“No problem. Is that it for today?” Chikata said.
“Why?” Dawson asked knowingly. “Where are you going tonight?”
“There’s a private party tonight at the Champs Bar at Stellar. Do you want to come?”
“No, thank you.”
“Come on,” Chikata said, laughing as he went to the door. “Your wife isn’t here.”
“I prefer to stay out of trouble.” A thought occurred to Dawson. “What kind of party is this?”
“I don’t really know. The manager of Champs invited me.”
That was typical for Chikata. People invited him to everything.
“While you’re there,” Dawson said thoughtfully, “keep your ears open for anything interesting. For example, I understand there was a rumor that Fiona Smith-Aidoo was having an affair. See if you dig up anything like that.”
“Okay, boss, I will.”
“And don’t get drunk,” Dawson called out. “I need you fresh for tomorrow.”
Chapter 22
IN THE MORNING, DAWSON was just out of the shower when Chief Superintendent Lartey called to ask how the case was progressing. Dawson gave him a quick summary of events so far.
“Move it along,” Lartey said crisply. “I need you and Philip back as quickly as possible. Cases are coming in all the time, and I want both of you to attend a new forensics course in two weeks.”
First he rushes me here to Takoradi. Now he’s trying to rush me back to Accra.
“How is Philip doing?” Lartey asked.
“Fine, sir. Very comfortable at the hotel.”
If the chief super detected the jab, he didn’t let on. “I want you to give him more free rein. Let him take the lead as much as possible. I’d like him to move up to inspector when you get to chief inspector. That is, if you do. How you perform on this case might determine that.”
Not that you’re trying to pressure me, Dawson thought. “Yes, of course, sir.”
He was glad to get off the phone with his boss as he answered a knock on the door. It was Chikata.
“How was the party?” Dawson asked as he invited him in.
“I’ve seen better,” Chikata said.
“Did you hear anything useful?”
Chikata dropped into the sitting room chair. “I was talking to a woman who used to work in Smith-Aidoo’s corporate affairs department. She says she resigned, but I got the feeling she might have been sacked. Anyway, she was boasting that Takoradi has a much lower crime rate compared to Accra, and I said, wasn’t Charles Smith-Aidoo brutally murdered some months ago? I didn’t tell her what I do, by the way. She was drinking and her tongue was loose, so I got her to say more. She told me she had heard that Fiona was having an affair with some businessman in town, and maybe it was the businessman that killed her and Charles.”
“Oh, really?” Dawson said with interest. “That’s the second time I’ve heard reference to her possible involvement with a businessman. Did she give a name?”
“No. She said she had heard it was a banker, then she changed it to an oilman, then a bookstore owner, and all this time she was leaning on me and giggling and breathing her alcohol fumes on me. I couldn’t keep her on the subject. She kept asking me if we could go upstairs to my room.”
Chikata pulled a face, indicating just what he thought of that idea.
“Come on, let’s go.” Dawson said as he heard the sound of Baah’s taxi pulling up. “I’m going to introduce you to Superintendent Hammond.”
“Ah, right. Is he going to be glad to see me?”
“I doubt that very much.”
BAAH PULLED up in front of the police headquarters, and Dawson and Chikata alighted. They went inside where Dawson knocked on Hammond’s door, opened it, and put his head in.
“Good morning, sir.”
“Morning. Come in.”
Dawson introduced Hammond to Chikata, who received only a curt nod from the superintendent.
“Kwesi DeSouza called me this morning to lodge a complaint against you,” Hammond said to Dawson.
“A complaint? Regarding what?”
“You made sarcastic and discourteous comments to him, you insisted on repeating questions that we have already dealt with, and after you saw him in his offices at STMA, you hounded him at TTI while he was supervising exams.”
“Questioning possible suspects is harassment? In that case, we might as well do nothing, sir.”
“There you are,” Hammond said, flipping his palm up demonstratively. “Did you hear what you just said and how you said it? Exactly the sarcasm Mr. DeSouza is talking about. Coming from CID Headquarters doesn’t give you any right to insult people. We are a closely knit community here, and we behave differently than people do in Accra. You have to respect that.”
“I was in no way discourteous to the man,” Dawson said coolly. “He felt insulted because he has an overinflated opinion of himself and thinks that as the chief executive of the STMA, he’s somehow above being questioned. He could be the president of Ghana, for all I care. If there’s a need to interrogate him fifty times, I will go back and do so fifty times.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Dawson saw Chikata freeze and hold his breath. For several moments, Hammond stared at Dawson in consternation. “What about you, Inspector Dawson?” he said finally. “Do you not have an inflated opinion yourself?”
Dawson mentally dismissed the question as irrelevant. “Would you like to hear what I learned from Mr. DeSouza that might be useful information, sir?”
“Go ahead,” Hammond said churlishly.
“He said there is, or was, a rumor that Fiona Smith-Aidoo was having an affair, but he could not say with whom. Sergeant Chikata has also heard that from a second source.”
“There are all sorts of rumors all the time,” Hammond contested. “Doesn’t mean they’re true.”
Dawson remained steadfast. “Yes, but Chikata and I will keep it in the back of our minds and follow up on it. I also interviewed Mr. Cardiman on Saturday.”
“And?”
“I agree it’s difficult to see how he could have ambushed the Smith-Aidoo’s vehicle.”
“So you went all the way to Cape Three Points to establish that,” Hammond said condescendingly.
“But if there was an accomplice-”
“Who? What accomplice?”
“Well, I don’t know that yet, but-”
“Okay, okay,” Hammond said impatiently. “Work on that theory, if you like. I don’t know what you’ll get out of it, but it’s up to you. Regarding Mr. Smith-Aidoo’s mobile, I went to Vodafone, and they did a trace on the Lawrence Tetteh that Mr. Smith-Aidoo was communicating with. It’s not Tetteh, the CEO at Goilco. So we don’t need to concern ourselves with that question anymore.”
Dawson tensed as a hot streak flashed across his left palm like lightening. He paused a moment to let it subside. “Thank you for finding that out, sir.”
“No problem.”
Dawson’s phone rang, and he picked up the call. It was Jason Sarbah.
“I’ve spoken with Mr. Calmy-Rey, Inspector,” he said. “He will be available to meet with you at nine o’clock tomorrow morning at our offices. He is located on the top floor. You will be escorted there as soon as you arrive at reception.”
“Thank you very much, Mr. Sarbah.”
“You are welcome, Inspector.”
Dawson ended the call. “I have a meeting with Mr. Calmy-Rey tomorrow morning,” he told Hammond.
“Okay.”
“Were you able to interrogate him back in July, sir?”
“Yes. He had been out of the country at the time of the murder. He obviously thought very highly of Smith-Aidoo-no motive whatsoever to kill him or have him killed. Please, Inspector Dawson, do not antagonize Mr. Calmy-Rey.”
“I don’t intend to, sir,” Dawson said pleasantly. “Just one other thing I forgot to ask before. On the postmortem report by the pathologist Dr. Cudjoe, he didn’t mention gunpowder burns around Fiona Smith-Aidoo’s entrance wound. Did either of you attend the postmortem?”