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
Gordon flapped his hand backward. “Okay, so I am upset, okay? No money is free, Nii. Ever. You might steal some, or even a lot, but one day it’s all going to backfire on you. And all you guys—the sakawa boys, the police, and government big wigs you’re in league with? I can’t wait for you to be exposed, and I’m going to play whatever part I can to make sure that happens.”
Susan rested her forehead in her palm. “Jesus, Gordon.”
Nii stared at Gordon. “Please, the way you are talking is not correct at all. We Ghanaians are hospitable to a point, but after that, the hospitality dries up like a stream in the Harmattan.” He stood up.
“Nii,” Susan said, half standing, “please don’t go. I’m sorry.”
But Nii did walk out, and in disgust. This is what he came for—to be insulted by this white guy? He got into the Audi, slammed the door, backed out, and gunned the engine. The tires screeched and painted a layer of rubber on the driveway.
Gordon’s affront gave Nii’s defensiveness a boost, a branch to swing from. Someone like that deserved to be conned, and Nii wasn’t one bit sorry about it. He voice-dialed a number on the Audi phone, and when the person at the other end picked up, Nii said, “That man Tilson is in Ghana, and he’s becoming a problem.”
SEVENTY-FIVE
SEVENTY-FIVE
July 5, Accra, Ghana
The International Trade Fair site, not far from Labadi Beach, is 120 acres of open space, part history as an Nkrumah-era relic of 1960s Ghana, and part modern with its event spaces for anything from weddings to international conferences. As such, it’s an odd mix of updated design with deteriorating infrastructure.
The Africa Pavilion, with a capacity of up to three-thousand people, was the setting for the UNESCO Conference at which Sana was to speak. Dignitaries were arriving at the grand entrance where the Information Minister and other officials welcomed them to the first day of the meeting. Sana Sana was the keynote speaker for the morning plenary session.
Security at the event was medium, with uniformed armed police and military at the entrance and minimally armed guards in the car park. The gaggle of photographers was normal, but on this occasion, the tension and sense of excitement were high because Sana Sana was expected.
About five-hundred meters away ran an enclosing wall and behind that a robust mango tree dense with leaves and ripening fruit. It wasn’t the best place for the assassin to securely position himself and his long-range rifle, but it was the only available fixture in this otherwise rather barren stretch of land. It was an underdeveloped area begging for developers to get their hands on, and indeed, several investors had made a bid for it.