by Kwei Quartey
“Do you think you still have that outfit?” Paula asked.
“I think so,” one said. She went to one of the carousels and looked through the hangers. “Maybe this one?”
She held it up and handed it to Paula. It fitted the description and the quality was excellent, although it was a little too bright for Paula’s taste and clearly made for women with much trimmer hips than hers.
“Will you like to try your size?” the girl asked.
“No,” Paula said, suppressing a laugh. “I just wanted to see what my friend said she bought last week. Thank you.”
On her way back to the restaurant, Paula called Gale. “Come into work a little early,” she told her. “I’ve just been talking to Amadu, the watchman on duty that night. He told me some interesting things we need to discuss.”
That night, it was Paula’s turn to put Stephan and Stephanie to bed. They chose one of their favorite Ananse stories and leaned against her on either side as she read. By now, she could almost recite the thing by heart. As she was tucking Stephanie into bed, the little girl suddenly asked, “Mummy, are you and Daddy angry at each other?”
Oh, dear, Paula thought. Nothing escaped the notice of her sensitive daughter. “Why do you ask, sweetie?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I just thought you were.”
“Well, sometimes, even though Mummy and Daddy love each other a lot, they have disagreements. But everything will work out fine, okay? Don’t worry.”
“Okay, Mummy.”
Paula kissed her daughter on the forehead.
“It’s just like when Stephanie makes me angry in the nighttime but then I like her again in the morning,” Stephan declared in a muffled voice from somewhere underneath his bed.
“Stephan!” Paula exclaimed. “What are you doing under there?”
“I lost a Lego, Mummy.”
“You can look for it tomorrow,” she said sternly. “You just had your bath and now you’re crawling around on the floor? You’re going to get dirty.”
“Found it!” he yelled triumphantly, his little hand shooting out from under the bed with the recaptured fugitive piece of Lego.
Thelo was in his study working at his laptop. He didn’t look up as Paula came in and sat down in the chair near his desk.
She eyed him for a moment. “Stephanie just asked me about what’s going on between you and me.”
“Mm-hm. And?”
“I responded that we were having a little disagreement but that we’d soon get over it.”
“Okay.”
“Okay, so can we talk about it now?”
He looked away from the computer, but still not directly at her.
“I know you felt I excluded you when I went to see Edward,” she said, “and for that, I’m sorry.”
“But then you went and talked to Amadu today after my advising against it,” Thelo pointed out. “You asked me to call someone at CID to see if the case could be looked at again. I thought about it and decided you were right, so I contacted Dr. Biney, because although he’s not a CID employee as such, his work is highly respected and he’s very influential. Everyone listens to him. But after our long discussion in which he promised to try and help next week, you go right ahead and do what you had been planning to do in the first place. So what was the point of the whole exercise? Why did I even bother?”
“It’s still of value,” she insisted, “and I really appreciate that you called him. We could do with his assistance. But there are questions that bother me personally, and I can’t rest until I get the answers—questions that men may not be so sensitive about—like why Heather was naked in that pool.”
“I see. So I suppose now that you’ve spoken to Mr. Amadu, you have the answer?”
“Well, no, I don’t. But he had some interesting information I would like to discuss with you.”
“Go ahead,” he said in a supercilious tone she loathed but forced herself to ignore. “I’m listening.”
She swallowed. “For one thing, he thinks the only reason Edward sacked him is because Heather was very friendly toward him.”
“Toward Amadu?”
“Yes. He says Edward was jealous of him.”
“I would expect Amadu to say something like that,” Thelo said, snorting with contempt. “Obviously the boy is bitter about his dismissal and is trying to cast aspersions on Edward.”
“Could be,” Paula said, but doubtfully. “Also, it appears the pool lights were off for some period overnight and only Amadu and Edward knew how to switch them off. Furthermore, I learned from Amadu that Edward was at the hotel very late Sunday till around midnight.”
“I hope you’re not suggesting Edward had something to do with Heather’s death,” Thelo said, frowning. “If anything, I would consider Amadu the prime suspect.”
Paula hesitated.
“You’re telling me you’d take the word of some low-class, illiterate watchman over that of a trusted friend of ours?” Thelo asked in disbelief. “If Edward were jealous of Heather’s friendliness with Amadu, he would have sacked the boy long before her death. It’s clearly because Amadu messed up on his job that he was sacked. Don’t believe people just because they seem honest and earnest. They are some of the worst liars.”
Paula saw an opportunity to turn this conflict around. “That’s why I need you, Thelo. To show me the pitfalls. Can you help? If you’re behind me, I can’t go wrong.”
He let out his breath sharply in frustration. “Paula, the point is that it’s not our job. I’m not a detective anymore. I run a business. You’re not a detective either. I can’t back you up on something for which you’re not trained and that could, at least in theory, involve dangerous criminal elements. The very best we can do is what we’ve already done: ask for help from an expert, Dr. Biney.”
They were silent for a while, the hum of the air conditioner the only sound in the room.
