Murder at Cape Three Points - [11]

Dawson poked his head around the door. “Busy?”

Cairo looked up and grinned. “Darko, come in! Not really. I’m only pretending.”

Dawson laughed and leaned down to hug his brother. “How are you?”

“Fine-just going over the books,” he said, waving at the laptop on his desk. “You know how that is.”

He was three years older than Dawson and had the same closely shaved hairstyle. They resembled each other in the face, but the physiques differed. Cairo, athletic as a boy before the accident, was now chunkier than his younger brother, although he had recently lost weight on the orders of his doctor.

He swung his lightweight wheelchair around to face Dawson as he took a seat. “So, what’s up, little brother?”

“I’m off to Takoradi on Tuesday,” Dawson said.

“Oh? What’s going on there?”

“New case. Don’t know if you ever read about the murder of Charles and Fiona Smith-Aidoo off Cape Three Points.”

Cairo searched his memory for a moment and shook his head. “Doesn’t ring a bell. What’s the story?”

Dawson gave him a quick rundown, explaining that the case came to CID via petition.

“Hope it goes well for you,” Cairo said sincerely. “You know we all like to have you right here in Accra. It’s a pity you have to leave Hosiah right now.”

“I know,” Dawson said, shaking his head regretfully. “I hate it myself, but Lartey is in no mood to be messed with, and I’m coming up for promotion soon.”

“Audrey and I will have Christine and the boys over at the house or drop in to see them,” Cairo offered.

“Thank you. I’m sure she’ll appreciate that.”

There was a slight pause.

“I saw Papa yesterday,” Cairo said quietly.

Dawson leaned his cheek against his knuckles and fixed his gaze at the floor. “And?”

“He asked for you.”

Dawson grunted noncommittally, and Cairo cleared his throat awkwardly. “Darko, I know there’ve been hard feelings between the two of you, but he’s getting old now, and he’s not going to live forever. I’m just saying maybe it’s time to not so much forget, but to forgive. He does love you.”

Dawson snorted. “You don’t hit the people you love, and whether Papa used his hand or a cane, he hit me a lot. It was never the same for you, since you were his favorite, so maybe you don’t understand, but I didn’t deserve to be treated that way just because I was attached to Mama and a skinny boy who wasn’t good at sports.”

“I think I do understand, Darko.” Cairo sighed heavily, rubbing the fist of his left hand slowly against the palm of his left as he contemplated this still unresolved family predicament. “Papa had a violent streak and he scapegoated you, that’s for sure, but…”

“But what?”

“Isn’t this something of a case of ‘he who is without sin cast the first stone’?”

Dawson looked at him in surprise. “I have never once hit my wife or my kids, and God strike me down if I ever do.”

“I know that,” Cairo said reassuringly. “I’m not talking about your family. You are a caring husband and father, but you haven’t been without violence in your work. A few years ago, especially up until the time you found out the truth about Mama, you were almost out of control-beating suspects up, losing your temper, remember?”

Dawson nodded reluctantly. It was true, and he wouldn’t deny it.

“So, just give it some thought, little bro,” Cairo said with a smile. “That’s all I’m asking. You’re a better person than years ago, so why not add reconciliation with your father to your achievements?”

Dawson took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “Okay, I’ll think about it.”

“Thank you.”

They chatted for a while about less weighty things, and then Dawson stood up to leave. “I have to get going.”

“Okay. I’ll see you out.” Cairo wheeled himself beside his brother to the entrance of the shop, and they embraced one more time.

“Be careful in Takoradi,” Cairo said. “We want you back safely.”

DAWSON RODE BACK to his Kaneshie neighborhood home at No. 10 Nim Tree. Cream-colored with olive trim, the house was very small, but it was far superior to the dilapidated police barracks where even officers above Dawson’s rank stayed because they couldn’t afford housing elsewhere in the city. He and Christine were simply lucky that their landlord was a member of her extended family.

The house was deserted since Christine was still out with Sly. Dawson sat on the sofa of the sitting room that adjoined the kitchen and looked through the docket. He made a couple of notes to keep the record up to the minute. He left the folder on the table as he got up to answer a knock on the door. His neighbor needed help unloading some building materials, so Dawson went next door with him and left the docket on the sitting room table. That would turn out to be a terrible mistake.

Chapter 5

ON TUESDAY MORNING, WHILE Christine went off to get Hosiah from the hospital, Dawson spent a few hours at CID tying up loose ends before he left. He was to take the State Transport bus to Takoradi, and he didn’t want to start out too late. However, it was past noon by the time he was heading home on his motorbike, negotiating the clogged, asphyxiating traffic on Ring Road West.