Murder at Cape Three Points | страница 13
“You must have really wanted it,” Dawson commented. “Isn’t that like the Inspector General of Police taking the position of a sergeant?”
She laughed. “I guess that’s one way of looking at it. That didn’t matter to me, though. I’m still an MD, no matter what.”
“How soon after your uncle’s death did Jason Sarbah take over as Malgam’s Director of Corporate Affairs?”
“About two months. In September, the CEO of Malgam, Roger Calmy-Rey, met Jason at the funeral, and they talked. Jason’s work history-first as a bank manager and then as a solo real estate agent-impressed Roger, and the story of the death of Jason’s daughter touched him. He offered Jason a crack at the position, they interviewed him, and he was successful.”
“Is it possible that Calmy-Rey gave him the job as a consolation?”
“Kind of a gesture of sympathy?” she asked. “I doubt it. Malgam Oil comes first in Roger’s life. He’s not going to jeopardize it by hiring someone unqualified. No, Jason is a very bright man. I don’t doubt his abilities.”
“Have you spoken to him since the time he told you on the phone that he hoped the death of a loved one never happened to you?”
“Months after the murder, we met once at an event in Accra. I told him I was sorry, and he gave me his condolences in turn.”
Dawson saw there was a lot to think about here: Jason Sarbah had been anguished and angered by his daughter’s death and probably still was, but he was also an ambitious man looking for a lucrative career. Was the murder of his cousin Charles a kind of two for one-get revenge and get his job? No, that seemed too neat, like an attractively wrapped box containing nothing.
Dawson became aware that Dr. Smith-Aidoo had been watching him ponder. “When do you return to Takoradi?” he asked her.
“Tomorrow. When do you expect to get there?”
“Tuesday afternoon or evening.”
“I will call you Wednesday morning sometime.”
They stood up.
“It warmed my heart to see your boy doing so well, Inspector,” she said. “I think it’s a good omen for the way the investigation will go.”
Dawson hoped she was right. In his experience, omens were overrated.
Chapter 3
ON SATURDAY AFTERNOON, AFTER Dawson had spent time with Hosiah at the hospital, he rode his aging motorbike to CID Headquarters on Ring Road East. It was a seven-story, ailing building the color of dirty sand. It looked no more significant than an old apartment building. Its appearance didn’t match its impressive name,