“At this point,” Thelo took up again, “I don’t trust you, and I tell you, it’s not a good feeling. I’m even afraid you’re going to do something disgraceful like go to Edward and accuse him to his face of foul play.”
“I’m not going to do that.”
“Oh, I’m so relieved to hear that, Detective Paula.”
That was the last straw. She stood up to leave the room. “I’m tired of your sarcasm.” At the door, she stopped. “I feel you think I’m somehow undermining your authority. That isn’t my intention at all, but you should know that I’m not done asking questions. I can’t stop now.”
He ran his hand over his bald head and down his face, a gesture of exasperation that Paula knew well. The wall between her and her husband was now frozen solid.
Early the next morning, Paula told an eager Gale about her meeting with Amadu.
Gale drew in her breath. “Is he sure it was eleven thirty? Oliver said he left at eight thirty.”
“Amadu is positive, and I don’t think he’s lying, either.”
“So let me get the timeline right,” Gale said, “Amadu came to work at nine that night.”
“Yes.”
“He went to the back area of the hotel at ten and did a patrol, and that was the only time he did that for the whole night.”
“Correct,” Paula said. “Let’s say he got back to the front of the hotel—the lobby or the sentry box—ten to fifteen minutes later.”
“A little more than hour after that, at eleven thirty,” Gale continued, “Oliver comes out of the hotel and goes home. Did Amadu see Heather around anywhere at that time?”
“I asked him that too. No.”
Gale leaned against the wall and hugged herself with her arms crossed. “Why would Oliver say eight thirty if he really left at eleven thirty? What if this Amadu is mistaken, or even lying? Do you trust him more than Oliver?”
“Amadu has no reason to lie.”
“He does if he killed Heather.”
Paula pressed her lips together. “That’s exactly what Thelo suggested. And he’s furious
with me for turning my suspicion on Edward Laryea.”
“Edward Laryea!” Gale exclaimed in surprise. “You’re suspicious of him now?”
“Listen to this,” Paula said. “Amadu said he saw definite signs of Edward’s attraction to Heather. He used to visit her in her room, supposedly to check if everything was okay, so to speak. Heather was very friendly toward Amadu, however, and he’s convinced that Edward was jealous and sacked him for that reason.”
Gale frowned. “The ramblings of a misguided young man, if you ask me.”
“Perhaps,” Paula conceded, “but there’s more. Edward was at the hotel until past midnight on Sunday. Amadu says he sometimes makes surprise appearances at the hotel to check if his workers are doing their jobs properly. While he was there, a German guest—apparently a friend of Edward’s—checked in late after a long road trip from Tamale. Edward welcomed him to the hotel and stayed there for some time after that, although we don’t know exactly how long.”
Gale was studying her. “Okay. Go on.”
“I think it’s strange that when Edward and I talked about Heather’s death, he didn’t mention that he had been around the hotel late that Sunday night.”
“He might not have thought it was that important.”
“How could it not be important?” Paula demanded. “He was at the hotel on the same night Heather was killed, and he doesn’t once remark on it, not even in passing?”
“So now you believe Edward and Heather had an affair that went wrong,” Gale challenged, “or that he lusted after her, she turned him down, and it came to a head on Sunday night?”
Paula was steadfast. “On Monday morning when Amadu ran to the swimming pool, he noticed that the lights had gone out. They’re set to turn off automatically at six in the morning, but it was a few minutes before, and Amadu is certain about that. So, was it technical failure, or were they deliberately turned off, and for what purpose? Who would do that? The murderer, because he needed the cover of darkness to commit the crime. Apart from Amadu, guess who else knows how to turn the lights off and on?”
“Edward.”
“Correct. So let’s say Heather goes to Edward’s office around eleven forty-five Sunday night. While she’s in his office, some kind of argument develops between them.”
“About what?” Gale asked.
“I don’t know—that he loves her and wants her, and why does she reject him and insist on being with Oliver? Edward wants to make love to her in the office. She refuses his advances. In the middle of the argument, the German man arrives from Tamale sometime past midnight, and the front desk calls Edward to let him know his friend has arrived. Edward goes out to greet him, telling Heather to wait a few minutes until he returns.
“After he welcomes his friend, Edward goes down to the pool, turns the lights off, and then returns to the office. He asks Heather to take a walk with him, so they can talk more, but really, what he plans to do is kill her.”
“Wouldn’t it be difficult to persuade her to go with him after they’ve just had an argument?” Gale asked.
“Edward can be very persuasive.”
Gale closed her eyes and repeatedly traced her eyebrows with her thumb and index finger, something she did when she was deep in thought. “My goodness,” she said, opening her eyes again. “I never thought we’d come to this.”
“What?”
“Suspecting our friends and associates. Oliver, Edward – maybe even Diane?” She shook her head. “It’s horrible.”
“I know,” Paula said, but not with quite as much despondency. “Thelo is afraid I’m going to confront Edward and accuse him of murdering Heather.”
“Are you?”
“No, but I would like to confirm if there’s any truth that he lusted after Heather.”
“How will you find that out?”
“I thought I might ask Jost Miedema.”
