Gold of Our Fathers - страница 8

of Chinese who had flooded into Ghana from a certain region of China-Dawson couldn’t remember the name at the moment-and succeeded in laying waste large tracts of fertile land as they dug feverishly for alluvial gold.

Dawson couldn’t possibly be away from Christine, Sly, and Hosiah for that long, could he? No, they would have to come with him to Obuasi. But that meant finding the boys new schools and Christine a new job. He winced at that. Christine had just been promoted to assistant headmistress. How could she be so prematurely uprooted now from a post that was providing her experience and prestige, and bringing in a little more income? Maybe the family should stay in Accra and Dawson could visit from Obuasi as often as possible? But he knew what that meant in reality. When a case becomes very busy, there is barely time to get away. He would be missing his family for intolerable weeks on end.

A new worry struck him. Over the last year, Hosiah had gained social confidence and overcome the physical and emotional consequences of his long illness. With new activities in which he could take part, he was enjoying life to the fullest. In particular, he had become best friends with one boy in his class called Seth. Sometimes it seemed that Seth was at the Dawsons’ home more than his own. Wrenching Hosiah away was going to be tough on both boys.

Sly was more adaptable to change than his younger brother because of his past street life. Dawson wasn’t worried about him, and in fact, Sly would be of great moral support for Hosiah.

In the evening after the children had gone to sleep, Dawson would talk it over with Christine. He turned back toward CID, his stomach churning with anxiety.

As soon as Dawson walked back into the office, Chikata saw that something was wrong. The two men had known each other long enough to intuitively sense each other’s moods.

“What happened, boss?” Chikata asked him. “Chief super gave you a tough time?”

Dawson slumped into a chair beside Chikata. “Your uncle has posted me to Obuasi. For one year.”

Chikata’s jaw went slack. “What?”

Dawson despondently rested his forehead against his fist. “Oppong just told me. The transfer is in your uncle’s hand-over notes.”

Chikata shook his head. “I don’t believe it.” He picked up his phone from the table. “I will call him right now.”

Dawson put a gentle restraining hand on Chikata’s. “No, don’t do it. There’s no point.”

“How no point, boss?”

“Forget it, Chikata.”

“I’m sure this isn’t my uncle’s doing,” he insisted. “I should call him to reverse the decision.”

Dawson hesitated, torn. He didn’t like to use his junior officer as a tool, but it was tempting. If he could get the decision reversed…

“Okay,” he said finally.

Chikata made the call, and left a message when his uncle didn’t pick up. There wasn’t any point dwelling on the matter further, so the two men moved on to other things. After discussing both the cold cases and others, Chikata left for training with the Panthers Unit, and Dawson was alone for the rest of the morning.

Just before lunch, Dawson’s phone rang. It was from ACP Lartey, who got straight to the point.

“The decision came down just yesterday,” he told Dawson. “I did not have time to call you this morning. No, it was not me who thought up the plan of sending you to Obuasi. It came from higher up than me. Sorry, Dawson, but that’s how it is. Unfortunately, when you are as good at your work as you are, you come to people’s minds very quickly.”

Half praise, half blame, Dawson thought ironically, like honey sprinkled with quinine.

“The Obuasi office needs you, Dawson,” Lartey added. “Don’t let them down.”

And as he always did, Lartey ended the call quickly and abruptly, leaving Dawson feeling not much better.

At the end of the day, Dawson wanted badly to talk to Christine about the situation confronting him, yet he was dreading it at the same time. How would she react? In the past, his postings to different parts of the country had not sat well with her.

Darko fought evening peak traffic for an hour before finally reaching his neighborhood of Kaneshie. He pulled into the small yard of their once cream-colored bungalow with olive trim. It needed a fresh coat of paint. Inside, Christine was helping the boys with homework, which they interrupted to give Dawson an animated account of all that had happened in school that day. Dawson had to keep track of all the characters-good and bad-in their school. He pushed aside the events of his own day to pay close attention to theirs, giving no indication that anything was amiss. Hosiah in particular was apt to pick up negative signals.