Children of the Street Read Online Free PDF Page A

slow for me. By the time they get me the information I need, I’ll be in the afterlife.”
    “I can give you something, but you can’t use my name.”
    “You know you can trust me, Dawson.”
    “We don’t know who the victim is yet, but it’s a homicide—”
    “How was he killed? Drowned?”
    “Not drowned.”
    “How, then?”
    “Not drowned.”
    “Okay. You’re not saying. How old a person?”
    “Estimated sixteen or seventeen.”
    “Oh, so a teenager, eh? Dr. Asum Biney did the autopsy?”
    “Yes.”
    “No witness accounts of any kind?”
    “No, nothing.”
    “When are you going to release photos?”
    “We can’t. Too much decomposition.”
    “Ah. You need a forensic artist.”
    Dawson was surprised. “How do you know about that?”
    “I watch Forensic Files ,” Wisdom said with a laugh.
    “Well, this is Ghana. We don’t have most of that fancy American stuff you see on TV.”
    “Can I make you an offer, Inspector Dawson?”
    “What kind of offer?”
    “What if I get hold of a forensic artist, you release the victim’s autopsy photos to me, I forward them to him and have him draw a likeness of the victim? You would get that back so you can use it for police purposes, and I would get it to publish it in the Graphic. ”
    “How would you find a forensic artist?” Dawson asked suspiciously.
    “I know one—Yves Kirezi. I met him years ago when I covered the Rwanda genocide. He’s helped identify thousands of genocide victims by re-creating their appearance after they had been beaten beyond recognition, so you know he has to be good at what he does.”
    “Are you sure he would be willing to do this?”
    “We are good friends, Inspector Dawson. That’s what I’m trying to tell you.”
    “All right, then. Let me know if and when you reach him. Thank you, Wisdom.”
    D awson needed to visit the pump station belonging to KLERP, the Korle Lagoon Ecological Restoration Project. It stood on the west bank of the upper lagoon, directly opposite Agbogbloshie on the east. You couldn’t talk about Agbogbloshie and its cursed waterways without bringing in KLERP. It had been around for ten years or more, and was part and parcel of the saga of a troubled slum that just would not go away.
    By twisting the arm of one of the other investigators, Dawson managed to snag Baidoo and the only Tata jeep immediately available out of the two assigned to the Homicide Division. Otherwise, Dawson would have had to wait hours before the other vehicle returned from whatever mission it was on.
    Traffic was heavy along High Street. As Baidoo inched forward with unflappable patience, Dawson’s phone rang. He felt a surge of both dread and anticipation as he saw it was Edith Kingson calling. This might be it.
    “Edith, how are you?” he said sweetly.
    “I’m very well, thank you, Darko.” Her voice was as clear and sparkling as crystal, but now she hesitated slightly and his heart sank.
    “It’s not good news, is it?” he said.
    “No,” she replied sadly. “I’m so sorry. They turned it down. They said your financial situation was not dire enough to justify clemency. I tried to argue on the basis of Hosiah’s bad medical situation and the kind of future he was facing. I argued until Director Hanson even got annoyed with me.”
    Dawson felt as though a ten-story building had just collapsed and crushed him. His breath left him, and for a moment his vision darkened and he couldn’t speak.
    “Darko?”
    “Yes,” he said hoarsely. “I’m here.”
    “Again, I’m terribly sorry. If you like, you can always re-submit the petition and I will try once more for you.”
    “Thank you, Edith,” he said softly. “For all your help. I appreciate it.”
    He pocketed his phone and stared despondently out the window. Traffic had begun to clear as they passed James Fort toward Cleland Road. Agbogbloshie was in the distance to their right; the beach was visible on their left. Ahead, new road construction was raising a