“When you and I first met,” Dawson said, “Mr. Huang told me that your brother Bao came to Ghana about three years ago, correct?”
Wei, resting his forehead in one palm, nodded.
“Mr. Liu, I need you to answer my questions so that we can hear you.” Dawson said. “After Bao was here for two years, he wanted Lian to join him, and he asked you to accompany her, am I right?”
“Yes.”
“You and Lian love each other, not so?”
Wei shifted his weight. “Yes,” he said sullenly.
“When did you fall in love with each other? In China, before Bao and Lian got married?”
Wei shook his head. “No. After they marry.” He sighed. “Sometimes, Bao go away to do mining for one month, two month-leave Lian alone.”
“So you used to keep her company,” Dawson prompted, thankful Wei seemed to be emerging from his cold, hard shell. “And that’s how it happened that you fell in love.”
“Yes.”
“And Bao never knew about it?”
Wei sneered slightly. “No.” He shrugged. “And he don’t love her either.”
“I see,” Dawson said, pausing. “Then when Bao left China for Ghana, you and Lian were left together for two years?”
“We were happy,” Wei said, with sudden enthusiasm. “Very happy.”
“I understand. How did you feel when Bao asked Lian to come to Ghana?”
Wei shook his head. “Lian not want to leave China, but she have to obey her husband. Only thing, she happy I go with her.”
“And while you were here,” Dawson said, “you continued to be with her whenever you had a chance and Bao was away.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You said Bao didn’t love Lian. Why do you say that?”
“He don’t love her like I love her,” Wei said fiercely, pointing at his heart.
“Did Lian hate Bao?”
Wei nodded. “Yes.”
“And you hated Bao too?”
The Chinese man shook his head. “I never hate Bao. Only love Lian.”
“Did Lian ask you to kill Bao?”
“No!” Wei exclaimed in alarm, perhaps realizing that his words were being misconstrued. “She never do that.”
“But you wanted to kill Bao,” Dawson said, “so that you could have Lian to yourself. Just like you had her to yourself for two years in China.”
“No,” Wei said flatly.
“I know you killed your brother, Wei,” Dawson said evenly.
“No.” He gestured simply by turning his palms up. “How I kill him? I sleep Feng house by that time, but you wan’ me say I kill Bao because you Ghanaian guy and you no like the Chinese people. You know is that guy Yaw who kill Bao, but you wan’ me take blame.”
And there, Dawson conceded, Wei had him in a corner that was going to be difficult to get out of.
Tired, Dawson set off for home. The afternoon had worn on and worn him down. He would try again with Wei in the morning. The man was bound to confess. But a small voice nagged at Dawson. Are you sure Yaw Okoh is not the killer? Was Dawson hunting for something that simply wasn’t there? Was he really biased against Wei because he was Chinese? It was the first time an accusation like that had come up in Dawson’s career.
When Dawson got into the house, he heard the boys in hysterics and found them watching a DVD on the laptop while Christine was cooking. He glanced at the screen, saw they were watching a cartoon, and then went to his wife’s side to put an arm around her waist.
“Mm, smells delicious,” he said, lifting the pot lid and getting a whiff of heavenly groundnut stew. “I’m famished.”
She smiled at him. “We’ll eat in a few minutes. Just boiling the yam.”
“What’s so funny, guys?” Dawson asked, sitting down at the table.
Hosiah and Sly looked at each other conspiratorially and started to giggle.
Dawson sent an inquiring glance at Christine.
“I’ll tell you exactly what they’re laughing at,” she said, appearing miffed. “They’re watching a cartoon called The Sleepy Hippo or something like that, and they say when the hippopotamus starts to snore, it sounds like me.”
This sent the two boys into stitches again, with Hosiah almost falling out of his chair. “Look, Daddy,” he said. “I’ll show you.”
Dawson waited while Hosiah found the right spot on the DVD where the hippo sank to the ground and began to snore. Sly and Hosiah looked at Dawson for his reaction, and as much as he tried to keep his face straight, he could not hold his snort in. Seconds later, he was stifling laughter as the boys went weak with hilarity.
“Oh, you too?” Christine said, shooting Dawson a daggered look. “Look, I don’t snore. You guys are crazy.”
Through the boys’ giggles, Dawson told them to put the laptop away and get washed up for dinner, both because the joke had outstayed its welcome and because he was hungry.
But as the family ate and talked, Dawson gave more thought to the sleepy hippo, and then he began to understand who murdered Bao Liu and how.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
En route to Kumasi Headquarters, Dawson heard the doubt in DCOP Manu’s voice as he spoke to her on the phone and tried to explain why he needed an emergency search warrant, which a senior officer was authorized to sign.
“It can’t wait for a magistrate’s approval, madam,” Dawson said. That tedious process could take a day or more. “By that time, we may have to release the suspects.”
She sighed. “I’m in a meeting right now. We are about to interview Commander Longdon. I will call you as soon as I’m done.”
“Um, madam, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble to do it immediately,” Dawson said in his best suppliant voice, “I would appreciate it, because actually I’m on the way to you now and will be there in about fifteen minutes.”
Manu said something under her breath that Dawson didn’t quite hear. “All right,” she said, defeated. “Hurry up.”
Asase drove the police jeep, Dawson sat in the front next to him, and the Lius sat in the backseat. They arrived at Wei’s house, and David let the vehicle into the front yard of the house, watching with curiosity as the group alighted, including the Lius in handcuffs.
The warrant was for the entire premises, both inside and outside the house, but they would start with inside. Asase and Dawson guided the prisoners to the sofa in the sitting room and they sat down.
“We are examining all pieces of electronic equipment,” Dawson told Asase. “Search the bedroom for any computer, laptop, tablet, phone, and bring them out here if you find any. I will start on these.”
Asase disappeared into the bedroom. The sitting room center table held Wei’s Samsung tablet, an iPad, two Xiaomi phones, and a laptop, which Dawson asked Wei to turn on and access with his password. Dawson looked at the browser history, which showed sites selling mining equipment, from large machines like excavators to smaller items such as sluice boxes.
On the Samsung, Dawson found Chinese news sites and a few for downloading Chinese movies, but the history was otherwise uninteresting. One of the phones was inoperable, and the other had an insignificant browsing history. The iPad was pretty new and had little on it besides the software that came with it.
Asase came out of the bedroom with another mobile phone and put it on the table. It looked newer and sleeker than the other two.
“Which of these phones do you use?” Dawson asked Wei.
He pointed at the newest one, and Dawson asked him to open up to messages. But Wei had the phone set to Chinese, and Dawson had no idea what the messages said.
Dawson hadn’t found what he wanted. He and Asase looked through the kitchen as well, to no avail.
“Let’s go outside,” Dawson said. “We’ll take the suspects with us.”
The small wooden shed behind which Dawson had hidden after following Lian into the yard seemed inconsequential, but it was all that was left to search.