Chapters (109)
- Part One
- ONE
- One day earlier
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- PART TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- FORTY-TWO
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-FOUR
- FORTY-FIVE
- FORTY-SIX
- FORTY-SEVEN
- FORTY-EIGHT
- FORTY-NINE
- FIFTY
- FIFTY-ONE
- FIFTY-TWO
- FIFTY-THREE
- FIFTY-FOUR
- FIFTY-FIVE
- FIFTY-SIX
- FIFTY-SEVEN
- FIFTY-EIGHT
- FIFTY-NINE
- SIXTY
- SIXTY-ONE
- SIXTY-TWO
- SIXTY-THREE
- SIXTY-FOUR
- SIXTY-FIVE
- SIXTY-SIX
- SIXTY-SEVEN
- SIXTY-EIGHT
- SIXTY-NINE
- SEVENTY
- SEVENTY-ONE
- SEVENTY-TWO
- SEVENTY-THREE
- SEVENTY-FOUR
- SEVENTY-FIVE
- SEVENTY-SIX
- SEVENTY-SEVEN
- SEVENTY-EIGHT
- SEVENTY-NINE
- EIGHTY
- EIGHTY-ONE
- EIGHTY-TWO
- EIGHTY-THREE
- EIGHTY-FOUR
- EIGHTY-FIVE
- EIGHTY-SIX
- EIGHTY-SEVEN
- EIGHTY-EIGHT
- EIGHTY-NINE
- NINETY
- NINETY-ONE
- NINETY-TWO
- NINETY-THREE
- NINETY-FOUR
- NINETY-FIVE
- NINETY-SIX
- NINETY-SEVEN
- NINETY-EIGHT
- NINETY-NINE
- GLOSSARY
- Acknowledgments
- Continue reading
- Part One
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
“Mr. Tilson told me he want to leave at seven,” he said, “so I arrive there by six-fifty. I text him say I’m waiting for him outside, but he don’t reply. By five past seven, I went and knock on the door, but no answer. So, I call him on the phone. No answer again. So, I try the door and it’s open. I went inside but no one is there. His bags—everything gone.”
“How many bags did he bring with him?”
“Two—a small one for his clothes and another for his laptop.”
“And his mobile phone and laptop were gone too?”
“Yes please.”
It could have been a robbery gone awry, Emma supposed, but she really didn’t think so.
“I thought maybe he decide to get another car service,” Yahya continued, “but why should he do that? I had Mr. Labram number, so I call him and he came down. He was axing me, ‘oh, did I see any other car here when I arrived?’ and I say no. Even, I call my boss and ask her if any complaint or maybe Mr. Tilson tell her he want a different driver, but she tell me nothing like that have happened.” Gaze downward, defeated, Yahya wiped his perspiring face and shaved head with a ragged washcloth.
Emma thought of Kafui’s description of the SUV on the Adome bridge. “What kind of vehicle were you using to transport Mr. Tilson?”
“Toyota 4×4.”
“What color was it, please?”
“Black one.”
“Okay,” she said. That would also fit Kafui’s description.
Yahya looked up in some distress. “Madam, I don’t have anything to do with the oburoni make lost. For what reason? He was paying the company, paying my food and lodging every day and for that I will kill him and take his things? No! That lady detective Damptey over and over again she was axing me if I robbed the man and killed him and then buried him somewhere. Ah! How possible?” Yahya gestured at his body. “Look! Do you see any muscles that I can kill this fat American man?”
“Did Madam Doris question you in person?”
Yahya shook his head. “She call me on the phone. Mr. Labram give her my number.”
“Did you know Mr. Labram before now?”
“Yes, yes,” Yahya said. “I know him well. We have been taking tourists to that Riverview house long time now.”
Was it remotely possible that the two men on the bridge had been Labram and Yahya, and the SUV could have belonged to either Labram or to Yahya’s vehicle rental company? Both men had unimpeded opportunities to commit the crime, but what would be their motive? You don’t amputate the hand that feeds you: Mr. Tilson was a potential returning customer for both men. It simply didn’t make sense.
“Do you know Kweku Ponsu?” Emma asked, trying another angle.
“The fetish priest?”
“Yes.”