TWENTY-FIVE

April 14, Accra, Ghana

Emma returned home after a day at the mall selling Apple devices. It was almost ten. She cooked dinner with the TV news on in the background.

Her phone rang, but she didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?”

“Emma Djan?”

“Who is speaking, please?”

“My name is Yemo Sowah.”

For a brief second, Emma forgot who that was, but then she remembered and her heart leapt. “Oh, yes, sir. Good evening, sir.”

“Sorry to call so late, Miss Djan.” His voice was soft and a little husky, like wet leaves.

“It’s no problem, please.” Emma sat down.

“DCOP Laryea called me about three months ago. He said you had left the police service but he recommended you highly.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“At the time, I had no vacancy, but I now have an open position. Are you still interested?”

Emma felt giddy. “Yes, sir.” Her voice came out hoarse, so she cleared her throat and repeated herself.

“Good,” he said. “I’d like to see you tomorrow morning, if possible.”

“Of course, sir.”

“Do you have a job elsewhere?” Sowah asked.

“No please,” she lied. She wasn’t going to let anything jeopardize her shot at this.

“Excellent. Then I’ll see you at eight sharp.”

At seven in the morning, Emma arrived at the Sowah Private Investigators Agency at 101 Limomo Walk in Asylum Down, a district named because it was a short distance downhill from the psychiatric hospital. She was so early it was no surprise the office wasn’t open yet. The front door had a frosted glass pane emblazoned with the agency’s name.

Idly scrolling through the news feed on her phone, Emma hung around. At about seven-thirty, a smartly dressed woman with flawless braids and impossibly high heels approached the door with keys in hand.

“Good morning,” she said, giving the visitor an inquiring look.

“Good morning, madam. My name is Emma Djan.”

“Oh, yes, I remember,” the woman said, unlocking the door. “The boss said to expect you. I’m Beverly, his assistant. You can come in and wait for him.”

They entered a foyer and Beverly turned on the lights. “Please have a seat,” she said to Emma, pointing to the seating area at one end.

A desk with a computer, printer, and filing cabinet in an alcove on the opposite side of the foyer turned out to be where Beverly did her work. It was comfortable but rather small.

Apart from offering Emma some water, Beverly said almost nothing as she set up for the day. But at precisely 8 a.m., she beckoned to Emma. “Please follow me.”

Beverly unlocked a second door which opened into an open area with workstations and computers. The five desks were laden with large envelopes and dog-eared folders. Beverly’s heels clicked precisely with her quick efficient steps as she led Emma down a short corridor. At the end of that was an open door where Beverly put her head in and announced Emma’s arrival.

“Very good. Please let her come in.” It was the live version of Sowah’s phone voice.