Derek nodded, and Emma noticed how his curls caught and reflected the light from the window. “I managed to get through to the American Embassy in Accra,” Derek continued, “and believe me, it wasn’t easy. Anyway, they said they’d do what they could, but this kind of thing falls under the jurisdiction of the local authorities and so their hands were tied somewhat. I felt I had no choice, then. I had to come look for Dad myself.”

“When did you arrive?”

“May second,” Derek said. “First, I went to Kempinski Hotel and they confirmed Dad had checked out March second, and they said they weren’t aware of any issues during his stay. Then, I went up to the Riverview place in Akosombo to talk to the manager, who said Dad had notified him he would be checking out April third. But he was nowhere to be found that morning when the driver came to pick him up, and his luggage was gone as well. That suggested to me a home invasion—a robbery or burglary. So at this point, I went to the local police station—they hadn’t heard anything, so I gave them a statement, and then I went to CID Headquarters here in Accra and gave a statement to a Detective Inspector Doris something—I forgot the last name.”

“Damptey?” Sowah said.

“Yes, her.” Emma caught exasperation in his tone. “She was less than responsive, to put it mildly. Maybe she doesn’t consider it a priority to look for some American guy who’s been duped by a scam.”

“When did you last speak to her?”

“Last week. She had nothing to tell me. Not even if she had started working on any leads. I felt like I was talking to a brick wall. I spoke to one of my Ghanaian cousins who told me if I had wanted anything done, I should have given Damptey some money at the start.”

Sowah grimaced. “Unfortunately, that is how our country runs now. Money above honor, duty, or integrity.”

Derek nodded. “And I noticed that exact motto up in your waiting room—honor, duty, and integrity.”

“It’s our guiding principle,” Sowah said evenly. “If you can’t abide, you have to leave.”

“That’s good to hear in this environment,” Derek said. “When did Ghana get like this? Maybe I was too young to pay attention when I was here as a kid, but I don’t remember the country or the people like this back then.”

“Well, it wasn’t,” Sowah agreed. “I’ve been around much longer than you have, and I can say with certainty that money is more of a motivator for Ghanaians than it ever was. Money runs everything. Honest or corrupt, it doesn’t matter, and the police are possibly the worst offenders.”

Derek looked disheartened. “That’s discouraging.”

“Indeed,” Sowah said.

“What’s causing it? All this corruption, I mean.”