“That’s what we don’t know, but if we put two and two together, we know Ponsu deals with these so-called sakawa scammer guys, so could it be that Mr. Tilson went to talk to him about that and then got into trouble?”

“Ponsu should be questioned,” Dazz said. “Who has the case?”

“DI Damptey.”

Dazz palmed his forehead. “Oh, God.”

“Yes, her. DCS Quaino is her direct superior.”

“I’m not sure that helps,” Dazz said with a snort. “What is going on with those two?”

Laryea glowered. “I prefer not to think about it. We have a lot of dead wood floating around CID—people I would love to get rid of but can’t. More than ever, we need smarter and smarter police officers. To an extent, I think that’s happening slowly at CID. We have more university graduates than before and along with improved technology, I believe crime will suffer.”

“Is Ghana becoming more violent?” Dazz asked.

Laryea said, “It’s only recently that the police service has begun digitizing crime statistics, so at first glance, armed robbery, rape, and homicide might appear to be increasing, but it may be a function of improved records. We’ll need a few years to study the trends. What worries me is a possible increase in crime sophistication. For example, the assassination of Bernard Evans-Aidoo. That was a deadly, preplanned attack by an expert marksman.”

“Who is investigating?”

“Technically, CID in conjunction with the Bureau of National Intelligence. But the BNI, as usual, is trying to dominate.”

“Who do they suspect, do you know?” Dazz asked.

“No, I don’t, but the implications of a sniper eliminating the one threat to President Bannerman are dire. This is no small boy acting on his own. It’s more like a killing contracted by someone high up.”

“But a sniper, Uncle?” Dazz said. “Where would someone like that come from?”

“The BNI says they have reason to believe there could be secret assassins-for-hire in the ranks of military and SWAT units,” Laryea replied.

Dazz frowned. “Seriously?”

“Yes,” Laryea said, his jaw hardening. “So, bear that in mind. I’m not asking you to spy on your SWAT colleagues, but, you know, just be alert.”

“Well, if I hear anything,” Dazz said cautiously, “I’ll let you know.” He hoped he never heard anything.

“I don’t want to put you in any awkward position, though,” Laryea said quickly, as if reading his nephew’s mind.

“I understand, Uncle Cleo,” Dazz said. He hurried to fill the slightly awkward silence. “How much would an assassination job pay?”

“Upward of three-thousand cedis.”

“Wow,” Dazz said. “Impressive.”

“So, if I notice you buying a whole lot of expensive toys,” Laryea said, winking at him, “I’ll have questions.”

Dazz laughed. “Don’t worry, I would never take such a job.”

Laryea beamed. “Of course. I know that, and I trust you.”