Death at the Voyager Hotel (11 page)

“Yes,” Paula
said, wishing she could say something comforting. “How is your wife taking it? She
suffers from multiple sclerosis, Heather told me.”

“That
demonstrates the level of trust she had in you,” he said, with a look of some
admiration. “She never talked about Glenda, her mother, except with those she
felt close to. A lot of pain there.”

“I can imagine.
It’s terrible to watch a loved one at the mercy of such a disease.”

“Not only that,”
he said. “My wife is ill, no question, but she can be harsh, maybe even
manipulative and cruel. It sounds like an awful thing for me to say, but it is
what it is. Her relationship with Heather was…rocky. They weren’t close. I
think that’s why Heather preferred to avoid the subject altogether.” He stirred
his Sprite with the straw. “I was hoping one day they would reconcile. Now they
will never get that chance.”

A tear rolled
down his face and plopped straight into his drink. Paula felt her heart breaking
for him, and she made a new vow that, whatever it took, she would find out what
had really happened to Mr. Peterson’s beloved daughter.

Paula stopped over at her sister Ama’s place and sat with
her and a couple girlfriends in the shade of the backyard, where the twins were
playing with their cousins. She stayed another hour catching up on gossip
around town, but then it was time to go home.

“Stephan!” she
called out. “Stephanie! We have to leave now.”

Stephanie came
running over to Paula, but Stephan stayed on the swing, soaring higher and
higher as his cousin pushed him.

“The boy has no
fear,” Paula muttered as she went over to abort his approaching liftoff into outer
space. She slowed the swing down and brought it to a stop.

“Aw!” Stephan
exclaimed in disappointment. “I wanted to go higher.”

“I know. Come
on, sweetie,” she said firmly. “Time to leave. Say goodbye to everyone properly
and thank Aunt Ama and your cousins for a nice time.”

Thelo was back when they arrived. He supervised Stephan and
Stephanie in getting cleaned up while Paula cooked. After dinner, they all had
ice cream and watched a TV show that Stephan had picked out. At bedtime, Paula
read them a story that Stephanie chose, since her brother had had his choice
with the television portion of the evening. She tucked them in with a goodnight
kiss and joined Thelo back in the sitting room.

“So, did Mr.
Peterson arrive?” he asked her.

“Yes, last
night. He’s in deep shock. I met him today at Holiday Inn. He began to weep right
there, in the lounge, and I felt so sorry for him.”

Thelo nodded
contemplatively. “It’s unimaginable—losing a son or a daughter.”

They exchanged
looks, thinking of the unbearable anguish each would feel if either of their
children died.

“But for him, I
don’t think it’s just the loss,” Paula said. “It’s the notion that she was
intoxicated before she died. The implied message of the autopsy is, ‘Heather,
if you hadn’t been so drunk, you would not have drowned,’ almost as if she was
to blame for her death. And then, she was nude. People think that’s shameful,
and it’s tainting her reputation. Mr. Peterson loathes it, and so do I.”

“I realize
that. “He scrutinized her. “So, what have you been up to?”

“What do you
mean?” she asked evasively.

“Edward called
me today. Said you went to see him yesterday evening?”

“Oh, yes,” she
said, her face getting warm. “I was going to tell you all about it.”

“When were you
planning to do that?”

“To be
truthful, I wasn’t sure, because I didn’t know how you would react to my going
to see him about Heather’s death.”

“Right, because
you had promised—”

“I know I said
I would wait and see what Dr. Biney could do about the case next week,” she
broke in quickly, “but Edward is a friend. What harm was done in stopping by to
say hello? We haven’t seen him for quite some time, anyway.”

“But you didn’t
tell me you were going to visit him,” Thelo said. His accusation hung in the
air.

“Because I
hadn’t planned on it. It was one of those spur of the moment things.”

“But you should
have told me about the visit last night—regardless of what you thought my
reaction would be.” He frowned at her. “What’s going on with you? We share
everything with each other. Why all this secrecy?”

“I’m sorry,
Thelo. I don’t know what else to say.”

“So?” he asked.
“What did Edward tell you?”

She gave Thelo
a full rundown—how Edward had taken her to see the pool under reconstruction, and
then to meet Jost Miedema, who had set up the solar lighting and had been
helping Heather with her swimming technique. Both men had expressed concerns
about Heather’s interactions with men—Edward referring to her “friendliness” across
social boundaries, and Jost to her involvement with Oliver. According to Jost,
Heather and Oliver had quarreled on Sunday night not far away from the hotel
pool.

