The new Center Against Corruption (CAC) was President Bannerman’s brainchild. A month after completing its construction on the premises behind the CID building, the grand opening, evening gala, and fundraiser were in full swing. Cream in color, the floodlit, colonnaded edifice appeared luminescent and classic against the night sky. The courtyard within accommodated hundreds of well-heeled partygoers coiffed and dressed to the nines. Everyone who was anyone in Accra was in attendance, most of them undoubtedly keen for a chance to chat with the president. Getting to him was easier said than done, however. Apart from his entourage of closest associates, he had a flank of personal, armed bodyguards.

In general, with military and SWAT present, security was heavy. Both Dazz and Edwin were on duty, Dazz on the rooftop and Edwin patrolling the grounds. At midnight, Edwin would switch places with another team member at the front entrance.

James and Josephine Akrofi were among those lucky enough to be in President Bannerman’s inner circle. The Akrofis were big donors to the new center and their names were already up on the brass-plated list of patrons. The conversation was lively and the champagne bubbly. A DJ was spinning tunes and there was a small dance floor. Shortly after midnight, Josephine whispered to James that she needed to get something from the car. He nodded.

When Josephine reached the front, Edwin was keeping an eye on the parking lot and surroundings.

“Madam, can I help you with anything?”

“Please escort me to my car, officer.”

“Yes, of course, madam.”

He walked alongside her. Their shoes created an irregular rhythm on the asphalt. “How are you, Edwin?” she said quietly.

“I’m fine, Mummy. And you?”

“I’m good. It’s been quite some time since we spoke. Why don’t you call more often?”

“Sorry. I should do that. You look very nice tonight, by the way.”

“Thank you.” She smiled at him as they passed a row of shiny SUVs, still the vehicle of choice for the well off. A few chauffeurs were hanging around talking to pass the time.

“Where are we going?” she asked him.

He pointed ahead. “Over there.”

At the end of the parking lot was a not-yet-open garden of shrubs and shade trees, a seating area with tables and chairs, and what was to be a bar with soft drinks and snacks for the center’s employees. The only illumination of this corner came from the lamps in the parking area. Now, Edwin and Josephine were in the shadows.

They sat down together.

“Do you ever speak to your father?” Josephine asked.

Edwin grunted. “He doesn’t even mind me. Even at CID, it’s like I’m not even there.”

She squeezed his hand. “Don’t worry, eh?”

“I’m not at all worried,” Edwin said.

“That’s good.”

“And Kwame, how is he?”