“He was supposed to pay me, but he wouldn’t,” Tedamm said. His voice had lost the growl. Now it was surprisingly soft.
“Pay you for what?”
“I found him his job at Makola Market, so he has to pay me.”
“Every week?”
“Yes.”
“So everyone you find a job has to pay you like that?”
“Of course. That’s how it is.”
“So you make a lot of money.”
“Not as much as you.”
“And you also beat up a lot of people, not so?”
“Do you even know how the life is in the streets?” Tedamm challenged. “You have to fight to be on top, and when you get on top, you have to fight to stay there. People fear me-I make them fear me, you hear?”
“You’re a bully,” Dawson said. “That’s all you are. And behind every bully is a coward. If that boy dies from your kicking him in the head, you’ll be charged with murder.”
Tedamm’s eyes met Dawson’s unflinchingly.
“Ebenezer Sarpong,” Dawson said. “Did you know him?”
Tedamm shook his head.
“Yes, you did,” Dawson said. “You told him he would be sorry if he didn’t leave his shoeshine corner in Lartebiokorshie, but he didn’t do as you told him.”
“And so what?”
Dawson slid one of Ebenezer’s autopsy photographs from the folder to Tedamm’s side of the table. “And so this.”
Tedamm’s gaze flicked down for a moment, and then back up.
“Do you know something about that?” Dawson asked.
“I know he’s dead, that’s all.”
“Not just dead. Murdered.”
“So what are you asking me for?”
“Where were you on Monday night between nine o’clock and midnight?”
“With my friends in Agbogbloshie.”
“What are the names of your friends?”
“Antwi and Ofosu.”
The same names as the two people Issa had told Dawson always followed Tedamm around.
“What about after midnight?” Dawson asked.
“We slept at Agbogbloshie.”
“Did you see Ebenezer Sarpong at any time on Monday night?”
“No.” He blinked.
“You’re lying, Tedamm. I want to warn you about something. There’s a lie detector in this room. No, don’t look up at the wall. It’s not there. It’s right here.” Dawson V-pointed to his eyes. “And in here.” He pistol-pointed to his temple. “So, one more time. Did you see Ebenezer on Monday night?”
“I saw him when he was coming back to his base. I greeted him. That’s all.”
“Did you argue with him?”
“No. About what?”
“I’m asking you.”
“I don’t waste my time with small boys like Ebenezer. He’s dead, and so what? Sorry, but I’m not going to cry for him.”
Dawson brought out a photo of Comfort and put it in front of Tedamm. “Do you know her?”
Tedamm looked down for only a second. “No.”
“More lies. You’ve already forgotten what I said. We know you were with her last night. Someone saw you with her. You, Antwi, and Ofosu. All three of you were with her.”
Tedamm looked at Dawson dispassionately. “It’s a lie. I wasn’t with her.”
“Look at the picture carefully.” Dawson brought it closer to Tedamm’s face. He drew his head back. “Here’s another one. This is how they found her. Comfort Mahama was her name. Is this what you did to her? Threw her away like rubbish?”
Tedamm turned his head away.
“We know she was raped, Tedamm. Did you do that to her?”
“I didn’t do anything.”
A faint sheen of sweat showed at the top of his forehead like light drizzle on asphalt.
“Why can’t you look at it, Tedamm? You raped her, didn’t you? Your boys Antwi and Ofosu held her down while you did it. And then you killed her.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Didn’t what? Rape her or kill her?”
“None of them.” Tedamm’s voice strengthened. His eyes narrowed. “So, why don’t you beat me now, Mr. Inspector Man? I know about you. You caught one friend of mine two years ago. The one you said raped a girl. And you beat him well, remember?”
Chikata’s head popped up like a jack-in-the-box.
Dawson was flabbergasted. Tedamm was absolutely correct. In a fit of temper that rarely troubled Dawson nowadays, he had repeatedly hit a rapist in the face after the man declared that his victims deserved what they had got.
“You broke his nose,” Tedamm continued. “You say behind every bully is a coward. So who is the coward here, apart from me?” Tedamm symbolically pointed his index finger to his right eye. “You see now?”
And Dawson did see something. Stains underneath Tedamm’s fingernails.
“Tell me about Comfort, Tedamm.”
“Tell me why you beat my friend when he didn’t do anything.”
“Just because the court didn’t find him guilty doesn’t mean he didn’t do it.”
“But why did you beat him? You made him bleed all over his face, Inspector Dawson. Why?”
A smile played at the corners of Tedamm’s lips as he locked eyes with Dawson. “When somebody says the word rape, you become like a madman.”
Dawson’s phone rang. He kept his gaze steady on Tedamm as he answered. “Hello?”
“Biney here.”
“Yes, Doc?”
“We have semen suitable for DNA testing.”
Outstanding. “And we have a suspect,” Dawson said.
“Excellent. Get me swabs and a blood sample.”
“We will. Thank you, Doctor.”
Dawson pocketed his phone. Tedamm was looking amused, but something about Dawson’s face made his smile fade.
“You’re going back to your cell now. Cuff him, Chikata.”
Tedamm leapt up. “I didn’t do anything!”
Chikata tackled him, thrusting him flat on the table, wrestling to get his wrists behind his back.
Dawson leaned on Tedamm’s shoulders to hold him still.
“Don’t fight. It’s two against one, and more outside the room.”
They guided their prisoner to a corner to face the wall. He stood breathing heavily, his torso heaving.
“Get someone here from Korle Bu to swab his cheek and his fingernails,” Dawson told Chikata. “We need blood too.”
He moved closer to Tedamm, speaking softly. “We’re going to find your friend Antwi. We’ll see if you were telling the truth.”
Tedamm shrugged his muscle-knotted shoulders.
“Oh, you don’t care, eh?” Dawson said. “When we find out whose sperm is inside Comfort and whose blood is under your fingernails, we’ll see if you still don’t care. And then we’ll see if you don’t care after you’ve been in prison so long you forget what the sky looks like.”
Tedamm turned his head and spat on the floor.
Dawson went back to Chief Superintendent Lartey’s office.
“We want to find this boy Antwi as soon as possible, sir. I need people.”
“How many?” Lartey asked, like a suspicious parent.
“At least six.”
“What, you think yours is the only case in town? We have other priorities besides your case, you know.”
“I understand, sir, and I don’t know what these other priorities are that you talk about, but-”
“Let me give you just one example,” Lartey interrupted, his voice sharp as a straight blade. “The VP of Ghana Petroleum was murdered early this morning in his house in Airport Residential. Shot execution style. Did you know about that?”
“Oh,” Dawson said. “No, I didn’t.”
“I’ve got an internationally connected oil executive dead, and you’ve got these nameless prostitutes and good-for-nothing street people. Who do you think wins?”
“It’s murder either way, sir,” Dawson said. “Prostitute or oil exec, dead is dead.”
Lartey closed his eyes for a long-suffering moment. “Four constables, Dawson. That’s all you get. And you’ll need to fill out an official request for them.”
31
Localized scleroderma. That was what Austin Ansah had. It caused the strange deformity called en coup de sabre that ran from his scalp into his forehead like an oblique lightning bolt. It could, and most probably would, become worse.