Dawson nodded reluctantly. It was true, and he wouldn’t deny it.
“So, just give it some thought, little bro,” Cairo said with a smile. “That’s all I’m asking. You’re a better person than years ago, so why not add reconciliation with your father to your achievements?”
Dawson took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “Okay, I’ll think about it.”
“Thank you.”
They chatted for a while about less weighty things, and then Dawson stood up to leave. “I have to get going.”
“Okay. I’ll see you out.” Cairo wheeled himself beside his brother to the entrance of the shop, and they embraced one more time.
“Be careful in Takoradi,” Cairo said. “We want you back safely.”
DAWSON RODE BACK to his Kaneshie neighborhood home at No. 10 Nim Tree. Cream-colored with olive trim, the house was very small, but it was far superior to the dilapidated police barracks where even officers above Dawson’s rank stayed because they couldn’t afford housing elsewhere in the city. He and Christine were simply lucky that their landlord was a member of her extended family.
The house was deserted since Christine was still out with Sly. Dawson sat on the sofa of the sitting room that adjoined the kitchen and looked through the docket. He made a couple of notes to keep the record up to the minute. He left the folder on the table as he got up to answer a knock on the door. His neighbor needed help unloading some building materials, so Dawson went next door with him and left the docket on the sitting room table. That would turn out to be a terrible mistake.
ON TUESDAY MORNING, WHILE Christine went off to get Hosiah from the hospital, Dawson spent a few hours at CID tying up loose ends before he left. He was to take the State Transport bus to Takoradi, and he didn’t want to start out too late. However, it was past noon by the time he was heading home on his motorbike, negotiating the clogged, asphyxiating traffic on Ring Road West.
When he finally got home, Christine’s little red car was parked in front, meaning she had returned with the boys. He was eager to see Hosiah back at home from the hospital, and he could spend a little time with him before leaving, but the day was already getting old. At this rate, he might not reach Takoradi before nightfall on one of State Transportation’s chronically late, lumbering buses.
Once inside the house, he sensed something was wrong. Sly was sitting by himself on the sofa looking forlorn.