“But Oliver
hasn’t mentioned the argument to me,” Paula told Thelo. “He said she didn’t
seem like her usual self on Sunday, but not that they quarreled.”

“Are you going
to ask him about it?”

“Of course. I
need to know what happened.”

“But you’ll be
considerate about his feelings, won’t you?” Thelo said carefully. “Don’t make
him feel you’re assigning blame to him.”

“I won’t.” She
paused. Did she have to tell Thelo everything? Perhaps she did, out of fairness
to him. Cautiously, she admitted, “There’s something else. Edward sacked the
night watchman, Amadu, because he didn’t patrol the back of the hotel late that
night, which Edward said he was supposed to do. Amadu was one of the people
Edward thought Heather was over-friendly with.”

Thelo shrugged.
“You don’t fraternize with the servants. Basic rule.”

“I don’t think
that’s the way Heather thought about things, though,” Paula pointed out. “That
was one of the nicest things about her. I was thinking that Amadu might know
something he’s not telling Edward.”

 Thelo frowned.
“You’re not thinking of going to question this Amadu guy, are you?”

She bit her
bottom lip and looked at Thelo for a long moment without answering.

“That’s what
you had in mind, isn’t it?” he said.

“Honestly,
yes.”

“I’m warning
you—don’t do it.”

“Come on, Thelo,”
she said sharply. “Why not?”

“Because it’s
going to cause problems. Problems with the police, problems with people who
don’t like being questioned, and problems with me. We are not in a movie. It
isn’t safe, and you are not trained in investigation, so leave it to the
professionals.”

“Professionals?”
she echoed. “The professionals have closed the case, have you noticed? And
don’t try to convince me that they’ll magically reopen it. Whether you, Dr.
Biney, or anyone else asks them, it’s not going to happen. I know how CID works
because I watched you for years trying to function within the system. It’s like
an antique windup car that won’t budge, let alone start.”

“That’s a gross
exaggeration,” he objected.

“Maybe, but I
think my point is made. Either
I
find out what happened to Heather, or
no
one ever finds out.”

“I like how you
flatter yourself.”

“Sorry, but
that’s just how it is,” she said fiercely. “I may be an amateur, but at least I
care,
and I won’t sit around doing nothing while this investigation gets
buried like a coffin.”

Thelo sighed,
shaking his head. “You’re impossible. I mean, I can’t even reason with you.” He
stood up abruptly. “I’ve got work to do.”

He went off to
his study—his sanctuary from me, Paula thought ruefully. That’s the way he behaved
when he was peeved with her: he gave her the silent treatment. She didn’t like
it one bit but what she liked even less was a ominous feeling that trouble was brewing
between her and Thelo. He wanted her to forget all about Heather Peterson, but that
was not something she was prepared to do. With or without his blessing, she had
to keep asking questions.

After church on Sunday morning, Thelo and Paula took Stephan
and Stephanie to the Accra Mall playground, where the twins joined scores of other
happy children on the slides and trampolines.

Paula’s phone
buzzed and she saw a new text from Jost. He had attached two pictures of Heather.
In the first, she was neck high in the pool, wet hair slicked back away from
her face, which was lit up with a radiant smile. Her aqua eyes twinkled in the
sunlight, their color made all the more intense by the reflection of the turquoise
water. She looked free and lovely.

The second
photo was an action shot of her on the upstroke of the butterfly, her dark
reflecting goggles just above the surface and the lean muscles of her shoulders
in sharp relief. It was a masterpiece. She immediately forwarded the images to Diane,
knowing she would love them.

Paula scrolled
to Amadu’s number. Hesitating over it, she glanced up at Thelo who was helping
Stephan and Stephanie into the train ride. Here goes, Paula thought. Amadu
didn’t pick up her call, even after three attempts, but a few minutes later he
called back, curious about the unknown number that had appeared on his screen.
The line was bad. Putting her finger in one ear so she could hear above the
clamor of her surroundings, Paula explained who she was and why she had called.
He sounded tentative, prompting her to explain that she had nothing to do with
the police.

She asked if
she could rendezvous with him somewhere, since they were having trouble hearing
each other. After some persuasion, he suggested they meet at Nima Junction and
described what he would be wearing.

Her heart pounding,
she walked up to Thelo. “I need to go to Nima to meet Amadu.”

Incredulous, he
stared at her, but she didn’t flinch. He turned back to the children shaking
his head.

