“He won’t suspect?” Bruno said.

“If you have the spiritual powers,” Nii said, “he can never suspect. He will be somehow confused and just keep sending the cash.”

“So, like me, for example, can I get the powers?”

“Of course, but you have to work with Kweku Ponsu. To start, you will take two chickens to him—” Nii stopped talking and looked up as he heard male voices and the scuffle of boots. He put a finger to his lips to tell the others to shut up, ran low to the window, looked out, and then swung back. “Police!”

The boys scrambled to their feet, trying to put all their devices away. Too late.

The door exploded open and four police officers charged in yelling, their automatic weapons pointed. Thinking quickly and clearly, Nii dropped to the ground flat on his stomach, arms outstretched. A couple of his companions weren’t so lucky. The officers clubbed them down into submission.

“Get them all!” a harsh female voice ordered, a sound resembling a piece of metal dragged over rutted asphalt. Nii didn’t need to look up to see who she was. Detective Inspector Doris Damptey. She and Nii Kwei knew each other well. He relaxed, climbing down from his fight-or-flight state.

The officers cuffed the sakawa bunch and ordered them to sit up. The boys kept their gaze down—all except Nii Kwei.

“Heh!” Damptey yelled at them. “Look up! Foolish sakawa boys. Do you think we don’t know all about you people and your evil ways?”

Her legs were set far apart like pillars at the corners of her box frame. If a headmistress and Gaboon Viper got together, DI Doris Damptey would be the result: authoritarian, slow-moving, and venomous.

Nii smiled secretly. “We beg you, oo, madam,” he said with exaggerated penitence.

She sucked her teeth in disdain. “You say you beg me? Ah, stupid! We are going to take you to Dansoman station right now and then you will see how to really beg. Kwasea! This sakawa thing you are doing is bad.”

“We are sorry,” Nii said. “We won’t do it again.”

“Yes, because you will be in jail,” Damptey said, curling her lip.

“I beg you, madam.”

“Empty begging doesn’t do anything whilst we are all hungry,” Damptey said. The officers, silent, folded their arms and leaned against the wall.

Nii looked at his companions and back to Damptey. “Maybe I can help you chop small.”

“Five hundred,” she said.

“I only have three,” Nii Kwei lied. Damptey wouldn’t check.

“Okay, okay,” Damptey said impatiently. She signaled her officers to uncuff Nii first and then his mates. Nii counted out bills from his wallet and gave them to Damptey, whose greedy eyes had lit up.

The officers marched all but Nii outside, where a handful of press photographers was idly waiting. Tomorrow morning, the boys would be in the papers, demonstrating what a great job the Ghana police were doing to stamp out this growing menace to society.