Kwei Quartey - Murder at Cape Three Points

“What action did you take?”

“Well, I spoke to Mr. Tetteh, and I persuaded him to retract it, which he did, and the matter was resolved.”

“When did you speak to him?”

“Three or four days before his death,” Calmy-Rey said, as if it should have been obvious to Dawson.

“Did you speak to him in person, or on your mobile?”

“On the mobile.”

Dawson’s palm tingled again. The man was a liar.

“Is it the same mobile we retrieved from your house?”

“Yes.”

Dawson opened his folder again and took out a sheet of paper. “Here is a list of calls you made in the six weeks preceding Mr. Tetteh’s murder. Please, would you look at that?”

Calmy-Rey looked coldly at it. “And what of it?”

Dawson slid another piece of paper over to their side of the table. “This is Mr. Tetteh’s number. Can you show me where it is on that record?”

“Why, yes of course,” Calmy-Rey said, pointing. “Right here.”

“Correct,” Dawson said. “But that’s twenty-four days prior, not three or four, as you said. Mr. Calmy-Rey. Why are you lying to me?”

“Please, Inspector,” DeGraft snapped.

“I’m not lying,” Calmy-Rey exclaimed. He turned to DeGraft. “Calvin, I’m not lying. This is absurd. Why can’t you control this man?”

“Why did you say you spoke to Mr. Tetteh on the phone three or four days before his death when you clearly didn’t?” Dawson asked.

“I forgot, that’s all. It’s been several months, Inspector. Evidently I talked to him in person.”

“Three or four days before he was murdered, right?”

“ Yes ,” Calmy-Rey said, gritting his teeth.

“So that would be on Wednesday or Thursday of that week.”

“I don’t have a calendar with me, Inspector.”

Dawson was ready for him with the calendar on his phone. He pointed out the Sunday that Tetteh had been murdered. “When did you speak to Mr. Tetteh?”

“Well, like you say-Wednesday or Thursday.”

“What exactly did you say to him?”

“I asked him if he would hold onto the article a little longer while I order an internal investigation.”

“What was his response?

“He said he would be happy to cooperate with me.”

“And all this happened while you were at Tetteh’s office.”

“Yes.”

“I put it to you that you did not talk to him at his office.”

“Of course I did,” Calmy-Rey said defiantly.

“This is going nowhere, Inspector,” DeGraft said. “You have nothing on my client. I demand you release him right away. This arrest has no merit.”

“If you had gone to find Mr. Tetteh at his office three or four days before his death,” Dawson said, “you would not have found him there.”

Calmy-Rey stiffened as if a bolt of electricity had passed through him. “What do you mean?”

“He was away in Côte d’Ivoire all that week. He got home Friday evening and did not go to the office at all. I know this from his housemaid.”

Calmy-Rey snorted. “Charity? She’s a little liar.”

“So you have been to Mr. Tetteh’s house then. How else would you know Charity?”

Calmy-Rey swallowed. “Okay, yes, I’ve been once or twice to his home. So what?”

“So, who is the liar, then?”

Calmy-Rey rested his forehead in his palms. “I’m so tired,” he whispered.

“He needs a rest, Inspector,” DeGraft said. “Please.”

“Sure, no problem. I’ll have them bring him some water.”

Dawson stood outside the room for a while, gazing idly at the road that ran in front of the station. An episodic Benz, Audi, or Japanese SUV went by. His mind was quite serene. He wasn’t at all worried.

“Please, Inspector,” the sergeant said, “they are ready.”

When Dawson sat down again, Calmy-Rey looked a little more refreshed.

“Keep this short, Inspector,” DeGraft said.

Dawson reached across and put his hand gently on Calmy-Rey’s forearm, deliberately breaching a boundary. Calmy-Rey flinched.

“I understand completely,” Dawson said. “The Ghana oil find was your greatest triumph, but you thought, if I could just squeeze a bit more success out of it, gain a million dollars here, a million there. You panicked whenever production dropped because of some technical problem. Your excellent engineers would not allow any safety risks, but there were other ways to take shortcuts. Buy off Amihere, as well as members of various committees, and the Goilco people. Save millions of dollars that way. I understand.”

Calmy-Rey pulled his arm away. “I don’t think you do.”

“And neither did Lawrence Tetteh, apparently.”

Calmy-Rey folded his arms and became rather smug. “Lawrence was terribly misguided. A sanctimonious attitude in Ghana doesn’t get you anywhere, and I’m surprised he could not see that. It’s ultimately impossible to defeat corruption in a country where the MO seems to be: steal from the treasury and then turn around and ask for yet another handout from us.”

“Who is ‘us’?”

He curled his lip-just a hint of it. “The rich countries, of course,” he said. “You people constantly beg for more and more aid from us, and what happens? Nothing. You’ll never develop this way. And when I hear someone like Lawrence pontificating in language that doesn’t match the reality of life in Ghana, I just have to laugh.”

DeGraft shot his client a look of astonishment at the outburst.

“Lawrence has the nerve to call me corrupt?” Calmy-Rey continued. “It’s ridiculous.”

“And brazen,” Dawson said.

“Yes, it is.”

“I would have killed him myself if I was in your situation,” Dawson said sympathetically.

Calmy-Rey looked at him in disbelief. “What?”

Dawson shrugged. “Sometimes, murder is the only logical action to take under certain circumstances.”

Calmy-Rey’s chin trembled with emotion. He was tired, distraught, and no longer holding himself together.

Dawson leaned forward. “The flashbacks can be difficult,” he whispered. “Let me help you. Sometimes it’s good to talk about it. The impact of the bullet to his skull, him collapsing, all that blood on the floor.”

Calmy-Rey was hyperventilating.

“That’s all, Inspector,” DeGraft snapped. “Stop.”

“I’m guessing you didn’t plan to kill him originally, sir,” Dawson said. “It’s just that when you were talking to him, he remained so stubborn, so determined to publish the article, refusing to retract it.”

“Don’t say anything more,” DeGraft said to Calmy-Rey sharply.

“Did Lawrence say anything before you shot him?” Dawson asked. “Did he have any last words?”

“ Stop! ” DeGraft cried.

Calmy-Rey’s face crumpled and his shoulders collapsed. “He seemed to smile,” he said, “and I couldn’t understand why. Then he said the words, ‘pen drive.’ Seconds after I shot him, I realized I should have found out what he meant.”

IT WAS NO SURPRISE that Dawson could not sleep that night. Like a pendulum, he went back and forth as he thought about the day’s events. Roger Calmy-Rey had fully confessed to murdering Lawrence Tetteh. However, he had not killed Charles and Fiona Smith-Aidoo, nor had he contracted anyone to kill them. It was clear. Dawson believed him. Calmy-Rey had cherished Charles and adored Fiona. Charles had been a faithful and resourceful Malgam employee and an asset to the company and Calmy-Rey. The killing simply did not fit no matter what angle Dawson tried.

Even though the hour was late, he called Christine to give her an update.

“I think it’s marvelous,” she declared.