FORTY-FOUR

May 21, Washington, DC

Cas was sipping black coffee in his apartment with his feet up. The liquor relaxed him, but he was still worried, riddled with anxiety like a corpse full of buckshot. Several weeks now, and still no word from Gordon. For some time, Cas had thought there could be a logical and simple explanation for his friend’s silence, but the situation was now ominous.

On his laptop, Cas looked back at his May 10th article in the Washington Observer.

 

Out of Africa

An American delves into the lucrative African underworld of Internet scammers

 

By Casper Guttenberg

 

Part Two

Modern online romance scams, which often originate from countries like Ghana and Nigeria, are premeditated crimes that steal millions—potentially billions—of dollars from vulnerable people all over the US, Canada, and Europe. Rarely caught or prosecuted, the scammers sit safely at computers while hunting for prey on social networks.

It is rare that American, Canadian, or European victims (some prefer the term “survivors”) of these scams travel to these countries to confront the conmen in person. G.T., whom we met in Part One, decided to do just that. Traveling to Accra, Ghana’s capital, G.T. embarked on a mission to find out who, using the fabricated name “Helena,” had duped him of some $4,000.

But G.T. found little help from the Ghanaian police authorities, themselves often mired in corruption, and he was compelled to seek other paths. Working with a local Ghanaian investigative reporter, Sana Sana, G.T. discovered that Internet scamming (commonly called sakawa in local parlance) has infiltrated multiple strata in Ghanaian life, up to and including the high echelons. Along the way, G.T. has met a diverse, if not always pleasant, cast of characters including a voodoo priest and the wife of a top police official.

He startled as his phone buzzed on the side table. It was Derek calling from Ghana, and Cas hoped and prayed he had good news.

“Hi, Derek. How are you doing?”

“Not that well.”

Cas’s heart sank. “What’s going on?”

“The detectives are telling me that on the night Dad disappeared, an eyewitness reported what looked like a body being dumped over a bridge into the Volta River.”

Cas’s immediate reaction was to push back. “Yeah, but that could have been anything. We don’t even know the reliability of this person. Eyewitness accounts are notoriously untrustworthy.”

“Seven weeks, Cas—seven weeks since my father was last seen.”

“I don’t deny that it’s troubling,” Cas agreed.

“I read the second part of your Observer piece, by the way,” Derek said. “You know, now that I’m in Ghana, I’m seeing the articles differently than I did back home when I read the first part. I think I owe you an apology about the way I spoke to you about it back then.”

“No, that’s all right, Derek. You were justifiably concerned. I just wish there was something more I could do.”

“Thanks. There’s very little either of us can do but see what the investigators turn up.”

“Keep me posted. I’m keeping my fingers crossed.”

When the call ended, Cas sat still and stared into the fireplace without seeing, somewhere between numb and terrified.