To be honest, like the engine of an antique car, the anti-corruption machine had been slow to start. Now, as Bannerman’s first term was ending and the political parties were revving up for the upcoming presidential and parliamentary elections at the end of the year, the president’s track record had been spotty—some even said too little, too late. There was some truth to the characterization that implementation was not Bannerman’s strong suit and that he was more of an idealist than a pragmatist. Privately, Akrofi thought the truth was somewhere in the middle. The bottom line was that Bannerman was now vulnerable to one man: Bernard Evans-Aidoo.

The SUV convoy swept through the gates of Jubilee House and sped across the vast square toward the presidential palace, which was built in the shape of the golden stool of the Asantehene. The Office of the President was expecting Akrofi, so from the Palace entrance to the final security door of President Bannerman’s inner sanctum, passage was quick and all the checkpoints along the way essentially a formality. Everyone knew who the IGP was: one of Bannerman’s closest friends and advisors.

Mr. President, 63, had a stern but avuncular demeanor, his charcoal ash hair suggesting wisdom. He strode forward, hand outstretched. “James! Ete sen?”

“Nyame adom, J. K.,” Akrofi said, grasping the hand with a firm, enthusiastic grip. Their eyes met and held, a testament to the strong bond between them.

“Good to see you, good to see you,” Bannerman said. “Come, let’s sit down.”

Akrofi followed the president several meters across the crimson carpet with Ghana’s coat of arms in the center. They had a 360-degree view of Accra through the tinted, floor-to-ceiling bulletproof glass, the cost of which had no doubt contributed to the bloated $50 million cost of the palace. But Akrofi didn’t find that necessarily bad. In what country was it not fashionable to complain about the extravagant residences of the ruling class?

Out of respect, Akrofi waited for the leader of the nation to sit down before he did. “How are dear Josephine and the children?” Bannerman asked, turning his body halfway toward his friend.

“Everybody is doing well, by His Grace, thank you,” Akrofi said. “Josephine is in DC at the moment winning friends and influencing people, so to speak, and then she will be in England to see Kwame.”

Bannerman’s expression softened. “How is he doing these days?”

Akrofi lowered his gaze with a touch of sadness. “You know. He has his good and bad days.”

“Yes, of course. I have faith that one day he will be well by God’s grace.”

“Thank you, J. K. I appreciate your good wishes.”

“You are always welcome,” Bannerman said. “So, let’s see what you have for me.” Akrofi handed him the folder with the report and the president read it through once.

“Outstanding,” he said at length. “This is simply first class and I like your four-part plan to eliminate corruption at the top. I think you’ve done a lot to change the culture of middle management and the junior officers, but now it’s time to target the upper echelons.”