Paula found it ironic that Amadu had chosen this corner on
Nima Road as the meeting place, because it was exactly where the Nima Police
Station was located. She got out of the taxi, looked around, but didn’t see him
anywhere at first. Nima was bustling with its customary bedlam—pedestrians
zigzagging between horn-blowing vehicles, market women spilling out onto the
pavement, scrap metal dealers pushing their laden trollies, and porters balancing
towering loads on their heads.

She was just
beginning to worry that Amadu had changed his mind when she recognized him on
the other side of the street by his accurate self-description. She waved at him
and he crossed over to her.

“Good
afternoon, madam,” he said courteously. He was probably about twenty-five. He
had a tribal mark on one cheek and bore the leanness of one who can’t quite fulfill
his enormous calorie needs. He wore a black T-shirt with an image of Rihanna
and jeans set well below his slim hips.

A Barclays was
not far away and since banks were closed Sundays, it was quieter on the side
not facing traffic. It wasn’t as exposed a spot as Thelo might have advised her
to choose, but Paula had quickly sized Amadu up and decided that this was no
thug with bad intentions.

“Thank you for
meeting me,” she said as they stood under the bank’s awning for shade. “I don’t
know if you were able to hear me well when we were talking on the phone, but as
I was saying, Miss Heather worked with me at the school on High Street.”

“It’s terrible
what happened to her,” Amadu said, his head dropping. “I hear something about
they say she drink too much and when she tried to swim, she drown.”

“Did you ever
see her drink a lot?”

“No, madam.”

“Did Chief
Inspector Agyekum talk to you—the detective investigating the case?”

“Agyekum?” Amadu
shook his head. “Not at all.”

Her phone
interrupted them with the ring tone assigned to Thelo.

“Excuse me,”
she said to Amadu, moving away a few paces. “Hi.”

“Are you
meeting with him now?” Thelo asked neutrally.

“Yes.”

He grunted. “Everything
okay?”

“Everything’s
fine. He’s harmless. Thank you, Thelo.” She was pleasantly surprised that he
had called and hoped it meant he was relenting on his initial disapproval of
her quest for the truth. She returned to Amadu. “Sorry about that. So, at what
time did you come on duty on Sunday evening?”

“At nine
o’clock, then the other security guard go home and I alone am left to work
until six in the morning.”

“That’s your
normal shift?”

“Yes please.”

“Mr. Edward told
me that you went around the back of the hotel around ten o’clock to check the
pool area and the chalets.”

“Yes please.”

“Was anyone in
the pool at that time, or near the chalets?”

“No, not at all.”

Watching him,
Paula got the impression that he was a self-assured young man. “What about Heather?”
she asked. “Did you see her anywhere?”

“Sometimes she
used to go to the pool around nine or ten o’clock time, but I didn’t see her
that night.”

“And so after
you patrolled the back, you returned to the front of the hotel.”

Amadu nodded.
“Yes please. I sit in that sentry box there.”

“Mr. Edward
told me he sacked you because you didn’t return to the pool area during the
night.”

“Please, Madam,”
Amadu said, plaintively, “only now he say he told me when I start to work at
the Voyager since about four months that make I go around the chalets and the
pool every two hours, but please, he never tell me that. He tell me say I can check
the place one or two times or something like that or if I think something wrong.
Nobody can pass to the pool except the hotel guests, and those people don’t
give any kind of problem. In all the time I work there, I never see somebody go
to the pool at midnight or one o’clock in the morning, so what am I going to
check it for?”

He sucked his
teeth in annoyance and distress.

“I understand
what you’re saying,” Paula said. “I agree with you.”

Amadu looked
somewhat vindicated.

 “Do you know a
man called Oliver?” she asked. “He was Heather’s boyfriend.”

“Oh, yeah. Nice
man. He always greet me when he see me. That Sunday night he came to see her, and
he leave at about eleven thirty.”

Paula frowned.
“Eleven thirty? Are you sure?”

“Yes, Madam.”

That was a
definite discrepancy. Oliver had told Gale that he had left the Voyager at
eight
thirty.

“Did he say
anything to you when he was leaving?” Paula asked.

“By that time,
I was at the sentry box. When he pass there, he say, have a good night—something
like that.”

“Was Heather
with him?”

He shook his
head. “No, madam. I didn’t see her at all.”

“During the
night, did anything unusual happen at the hotel?”

“No, it was
quiet. One German man coming from Tamale, he arrive after midnight to check in.
By that time, Mr. Edward was still there.”