“You trust him?”
“Yes. He’s an honest observer.”
“Okay.” Gale sighed. “Meanwhile, what shall we do about Oliver?”
“We need to get the truth from him about what time he left the Voyager that night.”
Gale was uneasy. “We do it together?”
“I would like that, but if you would prefer not, it’s no problem.”
“I’ll do it,” she said resolutely. “So long as you take the lead.”
They looked up as Diane came in with her laptop.
“I have a surprise for you,” she said, beaming.
“What’s that?” Paula asked.
“I’ll show you.”
The three women sat together in front of the screen and Diane turned it on and went to iPhoto. For a moment the screen was dark as soft music began, and then faint letters became visible, spelling out the title, Heather Peterson: Still in Our Hearts
The slideshow went roughly in chronological order starting from the very first snapshot of Heather emerging from the arrivals hall at Kotoka International Airport. Paula and Diane had been there to meet her. The background music of the collage changed according to the theme and captions, and each photo faded smoothly into the next.
The first set, At Work, had a jaunty score and showed Heather supervising the kids, taking a break to wipe off her sweaty face, piling a bunch of laughing students on her lap, taking part in a tug o’ war contest, and then hanging out in the office, posing with Paula, Diane, Gale and Oliver.
In Outings, Diane had captured Heather on the infamous Kakum National Park canopy walkway stretching from one soaring tree to another. Heather was firmly staring ahead, refusing to look down into the plunging depths.
The music switched again for Fun in the Sun: Heather drinking out of a freshly cut coconut at a Cape Coast beach, pulling funny faces at the camera with Diane, executing a handstand, and making a two-person pyramid by standing on Oliver’s shoulders. After the beach collection came photos of Heather at the barbecue Paula and Thelo had held for the Street Academy staff about a month before.
“This next part was hard,” Diane said. “I wasn’t sure if I should include it, but swimming was something that Heather loved, so I put it in.”
Diane had become teary, and Paula saw why. There was Heather in the Voyager pool, where she was eventually to die. She was lovely against the turquoise water that matched her eyes. She was gazing happily at the camera. In another, Oliver was sitting next to her at the edge of the pool, he muscular and handsome, and she tan and lean in a black swimsuit.
When the next photo came up, Paula asked Diane to pause it for a moment. It was a poolside photo of Heather in the same black bathing costume with Diane, Oliver, Jost, and Edward. Everyone was smiling and Heather looked especially happy.
“That’s a really nice one,” Paula said. “Who took it?”
“The bartender. That was only about three weeks ago.”
“I really like it.”
Finally came the two shots from Jost that Paula had forwarded to Diane. As the last photos appeared and the music died away, Paula felt her own tears pricking, and put an arm around Diane.
“That was lovely,” Gale said, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief.
“It was,” Paula said. “Thank for doing that, Diane. I’d like you to show it to the children if you wouldn’t mind.”
“I’d love to.”
“It would also be nice for Mr. Peterson to see it,” Gale suggested.
“I think so too,” Diane said. “I can email it to him.”
She put the laptop away and the three women got ready for work. All through the morning, Paula was thinking about the upcoming confrontation with Oliver and very much dreading it.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The day was over and the kids had gone home. Oliver had agreed to meet with Paula and
Gale after classes and he came into the office at a few minutes after two. They seated themselves in a triangle. Paula had chosen not to sit behind her desk because it acted as both a physical and psychological barrier.
“So,�
�� he said, “what’s up?” His demeanor was both wary and falsely cheerful.
“Whatever comes out of our discussion today,” Paula said, “remember we care about you, Oliver, okay?”
“Why?” he said with a nervous laugh. “Am I in trouble?”
“Something I need to ask you,” Paula said. “You said you left Heather at the hotel on Sunday night around eight thirty, correct?”
“Right,” he said, but now he didn’t sound quite so sure. “Around there.”
“Yesterday, I talked to Amadu, the security guard who was on that night. You remember him?”
“Yes, I often saw him when I went to the Voyager.”
“He told me that you left the hotel at eleven thirty, not eight thirty.”
He stared at Paula for a moment, and then he looked at Gale and back at Paula.
The two women waited for his response for what seemed like several minutes.
“Amadu is both correct and wrong,” he said finally.
“How so?” Paula asked.
“I did leave the hotel at eight thirty to visit my father at Korle Bu hospital, but then I came back again to see Heather about two hours later. I stayed only about forty-five minutes and then left again. That’s when Amadu saw me. Diane did too.”
“She did?” Paula asked, surprised. “Where?”
“She was in the lobby talking to one of the clerks when I came down from Heather’s room.”
“I see,” Paula said. “Is that why the two of you have been giving each other such funny looks over the past week?”
“I suppose so,” Oliver admitted. “I’ve wanted to talk to her about it, but somehow I couldn’t bring myself to. She knows that I didn’t tell the full truth to you or the police. But I swear to you, I didn’t do anything to hurt Heather.” Oliver looked back and forth between Paula and Gale, clearly desperate for them to believe him.
