he knows the dead girl.”
Jonathan looked to be sixteen or so. He had a lazy eye. “I heard someone say her name is Comfort,” he said, “and I know a girl called Comfort.”
“Who is that someone?” Dawson asked.
“I don’t know the man,” Jonathan said. “He was here earlier, but he’s gone now. I heard him telling people that he recognized that girl and that her name is Comfort and that she’s a head porter at Agbogbloshie Market.”
“What did this man look like?”
“Tall,” Jonathan said, lifting his right hand high above his head. “And thin like he hasn’t eaten for two months.”
“How old?”
“Maybe… thirty? I don’t know. He looks old.”
“Was he wearing some colorful clothes?” Issa said.
“Eh-heh, yes,” Jonathan said. “Some crazy orange and purple clothes.”
“Then that must be Flash,” Issa said. “The prostitutes at Timber Market pay him to use a tent belonging to Tedamm.”
Tedamm. Again.
“And you think you might know the same Comfort this guy Flash was talking about?” Dawson asked Jonathan.
“I know one Comfort Mahama who is a kayayo at Agbogbloshie Market.”
“Are you willing to look at the body and identify her if possible?”
Jonathan looked nervously at Issa, who said to Dawson, “Please, can I go with him? He’s afraid.”
“Sure.”
The three of them walked over to where the girl lay under the sheet.
Dawson looked at Jonathan. “Ready?”
Issa put his arm around his friend’s shoulders. Jonathan swallowed and nodded.
Dawson uncovered the girl’s head, shining his flashlight on her.
“Yes,” Jonathan said tightly. “It’s her.”
“You’re sure?” Dawson said.
“Please, yes, I’m sure.”
Issa drew in his breath sharply, looking at Dawson in surprise.
“What’s wrong?” Dawson said.
“Please, she’s the same girl I saw with Tedamm and his boys tonight.”
28
Chikata stood slightly behind Dawson in the morgue at the autopsy table as Dr. Biney looked over Comfort’s body. It was his first autopsy of the morning.
“Age sixteen to seventeen,” Biney said. “There’s a penetrating knife wound to the back on the right side, identical to the two previous cases we’ve seen.”
“Any mutilations like Musa’s?” Dawson asked.
“Yes, there are.”
George, the venerable morgue attendant, turned the corpse over.
“Here are those mutilations, Inspector,” Dr. Biney said. “Deep wounds to both knees inflicted well beyond the joint capsule, followed by excision of both patellae. In other words, wholesale removal of the kneecaps. Almost as if he scooped them out.”
“Like the amputation of Musa’s fingers.”
“Yes, but there’s something else. I see signs she was raped.”
“Raped,” Dawson said, startled. “Oh. Now I’m confused.”
“Why?” Chikata asked.
“Rape says sexual homicide,” Dawson said, “and that’s not what the other two were.”
“Maybe Dr. Botswe can shed some light on this?” Biney suggested.
“I agree,” Dawson said. “I had him come to the crime scene, so I’ll go back and tell him about this rape thing.”
“Were there any helpful leads at all at the scene?”
“We’re looking for two people who may be involved,” Dawson said, “and they appear to know each other-the ubiquitous Tedamm and a new character known as Flash. We searched for them last night but came up short.”
Dawson glanced at his detective sergeant, whose fine forehead had begun to bead with sweat. He didn’t look too good.
“What’s wrong with you, Chikata?”
“I feel somehow hot.”
“That’s because you’re getting faint,” Biney said. “You’d better go outside for some fresh air.”
Chikata walked out quickly.
“Good call, Inspector,” Biney said, with a smile. “This place can get to you after a while. Another few seconds he would have been on the floor.”
“He’s on the squeamish side,” Dawson said, with a tint of disdain.
“Low threshold, I call it,” Biney said. “What’s next in your investigation?”
“We have to find Tedamm and Flash. If you don’t mind, I’ll leave you to do the rest of the post without me.”
“Of course. I’ll call you later with the full report.”
As Dawson got to the door, he hesitated. For several days now, he had been turning something over in his mind, something he had been planning. The only question was, When was the right moment?
“Something else, Inspector?” Biney said.
Now was the time.
“Doctor, I wanted to discuss something with you, if you wouldn’t mind,” Dawson said falteringly. “It has nothing to do with any of the cases.”
“But of course. Let me get off all this garb and we can talk in the office.”
They went back together to a bare, echoing room and sat side by side at the table where the pathologists usually wrote up their final reports.
“How can I help, Inspector?”
“I know I mentioned my son, Hosiah, to you when we first met,” Dawson started. “What I didn’t tell you at the time is that he has a ventricular septal defect.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Is he doing all right?”
“I’m afraid not. He’s slowly getting worse, in spite of his medicines and salt restriction. He needs the surgery, but we’re up against a sum of money we simply can’t afford, and what we have in savings is still meager compared to the amount we need. We made an appeal to Korle Bu for financial clemency, but that was turned down. We didn’t qualify for a personal bank loan either.”
“The Ghana Police Service can’t help?”
“They can reimburse us. However we have to pay for the operation first. I’m not asking you for money, Dr. Biney-I wouldn’t do that. I’m just hoping you might have a suggestion as to what my wife and I can do at this point.”
“It’s a dire situation for you,” Biney said sympathetically. “If I were a cardiac surgeon, I would perform the operation myself and not charge you one pesewa. Alas, I’m not that. But there still might be some way I can help. I know the director of the Cardiothoracic Center, Dr. Solomon Gyan. Let me talk to him about it and see if we can work something out.”
“Thank you so much, Doctor,” Dawson said, brightening. This sounded promising.
“Of course I can’t guarantee anything,” Biney cautioned hastily, “and it may take me a little time. Give me a few weeks to work on it. Dr. Gyan is constantly out of town.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” Dawson said again. “This means a lot to me.”
“Don’t mention it at all, Inspector. This is what friendship is all about.” With a twinkle in his eye, Biney added, “So when I show up at CID with a sticky problem, I’m marching straight to your office.”
The two men laughed together.
His heart uplifted, Dawson joined Chikata outside and they returned to the railway station to ask around for Tedamm. The name was from the northern regions, so they thought one of the kayaye might know him. But no one had seen him around.