“Mr. Edward? You
mean, the manager?”

Amadu was
puzzled by her confusion. “Yes, madam.”

Paula felt
guilty asking these questions about her friend from childhood, but she kept
going. “He was at the hotel past midnight? What was he doing there so late?”

“Oh, so you
don’t know?” Amadu laughed. “Sometimes Mr. Edward come there secretly at
midnight or even one o’clock in the morning to check we no dey sleep on the
job. One time he catch the receptionist sleeping in the back office and sack
him on the spot just like that. He say he don’t pay us to sleep.”

Well, that is
true, Paula thought. “What time did Mr. Edward leave?”

“Some time after
he greeted the German man. It seem they are friends. Mr. Edward stay maybe
about one hour but I didn’t see him go, so I don’t know the exact time.”

“Do you know when
he arrived at the hotel that night?”

“Not at all.
You know, he can come and go without us knowing by a side gate—only he have the
key for it. He park outside and come in and you won’t know he is there because
he can get into his office from the back.”

Paula was
feeling triumphant about her decision to speak with Amadu. Already she had
learned that there was a secret side gate at the hotel, used exclusively by
Edward
,
and that Oliver had left the Voyager at eleven thirty, not
eight
thirty. Maybe these were harmless discrepancies, but maybe not.

“Did you ever
see Miss Heather go into Mr. Edward’s office for anything?” she asked Amadu.

“Yes,
sometimes. Maybe to tell him if something is not working in her room—say for
example the toilet have broke or hot water finish. Sometimes he use to go to
her room.”

Paula felt a
shot of adrenaline in her chest. “He went to her room? For what?”

 Amadu
shrugged. “Maybe to ask her if everything was okay. He like her.”

“Did he ever
spend a long time in Miss Heather’s room?”

“Maybe some five
or ten minutes,” Amadu said. “Or maybe twenty.”

That seemed a
long time for a manager to spend in the room of a hotel guest. “Twenty minutes?
Amadu, are you sure?”

“Let’s say
ten,” he backpedaled.

Paula moved on.
“That Sunday night, did you see Miss Heather go to Mr. Edward’s office?”

“No, madam. I
didn’t see her.”

“You say Mr.
Edward liked Heather. What do you mean?”

He smiled
one-sidedly and looked away. “He like her. That’s why he sacked me.”

“I don’t
understand.”

“Because she
always talk to me and make friendly with me. That make Mr. Edward jealous. Because
he want her for himself.”

Paula
considered Amadu carefully. This palm soup was getting thicker by the minute.

“Did he tell
you that, Amadu? That he wanted her for himself?”

He shook his
head and pushed his bottom lip out. “No, but I can see how he look at her that
he want her too much.”

“What about
you?” she asked. “Did you also want Heather?”

“Me?” he said, touching
his chest in surprise.

“Yes. You.”

He began to
laugh.

Paula couldn’t
help smiling. “What’s funny?”

“Oh, no,” he
said, shaking his head. “Allah did not plan for Miss Heather and me to be
together. I just like her and respect her. She was a very kind woman.”

“She was,”
Paula agreed softly. “Amadu, tell me what happened the morning Mr. Miedema
found Miss Heather in the pool.”

 “It was almost
five minutes to six,” he began. “I was waiting for the day guard to come and
relieve me. Then the desk clerk shouted at me that someone drown in the
swimming pool, so I start to run there. Before I reach, the gardener too came
running and tell me make I call the doctor. So I ran to the doctor room and
wake him.

“When we return
to the pool, Mr. Miedema was pressing on Miss Heather’s chest. How she looked
like, I never saw anything like that before. The arms and the legs”—Amadu bent
his wrists and drew his forearms stiffly to his torso—“they were like this.
Then the doctor tell Mr. Miedema to stop and he put his hand on Miss Heather
neck, and say she dead already.”

Amadu put his
hands on his hips and looked at the ground, shaking his head.

“It was a
terrible experience, eh?” Paula said.

“Yes, madam. I
feel very bad, because maybe if I went to patrol the back of the hotel during
the night, maybe I can save her.”

“You can’t be
in two places at one time,” she said. “And even if you went back there every
hour, you might still not have been able to save her because it takes only a
short time to drown.”

“Yes, I know.
But…”

She put a
friendly hand on his shoulder. “I understand how you’re feeling. Me too, I
worry if maybe I missed something about Heather that I could have done
something about.”

He looked
warmly at her and smiled.