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Back The Missing American Save as PDF
Chapters (109)
  1. Part One
  2. ONE
  3. One day earlier
  4. TWO
  5. THREE
  6. FOUR
  7. FIVE
  8. SIX
  9. SEVEN
  10. EIGHT
  11. NINE
  12. TEN
  13. ELEVEN
  14. TWELVE
  15. THIRTEEN
  16. FOURTEEN
  17. FIFTEEN
  18. SIXTEEN
  19. SEVENTEEN
  20. EIGHTEEN
  21. NINETEEN
  22. TWENTY
  23. TWENTY-ONE
  24. TWENTY-TWO
  25. PART TWO
  26. TWENTY-THREE
  27. TWENTY-FOUR
  28. TWENTY-FIVE
  29. TWENTY-SIX
  30. TWENTY-SEVEN
  31. TWENTY-EIGHT
  32. TWENTY-NINE
  33. THIRTY
  34. THIRTY-ONE
  35. THIRTY-TWO
  36. THIRTY-THREE
  37. THIRTY-FOUR
  38. THIRTY-FIVE
  39. THIRTY-SIX
  40. THIRTY-SEVEN
  41. THIRTY-EIGHT
  42. THIRTY-NINE
  43. FORTY
  44. FORTY-ONE
  45. FORTY-TWO
  46. FORTY-THREE
  47. FORTY-FOUR
  48. FORTY-FIVE
  49. FORTY-SIX
  50. FORTY-SEVEN
  51. FORTY-EIGHT
  52. FORTY-NINE
  53. FIFTY
  54. FIFTY-ONE
  55. FIFTY-TWO
  56. FIFTY-THREE
  57. FIFTY-FOUR
  58. FIFTY-FIVE
  59. FIFTY-SIX
  60. FIFTY-SEVEN
  61. FIFTY-EIGHT
  62. FIFTY-NINE
  63. SIXTY
  64. SIXTY-ONE
  65. SIXTY-TWO
  66. SIXTY-THREE
  67. SIXTY-FOUR
  68. SIXTY-FIVE
  69. SIXTY-SIX
  70. SIXTY-SEVEN
  71. SIXTY-EIGHT
  72. SIXTY-NINE
  73. SEVENTY
  74. SEVENTY-ONE
  75. SEVENTY-TWO
  76. SEVENTY-THREE
  77. SEVENTY-FOUR
  78. SEVENTY-FIVE
  79. SEVENTY-SIX
  80. SEVENTY-SEVEN
  81. SEVENTY-EIGHT
  82. SEVENTY-NINE
  83. EIGHTY
  84. EIGHTY-ONE
  85. EIGHTY-TWO
  86. EIGHTY-THREE
  87. EIGHTY-FOUR
  88. EIGHTY-FIVE
  89. EIGHTY-SIX
  90. EIGHTY-SEVEN
  91. EIGHTY-EIGHT
  92. EIGHTY-NINE
  93. NINETY
  94. NINETY-ONE
  95. NINETY-TWO
  96. NINETY-THREE
  97. NINETY-FOUR
  98. NINETY-FIVE
  99. NINETY-SIX
  100. NINETY-SEVEN
  101. NINETY-EIGHT
  102. NINETY-NINE
  103. GLOSSARY
  104. Acknowledgments
  105. Continue reading
  106. Part One
  107. ONE
  108. TWO
  109. THREE

“No, that’s all right, Derek. You were justifiably concerned. I just wish there was something more I could do.”

“Thanks. There’s very little either of us can do but see what the investigators turn up.”

“Keep me posted. I’m keeping my fingers crossed.”

When the call ended, Cas sat still and stared into the fireplace without seeing, somewhere between numb and terrified.

FORTY-FIVE

FORTY-FIVE

May 22, Atimpoku, Ghana

It had rained hard overnight, leaving the ground sodden. Fortunately, Emma had on her jeans and trainers. This was no time for a skirt. Besides the rain, something else came down heavily last night: her period, and she was cramping. She didn’t ever want to be a man, but every month around this time she had transitory fantasies of a menstrual-free life. She’d have to wait a few decades for that.

Having washed up with the few toiletries she had bought from a convenience store, Emma was ready at a little past six when Mr. Labram arrived in his four-wheel drive Toyota Prado, which he parked on the street.

“From here, we can walk down to the shore to speak with some of the fishermen,” he explained to Emma.

They crossed the road and descended toward the river, coming to a cluster of four thatched huts and a brick building a few meters from the water’s edge. Three traditional canoes and a modern dinghy with an outboard motor were pulled up on shore.

A kilometer or so northward, the graceful arc of the Adome Bridge spanned the Volta. Looking across to the other side, Emma marveled at the breadth of the river. It was at once magnificent and daunting. How in the world could they ever recover a body from these vast waters—if it was there at all? It could be anywhere along the river’s course.

A shirtless young man of about eighteen was leaning against one of the canoes as he repaired a fishing net.

“Good morning,” Labram greeted him in Ewe.

“Morning,” he replied.

Labram continued in Ewe, introducing himself and Emma and explaining their mission. The man, whose name was Solomon, looked puzzled.

“Please, wait one moment. I will call my father.”

Emma recognized Solomon’s speech was unusual—the pronunciation rather childlike, and she understood at once that Solomon might have a mild mental deficit. He went inside the brick house and returned a few minutes later with his father, Zacharia, a fortyish version of his son.

With the customary pleasantries, Labram told Zacharia what he did in the area, and after a complicated conversation involving names of people who had lived and worked where and when, it turned out that they were probably related. After much laughter and palm slapping between the two men, Labram got down to business.

“My brother, Madam Emma here, is a detective in Accra,” he said to Solomon, switching to Twi for Emma’s benefit.