Kwei Quartey - Wife of the Gods

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For fans of Alexander McCall Smith, a debut mystery set in West Africa that introduces a marvelous detective and a culturally rich community
Detective Inspector Darko Dawson, a good family man and a remarkably intuitive sleuth, is sent to the village of Ketanu – the site of his mother's disappearance many years ago – to solve the murder of an accomplished young AIDS worker.
While battling his own anger issues and concerns for his ailing son, Darko explores the motivations and secrets of the residents of Ketanu. It soon becomes clear that in addition to solving a recent murder, he is about to unravel the shocking truth about his mother's disappearance.
Kwei Quartey's sparkling debut novel introduces readers to a rich cast of characters, including the Trokosi – young women called Wives of the Gods – who, in order to bring good fortune to their families, are sent to live with fetish priests. Set in Ghana, with the action moving back and forth between the capital city of Accra and a small village in the Volta Region, Wife of the Gods brings the culture and beauty of its setting brilliantly to life.

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35

O UT OF SIGHT ATthe side of the station, Dawson waited for Gyamfi. He paced, his pulse still racing from the confrontation and the pain of seeing Samuel being whipped.

Gyamfi appeared a few minutes later. He glanced over his shoulder to be sure he wasn’t being followed. “I want to make sure you believe me, Dawson. I tried to stop them from beating Samuel, but I couldn’t do anything against them.”

“I believe you.”

“But I don’t understand what you said to Bubo. You say he lost his mother? How do you know that? He’s never mentioned such a thing.”

“It was just a lucky guess. Something about him made me think he might have had some sort of tragedy as a child. And even if I was wrong, it would have been such a strange thing to say to him he would have stopped to ask me what I was talking about.”

“You’re right,” Gyamfi said. “And by the way, he still thinks you’re a wizard.”

They laughed, grateful for a chance to relieve tension.

“What are you going to do now, Dawson?”

“I want to work on getting Samuel’s name cleared, but for now I’m going to get him transferred to Ho Central. It’s too dangerous for him to stay here with Inspector Fiti.”

He pulled out his mobile and called Ho Central Prison. The constable who answered said the commanding officer wasn’t in. After some persuasion, the constable released the commander’s mobile number, which Dawson tried immediately. No answer. He left a message and made a note to himself to call again later.

When Dawson arrived, Auntie Osewa was outside hanging clothes on a line. “Darko!” she exclaimed, smiling broadly. “How are you? I thought maybe you had forgotten about your poor old aunt again!”

“No, Auntie,” he said, stooping to kiss her on the cheek. “Not at all. I had to go back to Accra on an emergency.”

“Oh.” Her expression changed to concern. “Is everything all right?”

“Yes, thank you. Took care of it.”

“Good. Come. Uncle Kweku is inside.”

He was listening to a news bulletin on a tiny portable radio, but he switched it off as Dawson and Auntie Osewa walked in.

“How are you, Darko?” he said, smiling broadly. “How is everything? Have a seat.”

They chatted for a few minutes.

“So,” Auntie Osewa said, “any news on the investigation?”

“That’s partly what I came to talk to you about,” Dawson said.

“Is that so?” she said.

“Inspector Fiti told me you’ve reported that Samuel went into the forest with Gladys that evening. Is that true?”

Kweku shot his wife a quizzical look. “You did? He did?”

She nodded. “I was collecting firewood when I saw them.”

“You never told me,” Kweku said evenly.

Osewa shrugged, unperturbed. “I didn’t even think it was important until some of the women collecting water at the pump said they had heard Samuel had been arrested and the police were looking for information about him.”

“Auntie, do you mind if I ask you a few questions and write down your answers?” Dawson asked.

“Of course I don’t, Darko. You have to do your job.”

He fished his notebook from his shirt pocket. “Can you say about what time you first saw Samuel?”

“Well, I don’t wear a watch,” she said apologetically, “but the sun was soon about to go down.”

“So maybe around five thirty or five forty-five,” Dawson said. “And where were you exactly when you saw them?”

“There is a place between Bedome and Ketanu where I get my firewood. I was collecting it when I heard some people talking. I went to see what was happening, and that’s when I saw them.”

“How far away from you were they?”

“When you were coming, did you see the two houses before ours?”

“Yes.”

“From here to the one farther away from us.”

“I see.” That was about three hundred meters. “Do you remember the clothes they were wearing?”

She laughed. “Ei, Darko, you are giving me a tough test. The boy-well, you know his clothes are nothing special. Just some torn khaki trousers and something like a red shirt, or orange, with no sleeves. And Gladys was wearing a blue and white skirt and blouse with Adinkra symbols. Very pretty. She always wore beautiful clothes.”

“You couldn’t hear what they were talking about?”

“No, too far away. Do you know the firewood place?”

“No, I don’t.”

“If you’re walking from Bedome, before you come to Mr. Kutu’s compound you will see it on this side.” Osewa indicated her left.

“I see. Thank you.”

“But anyway, after Samuel and Gladys had been conversing for a little while, Isaac Kutu came from his compound and told Samuel to go away and leave her alone.”

“I thought you said you couldn’t hear anything from that distance.”

“I could hear some of it now that Mr. Kutu and the boy were shouting at each other, and I could see what Mr. Kutu was saying because he was shaking his finger at Samuel like he was warning him. And so the boy went away.”

“Which way did he go when he left?”

“In the direction of Bedome.”

“And then what happened?”

“Mr. Kutu and Gladys conversed for a little while, and then he went back to his compound and she started walking back to Ketanu.”

“And then?”

“And then I saw Samuel come out of the bush and accompany her on the path.”

Dawson’s hand froze. He had picked up a tremor in Auntie’s voice, a ruffling of its smoothness. An eerie sensation came over him like a thousand creeping spiders. This has happened before .

The scene came flooding back. The evening Mama, Cairo, and Darko had visited Auntie and Uncle.

The game of oware was nearly over. Auntie Osewa had just come in from outside. Uncle Kweku asked her where she had been. “I went to set the rabbit traps,” she said. Her voice felt so strange to Darko that it jolted him .

Back then, he had not wanted to think she was lying, and now Dawson had the same disturbing feeling.

He recovered. He didn’t want Auntie Osewa to sense anything was amiss.

“And what happened next?” he asked.

“The boy held Gladys’s hand and tried to put his arms around her, but she didn’t want that. They stood there talking some more, and he was trying to persuade her. She would make as if to walk away, but he would always come around in front of her, begging her not to leave. And after a while, they went into the bush.”

“He didn’t take her by force?” he asked.

“No, nothing like that.”

“After they went in, did you see anyone else around?”

“Not anyone close by that I can remember.”

“Okay, thank you, Auntie.”

“Not at all, Dawson. Anything you want to ask, just tell me.”

“Oh, yes, now that you mention it, there is something else. Do you know if there was anything going on between Isaac Kutu and Gladys?”

“No, I don’t know anything about that.”

“I heard that she wanted to steal his medicines from him,” Kweku said.

“Really?” Dawson said. “Who told you that?”

“It was just some talk.”

“I don’t think it’s true,” Osewa said, shaking her head firmly. “She wasn’t like that, Kweku. She was a very good, honest woman. You shouldn’t say anything bad about her now that she’s dead.”

“I’m just telling you what I heard.”

Auntie Osewa turned dismissively away from him. “Stay with us and eat, Darko, will you?”

His salivary glands sprang into action at the thought of Auntie Osewa’s cooking.

“I’d love to,” he said.

And for now, he put the worrying questions out of his mind.

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