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
The two flagellated officers sat as still and silent as they could. If only they could magically disappear.
Laryea sighed wearily and ran his hand back and forth over his hair, of which there was less and less these days. “So, where are we with the case at this moment?”
“Sir,” Quaino said, taking over, “from the beginning, Mr. Gordon’s driver has been a person of interest.”
“What driver?” Laryea said, frowning.
“Oh, sorry, sir. I didn’t explain it well. Let me start from the beginning.”
“Please do.”
“Mr. Gordon went to Akosombo on twenty-seventh March with the intention of staying five days at a private lodge by the Volta River. He rented a vehicle from a business called Executive Fleets here in Accra. They provided him with a driver called Yahya Azure. While Mr. Gordon was at the lodge, Yahya stayed nearby in Atimpoku. On the morning of third April when Mr. Gordon was to return to Accra, Yahya told us that when he arrived to pick up Mr. Gordon, the gentleman did not respond to his texts or calls. Yahya claims the front door of the lodge was open, so he went inside to discover that Mr. Gordon was nowhere to be found and his luggage was also not there.”
Laryea nodded. This was how a narrative was supposed to be done. “Okay, go on.”
“So, Mr. Yahya called the owner, one Mr. Labram, who came down to also have a look and confirmed that Mr. Gordon had disappeared along with his luggage and laptop and phone and everything.”
“You spoke to Mr. Labram yourself?” Laryea asked.
“Yes please. On the phone.”
“What happened after that?”
“Mr. Yahya returned to Accra and his employer sacked him, saying he was ultimately responsible for the safety of the clients.
“DI Damptey and I then conducted a search of the vehicle that Mr. Gordon had used, but we found nothing—no traces of blood or anything like that. Mr. Yahya also gave us permission to search his house in Shukura and at first everything was normal until DI Damptey, to her credit, found a dark brown jacket of fine quality that Yahya had been keeping in his room in a plastic bag. When we asked him about it, Yahya said Mr. Gordon had accidentally left it in the rental vehicle on the eve of their departure from Akosombo, and so Yahya kept it with him in the bag with the intention of giving the jacket back to Mr. Gordon in the morning. But, of course, in the morning, the white man was gone and Yahya held on to the jacket for safekeeping, so no one at the car rental would steal it.”
“What did Yahya plan to do with it eventually?” Laryea asked.