Dawson had to admire Cardiman’s passion and dedication. For him there was nothing more important than this slice of paradise on earth, and he was going to fight to preserve it. At the same time, Dawson thought, that could make his motive for murder all the more powerful.
On their return, Cardiman went off to supervise the repairs on one of the chalets, and Dawson rejoined Christine and Akosua, who were still at their shady perch on the beach chatting as they watched Abraham playing in the water with the kids. Chikata and Baah were playing a noisy game of cards at the next table.
When lunch arrived, Akosua beckoned to her husband to come out of the water for something to eat. Sly and Hosiah came running up, wet and exuberant.
“I was swimming, Daddy,” Hosiah said jumping up and down.
“Yes, I saw you!” He draped a towel around his son’s shoulders. “Good for you! Dry yourself off. How’s the water?”
“It’s nice,” Sly said.
Abraham plunked down in a chair, panting. “My goodness. These kids have made me realize how out of shape I am.”
Lunch came. It was a mouth-watering spread of “Red Red”-succulent fried, ripe plantains and black-eyed peas reddened by palm oil; banku with tilapia; yam and light soup full of chunks of fish; Jollof rice prepared with chicken and an aromatic mix of spices and tomato sauce; and for Abraham, a plate of fish and chips with coleslaw, a dish he had recently acquired a taste for. After they had washed their hands, they tucked in, eating with their fingers-except for Abraham, who didn’t think his meal was made for consumption that way.
“Can we go back in the water, Uncle?” Hosiah asked as he finished his meal.
Abraham looked to Dawson for guidance.
“Only for a little while,” Dawson said. “Then we have to go back home.”
“Okay.”
“Before you kill your uncle,” Akosua added, under her breath.
Abraham went gamely back to the water with the boys, although it looked like he could have done with a nap instead.
“You want to go for a walk?” Dawson asked, looking at Christine.
“Where?”
Dawson pointed to the peninsula beyond Akwidaa. “The remains of a seventeenth-century German fort are over there. Let’s go and see it.”
“But do you know the way?” she said, looking a little doubtful.
“I think there’s a path and some signs. I’m sure we can figure it out.”
“Hmm. Okay, but if we get lost in there you’ll never hear the end of it from me.”
“Relax,” Dawson said, grinning. “I have a wizardly sense of direction. Come on, it will be an adventure.”
