Children of the Street - [22]

“But you planned to make it known as soon as you discovered it to be true.”

“Not doing that would jeopardize the investigation.”

“Correct.” Lartey leaned back. “In that regard, I won’t have you interrogate this man, nor do I advise you have any further contact with him while we are investigating him. Is that understood?”

“Of course, sir. Who will do the interrogation, then?”

“Chikata will.”

13

There is only one official interrogation room at CID Headquarters. It is reserved for “cases of national significance.” The murder of a presumably unimportant teenager in the slum of Agbogbloshie did not make the grade. Normally, Daramani would have been interviewed in the detectives’ room like everyone else, but Lartey had decided to use an assistant superintendent’s room that was empty for the moment while the ASP was on assignment in Tamale. Even though Lartey was going to “sit in” on the interrogation, it was Chikata who would be doing the talking.

Dawson didn’t think that was a good idea. Chikata was too inexperienced, and he didn’t have the skills. But Dawson knew what was happening. The detective sergeant wanted to “prove himself,” and his uncle was going to let him have a good try.

They proceeded to the ASP’s room down the hallway. Dawson followed them, but as they reached the door, the chief supol turned to him and said, “So as not to bias the suspect’s answers, it would be better if you’re not present in the room.”

So Daramani is officially now a suspect?

“All right, sir.”

Uncle and nephew entered the room. There were two tables, one piled with papers. Daramani, tall and lean in his chair, sat at the other with his back to the louvered windows where Dawson stood observing.

Chikata sat down opposite Daramani, Lartey stayed out of sight, sitting behind Daramani.

“Your full name is Daramani Gushegu?” Chikata began in Twi.

“Yes, please.”

“And you live in Nima?”

“Yes, please.”

“Do you know one Musa Zakari?”

“Please, yes, I know him.”

“How do you know him?”

“He is a truck pusher, and I met him one time at Nima side.”

“How long ago?”

“Maybe… some six months, something like that.”

“Do you know where he is right now?”

“No, please.”

“Do you know that a man resembling Musa was found dead in Korle Lagoon?”

Daramani drew back. “No. Serious? When?”

“It will be two weeks ago this Sunday. You never saw it in the newspapers?”

“No, please. But is he the one in the lagoon for sure?”

“Do you know his girlfriend, Akosua Prempeh?”

“Yes, please. I know her.”

“When was the last time you saw Musa?”

“Please, I saw him… two weeks ago.”

“What day?”

“Hmm.” Daramani thought back. “Friday. No, Saturday.”

“Where did you see him?”

“Nima Market.”

“Was he by himself?”

“No, please. He was with Akosua.”

“What time was that?”

“Evening time. Like six o’clock.”

“And then what happened?”

“He asked me to help him to take metal pieces to one man in Maamobi, so I said okay I can help you.”

“How did you take the metal scraps there?”

“With a cart from my friend in Nima.”

“What’s your friend’s name?”

“Yaw.”

“After you used his cart to take the stuff to the man, what did you do?”

“We went to my house.”

“You and Musa?”

“Yes, please.”

“What did you do at your house?”

“We were just talking.”

“And smoking marijuana?”

“Please, no. I don’t smoke that.”

Chikata grunted, looking skeptical. “Okay, we’ll see when we search your house. How long did Musa stay with you?”

“Maybe… two hours.”

“And then?”

“Then he left.”

“To go where?”

“Please, I don’t know. Sometimes he goes to Agbogbloshie side.”

“Do you like Akosua?”

“Eh?” Daramani was caught off guard.

“Akosua. Do you like her?”

“Yes, please, I like her.”

Careful, Daramani.

“In what way do you like her?”

“She’s a nice girl.”

“Would you like her as a girlfriend now that Musa is gone?”

“But please, are you sure he’s dead?”

“If he was dead, would you like to take Akosua for your girlfriend?”

“Please.” Daramani shook his head. “She’s his girlfriend, not mine.”

“Akosua already told me how you used to look at her, that you wanted her.”

“Me?” Daramani said, pointing at himself. “Not at all.”

“Look, don’t be afraid. If you were jealous of Musa because of Akosua, you can tell me. It’s okay.”

Daramani stared blankly at him.

“I know you northern men always want to get Ashanti girls, but it’s hard to get them,” Chikata said.

“Eh?”

“Accra women and Ashanti girls,” Chikata persisted. “That’s what you northerners like.”

What a ridiculous statement.

“Please, as for me,” Daramani said, “I like girls from the north.”

Chikata kept a steady gaze on Daramani. “We’re going to search your house. If we find anything bad, even if we find a little bit of marijuana, you’re going to jail, and the more lies you tell, the longer you’ll be in jail. Do you understand?”

“But, please, I’m not telling lies.”

“You were the last person to be seen with Musa, do you know that?”

“I don’t get you.”

“You were with him on Saturday night,” Chikata continued, “and the next morning he was found dead. Did you go with him to Korle Lagoon that night?”

“Please, no.”

“You were jealous of him and Akosua, and you wanted Akosua for yourself, not so?”

“No. Jealous of him and Akosua, why? Musa is my countryman.”