He took her hand gently and gave it a quick squeeze. “You are very brave.”

She nodded, but she was desolate. “Maybe now they will kill me for what I’ve done.”

“Never. I won’t let anyone kill you.”

“I’m afraid.”

“I know.”

They were both quiet for a moment.

“You hid the knife?” Dawson asked her.

She nodded. “It’s in a safe place in the forest.”

“Good. Don’t tell me where, and if the police come, don’t say anything all right?”

“Please, yes, sir.”

Dawson took out his mobile. He hadn’t charged it since leaving the guesthouse, and it had almost completely lost its juice.

Timothy Sowah answered on the third ring.

“Good morning, Timothy. This is Detective Inspector Dawson.”

Silence for a moment.

“Morning, Inspector Dawson.” He sounded wary.

“I need your help. I’m at the Mensahs’ house with Efia, one of Togbe Adzima’s trokosi.”

“The one who discovered Gladys’s body?”

“Yes. She and her daughter escaped from Adzima last night.”

“Goodness.”

“We need them moved away from here to somewhere safe.”

“This is what Gladys and I prayed every day would happen,” Timothy said, his voice trembling with excitement, all the aloofness in it now gone.

“Can you help?”

“Yes, I’ll send a car to bring her here to Ho, and we’ll go from there.”

“Thank you, Timothy. Oh, and by the way, I’d like to officially apologize for my arresting you. No hard feelings?”

“None. You were doing your job.”

“Good.”

Once Efia and Ama were safely away, Dawson went to the guesthouse to look for Chikata again. He was just leaving as Dawson arrived.

“The bird has flown,” he said as Dawson got out of the car.

Dawson stopped in his tracks. “Kutu’s gone?”

“Correct. I went looking for him yesterday at his compound, and everyone there said he had left and they didn’t know where he was. I checked inside his rooms to make sure he wasn’t hiding.”

“Have you searched for him in town?”

“I didn’t have enough time yesterday to do a good job before the rain, so I’m going now.”

“I’ll come with you. I can’t believe you’re actually doing some work, D.S. Chikata.”

“Thank you, D.I. Dawson, sir. You’re very funny, sir, but thank you.”

They canvassed the street, asking people if they had seen Isaac Kutu anywhere. No one had.

“I’m hungry,” Chikata said.

They stopped at a street hawker’s stand and bought some red-red-fried plantain and black-eyed peas in spicy-hot palm sauce-and a Coke and a Malta.

“You really think your auntie was lying about Samuel?” Chikata said, with his mouth full of food.

Dawson swallowed before speaking. “Last night I thought so, this morning I’m not so sure. I’m confused.”

“I believe her story,” Chikata said. “You read her police statement, right?”

“Yes.”

“If she was lying, how could she know those details about the clothes they were wearing-Adinkra symbols and all that stuff? Everything she says checks out.”

“Yes, I know.” Dawson shook his head. “I’m frustrated.”

“Drink some Malta,” Chikata said with a snort. “Maybe it will help you think.”

Dawson didn’t answer. He stopped eating, and his blood turned to ice. Adinkra symbols.

Chikata was staring at him. “What’s wrong?”

“Under my nose,” he whispered. “Under my very nose.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Let’s go,” Dawson said.

“Hey, man, I haven’t finished eating.”

“Can’t you eat and walk at the same time?”

“Where are we going?”

“To buy me a skirt and blouse.”

47

AT OSEWA’S FIREWOOD SPOT, Dawson instructed Chikata to turn his back and not to look until called. Dawson walked the approximately three hundred meters to the area at the side of the forest not far from the beginning of the path to Ketanu. It was here that Isaac had rebuked Samuel for talking to Gladys and had chased the boy away That was well established. The unanswered question was whether Samuel had really rejoined Gladys on her way back to Ketanu after she and Isaac had parted. That was Auntie Osewa’s version of the story, and if it was true, Samuel must have hidden behind a tree or bush and waited until the coast was clear. But how could he have done that if he had stayed with the farmers until nightfall?

Dawson had bought a skirt and blouse at Elizabeth’s-extra large to fit him. He had lied and said it was to be a gift for a full-figured sister-in-law. The outfit was identical to the one Gladys had been wearing: blue and white with small Adinkra symbols. He had not shown it to Chikata.

With considerable ineptness, for which he forgave himself, he put on the outfit over his own clothes. Then he called out to Chikata to turn around. He stood in place for about three minutes and then walked toward the Bedome-Ketanu footpath. He went up as far as the mango tree laden with tempting fruit. He didn’t know for sure, but he surmised Gladys would have got to at least this point before being accosted by Samuel.

A woman was walking along the footpath with yams on her head, and she looked at Dawson as if he was insane. After she had passed him, he heard her laughing convulsively. Just jealous, he thought.

He stepped into the bush, took the skirt and blouse off, and put it back in the bag. He trotted back to Chikata.

“You saw me clearly?”

“Twenty-twenty.”

“Describe the dress fully.”

“White, and some blue splashes all over.”

“And what else?”

“There’s something else?”

“I’m asking you. Think hard.”

Chikata shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“This is your last chance. Think carefully what else there was besides blue and white.”

“Nothing. How many times do you want me to tell you?”

Dawson took the dress out of its bag.

“Oh,” Chikata said, surprised. “Adinkra symbols. I couldn’t see them from this dis-” He stopped as the light dawned. “Aah, this time you hit it right. Your auntie could not have seen it either. But why did she tell you that? Why would she lie?”

When Chikata said that, Dawson felt tears pricking. His stomach had knotted up. The pieces were falling together one terrible step at a time.

“For the same reason anyone lies,” Dawson said softly. “To hide what they really are.”

“What is this place?” Chikata asked, looking about the forest clearing that Efia had introduced Dawson to.

“It’s where Auntie Osewa comes for love and attention,” Dawson said.

Chikata shook his head. “Sometimes I don’t understand you at all.”

“We need to build a fire,” Dawson said.

“How are we going to do that?” Chikata demanded. “Everything is wet from last night’s rain.”

“We’ll get it done,” Dawson replied, undeterred.

But it did indeed prove difficult to engineer a pile of firewood dry enough to be set alight.

“Blow on it,” Chikata suggested.

“What do you know about lighting a fire?”

“About as much as you. Nothing.”

“Then shut up, D.S. Chikata.”

A few minutes later a decent flame began.

Chikata collected more dry wood, and Dawson added it slowly to avoid killing the fire. Soon it was blazing and popping.

“Good,” he said, pleased. “Now get me a lot of plants and branches with green leaves.”

As Dawson put those on top, the flame dropped and white smoke appeared. He unfolded the raffia mat and covered the fire for a few seconds, smoke escaping laterally from underneath the mat.

“One puff.” He covered for a few seconds and released again. “Now two… two again…”

“Smoke signals?” Chikata asked in disbelief. “Ah, but Dawson, who makes smoke signals anymore?”

“Nobody,” Dawson said. “That’s why it hasn’t been noticed.”

Dawson repeated the cycle several times. One puff, two puffs, two puffs, one. After a while, the fire burned itself out.