TWENTY-FIVE
April 14, Accra, Ghana
Emma returned home after a day at the mall selling Apple devices. It was almost ten. She cooked dinner with the TV news on in the background.
Her phone rang, but she didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?”
“Emma Djan?”
“Who is speaking, please?”
“My name is Yemo Sowah.”
For a brief second, Emma forgot who that was, but then she remembered and her heart leapt. “Oh, yes, sir. Good evening, sir.”
“Sorry to call so late, Miss Djan.” His voice was soft and a little husky, like wet leaves.
“It’s no problem, please.” Emma sat down.
“DCOP Laryea called me about three months ago. He said you had left the police service but he recommended you highly.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“At the time, I had no vacancy, but I now have an open position. Are you still interested?”
Emma felt giddy. “Yes, sir.” Her voice came out hoarse, so she cleared her throat and repeated herself.
“Good,” he said. “I’d like to see you tomorrow morning, if possible.”
“Of course, sir.”
“Do you have a job elsewhere?” Sowah asked.
“No please,” she lied. She wasn’t going to let anything jeopardize her shot at this.
“Excellent. Then I’ll see you at eight sharp.”
At seven in the morning, Emma arrived at the Sowah Private Investigators Agency at 101 Limomo Walk in Asylum Down, a district named because it was a short distance downhill from the psychiatric hospital. She was so early it was no surprise the office wasn’t open yet. The front door had a frosted glass pane emblazoned with the agency’s name.
Idly scrolling through the news feed on her phone, Emma hung around. At about seven-thirty, a smartly dressed woman with flawless braids and impossibly high heels approached the door with keys in hand.
“Good morning,” she said, giving the visitor an inquiring look.
“Good morning, madam. My name is Emma Djan.”
“Oh, yes, I remember,” the woman said, unlocking the door. “The boss said to expect you. I’m Beverly, his assistant. You can come in and wait for him.”
They entered a foyer and Beverly turned on the lights. “Please have a seat,” she said to Emma, pointing to the seating area at one end.
A desk with a computer, printer, and filing cabinet in an alcove on the opposite side of the foyer turned out to be where Beverly did her work. It was comfortable but rather small.
Apart from offering Emma some water, Beverly said almost nothing as she set up for the day. But at precisely 8 a.m., she beckoned to Emma. “Please follow me.”
Beverly unlocked a second door which opened into an open area with workstations and computers. The five desks were laden with large envelopes and dog-eared folders. Beverly’s heels clicked precisely with her quick efficient steps as she led Emma down a short corridor. At the end of that was an open door where Beverly put her head in and announced Emma’s arrival.
“Very good. Please let her come in.” It was the live version of Sowah’s phone voice.
Emma was nervous, and she didn’t relax much when she saw Yemo Sowah. He reminded her of an uncle she had. Sowah was compact and dressed in a bright white shirt and dark tie. His crown was completely bald, leaving only trimmed, graying hair on each side of his head.
He got out of his chair. “Good morning, Miss Djan,” he said. “Sorry, is it ‘Miss’?”
“Yes please. Good morning, sir.”
They shook hands. His palm was small but rather rough. He gestured to a striking ruby-red sofa in the corner. “Let’s sit and talk, shall we?”
He took a seat opposite her in an office chair with a straight back. She noticed how impeccably polished his shoes were.
“Thank you for being on time, by the way,” he said with a smile. “It’s a good start.”
“Thank you, sir,” Emma said, her hands tightly folded in her lap.
Sowah read her body language. “Relax, Miss Djan,” he said. “It’s not that bad.”
She laughed nervously.
“Where did you school?” he asked.
“Kumasi Wesley Girls High,” Emma replied.
“Oh, nice,” Sowah said. “And your father was at Manhyia Headquarters in Kumasi, I understand. With the Homicide unit there.”
“Yes please.”
“When did you move to Accra?”
“After he died about six years ago, I moved here to find better work and support my mother. I stayed with one of my aunts for a while. My mother remained behind. I tried to persuade her to come with me to Accra, but she loves Kumasi too much.”
“Did you consider going to university?”
“Yes please. But money problems.” Emma made a face of regret.
“Understood,” Sowah said, nodding. “At any rate, here you are, a relatively recent police academy graduate. Congrats.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“How did you like working at the Commercial Crimes Unit at CID?”
This was where it was going to become uncomfortable. “The work was a little bit tedious,” Emma said, but hurried to add, “the people were fine, just the work.”
“Sure,” he said.
She was dreading his next question. He’s going to ask me why I left.
But Sowah didn’t. “I was with CID for about ten years,” he said. “DCOP Laryea was my very good mate and we have kept in touch all these years. But I left CID because I wanted the freedom to work without bosses constantly looking over my shoulder and curtailing my every initiative. So, I founded this agency. It will be thirty years this year. Older than you.” He gave a one-sided smile.
“We do a lot of paperwork here,” Sowah continued, “but the foundation of our activities continues to be contact with people. In missing persons cases, we sometimes must go as far as the Northern or Upper East Regions not only to find someone, but to locate another person who knew or knows the missing person. You know, here in Ghana we haven’t quite reached the point where addresses are connected with driver’s licenses or voter IDs and so on—although we are headed in that direction. But we Ghanaians move all over the place and sometimes never inform anyone. When we do background checks for banks, we talk to people in person or on the phone. Sometimes you’ll be calling them every single day and they won’t even mind you. You must go to find them. So, patience and curiosity are two qualities you need to work here.”
She nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“As is punctuality and honesty,” he went on. “We have five detectives—you make six—and they all know that second to lying, what I hate most is lateness. I know people always say GMT means ‘Ghana Mean Time’ and you can therefore show up whenever you please, but we don’t go by that system here. I hope that’s clear. If you ever must be late due to unforeseen circumstances, you need to let me know as soon as you can.”
“Yes please.”
“Now, you will want to know about salary.” Sowah leaned to the side and took a sheet of paper from his desk. “Take a look at the breakdown.”
Emma studied the neat tables in the document. The remuneration was so much greater than what she had been getting at GPS—or working in an Apple store for that matter—she had to make sure she wasn’t reading it incorrectly.
“Please,” she said haltingly, “excuse me, this number here—is that per month?”
“No—every two weeks,” he said.
She tried not to let her jaw drop but he must have sensed what was going through her mind. “Don’t get a wrong picture,” he said. “You are being paid for very hard work. Sometimes you may be here till nine or ten at night as well as the weekends.”
“Yes, sir. I understand.”
“Oh, I forgot something,” he said. “In regard to what DCOP Laryea told me about you and your keen interest in homicide, I must be honest with you, murder cases don’t even remotely comprise the bulk of our work. Those tend to go over to CID. The world over, that is generally the case with private investigator agencies. That might be a disappointment for you, and I will understand if you would like to seek other opportunities.”
She shook her head. “No please. I want to work here.”
“Good,” Sowah said, looking gratified. “One of the reasons I want you to join us is that we have no female detectives, which is embarrassing in this day and age.”
Emma smiled with some pride. She was something of a pioneer, then.
“Now, do you have any questions for me?” he asked.
“Please, will I be with one of the other detectives to understand how everything works?”
“Good question. I will have you shadow all of them for a few weeks, but I will always be supervising and keeping a close watch. If you have any problems, come to me.”
“Yes please.”
“Last question. Can you start tomorrow?”
“Yes, sir.”