Emma didn’t know how to begin.

Andoh saved her the trouble. “DCOP Laryea tells me you want to transfer to the Homicide Division. Do you know you can’t do whatever you want here at CID?”

“Yes please,” she whispered.

“You think you’re special just because your father was a homicide detective?” He sounded contemptuous, which made Emma want to shrink.

“No please.”

“Eh? Speak up.”

“No, sir.”

“How do you think you will personally benefit the Homicide Division?”

Emma was undecided on how to answer. Should she continue to cower or speak her mind? “Please, I understand there aren’t many women in that unit.”

He pressed his lips together. “That’s your reason?”

“Please, I believe it’s my destiny.”

Andoh looked incredulous for a moment and then began to laugh. “You are funny,” he said. “Funny and naïve. But one thing is that you are motivated, and that is good.”

Emma felt a small wave of relief.

“If you are to get this position,” Andoh said, “then you must perform well and to my satisfaction. Do you understand?”

“Yes please. I will.”

He inclined his head. “Are you sure you can look at dead bodies? You look too soft.”

“No please,” Emma said with a tinge of indignation. “I’m not soft.”

“Come here and let me show you some photographs of homicide crime scenes and we will see how you react,” the commissioner said. “Bring the chair over with you.”

“Yes, sir.”

Emma sat to his left and he brought a laptop in front of them from the right side of the desk. After some clicks, he brought up several gruesome photographs—people butchered to death by blunt force or deep machete wounds; a woman with her throat cut almost clean through; a man hanging from a tree branch.

“These are all real cases the Homicide Division has seen,” Andoh said, looking at her. “How do you find them?”

Emma was leaning forward with fascination. “This one has a very personal signature,” she murmured, pointing at the woman with the severed neck. “Maybe her husband or boyfriend, or a family member.”

“You know about signature,” Andoh said, clearly surprised. He nodded. “Anyway, you are correct. In fact, it was the husband who murdered her. He thought she was committing adultery with the neighbor. Good job.”

“Thank you, sir,” Emma said. Her heart was racing with excitement. He seemed impressed. This was working out beyond her dreams.

“What about this one?” he asked, clicking to another image and at the same time resting his large hand on Emma’s right thigh. She flinched, startled. The commissioner’s attitude toward her had transformed. Now he was friendly, even intimate. Perhaps he was just being kind, but she felt uncomfortable.

“Constable Djan?” he pressed, and his hand shifted a little higher on her thigh. “What do you think?”

“Well,” she said, flustered and distracted, “from his injuries, it seems he was dragged to the location where he was found.”

Andoh was watching her closely. “Something like that.” He stood up, towering over her. She found him intimidating. “Come with me,” he said.