On my Honour III
The Last Hour Beach
01:00 pm
Ato meandered down an eroded street towards his rendezvous, with time to spare. The last time he’d been to the beach was two years ago, with his stepsisters. It hit him that it had been a while since he checked in with his family. Maybe after this was over, they could have another outing.
He pulled over, 99% sure he was at the right place. The last article on Rahim’s blog had referenced a story from his childhood about an illiterate uncle, who while teaching his nephews from a Bible Story Book, offered a truly bizarre explanation of one of the illustrations — Abraham standing by the sea–which involved Abraham missing out on God’s promise, because he got thirsty while counting the sand. Rahim had believed that interpretation for many years and still cited this uncle as the greatest storyteller who ever lived.
The ‘Count Abraham’ thing had to be about that. Then there was the 2324, the final hours of the day. His mystery caller wanted to meet at The Last Hour Beach.
He dialled the number.
“I’m here.”
The call ended, and his phone pinged. Ato followed the instructions in the text message, trudging through the sand toward the adjacent beach.
A weekend hotspot, Allan beach was quiet today, save the sound of waves rushing up the shore. Ato cast glances around, not sure what to expect. There were only a few people at the bar having drinks. Perhaps he hadn’t thought this through. It wasn’t like the place was deserted, but this man had asked him to go all the way to the black boulders at the end of the beach, overcast by the large branches of a creepy tree.
Ato stopped. In that position, he’d be out of the sight of any eyewitnesses, in any worst-case scenario. No, this was the farthest he would go. He dialled the number again.
***
Dare had eyes on his mark. He was too far off the beach to hear what the journalist was saying on the phone, but close enough to see a man emerge from behind the rocks. He dismounted his motorcycle, taking a few pictures with his camera. They were good shots, but he was still too far away. He had to get closer, enough to know what transpired between the two, but not get himself caught. He chewed on his gum slowly.
It was a good thing that was his specialty.
***
“Were you followed?”
The mystery caller blinked wildly. He was tall, late forties, well-dressed in a dark brown jalabya and loafers. He didn’t look familiar, and nothing about his appearance matched the voice Ato had heard over the phone. But one thing was clear: he was scared.
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Did you tell anyone you were coming here?”
“I did what you asked. No one knows.”
He pulled his sleeves back, glaring at his watch. Ato took a step forward.
“How do you know me?”
The man looked up. “I know of you. But I knew Rahim.”
“You worked for him?” Perhaps he was an informant.
“No. My name is Hussein. I’m his brother.”
Ato nodded. Rahim had always worked hard at insulating his family from what he did, and he’d taught Ato to do same. But in the few times they hung out outside of work, he had mentioned his elder brother.
“I’m sorry about what happened, sir.”
Hussein looked away, sniffled. “Rahim was killed by people who wanted to bury the truth. I’m here to make sure he didn’t die in vain.”
“What people?”
“I know about the KPharma investigations, Mr. Aikins. I’m the one who brought the story to Rahim.”
Okay. So he knew.
“I had to be sure. You said you had a message for me.”
Hussein stepped forward, starting to look a little at ease.
“Like I said, I brought the story to Rahim. I won’t tell you how I came about the information because I need to protect this person who trusted me with it. Last week, I invited Rahim to Sunyani, ostensibly to attend the wedding of a friend. But in truth, I had come across evidence that would help his case, which I handed over to him during the wedding reception.”
“What kind of evidence?”
“A video recording.”
Hussein glanced at his watch again. “It incriminates all members of the board. Every one of them.”
“I see.” That’s why they killed Rahim, burning it all up. It made sense now.
Ato bit his lip. Once again, they had won. Like they always did.
“I thought so too, until last night.” Hussein shook his head. “I was searching for an old newspaper clipping. Rahim’s first article. I opened the old shoebox I kept in my wardrobe, and there it was.”
Ato smiled. “He left it there.”
Hussein nodded. “Maybe he was being cautious. Or maybe he knew what was coming.”
Most likely the former. Rahim’s home had been burgled twice since Ato started work at The Heritage.
“So you have it?”
Hussein nodded. “I thought about sharing it on WhatsApp or Facebook, so everyone would know what they did in secret. But I knew I couldn’t have this linked to me in any way. Innocent lives would be in danger. And my brother would want me to do things the right way.”
“I think you did the right thing, sir. No one knows you have it, right?”
“If they did, I’d be dead.”
Ato swallowed, starting to realize the gravity of the situation. There was evidence on the criminal activities of Alpha Transportation Services, a company whose board members had seats in the upper echelons of the ruling political party. By eliminating Rahim so brazenly, they had proved that they would go any length to kill the story. It was an election year. A criminal investigation into any member of their party would be fodder for the opposition’s smear campaign.
This was definitely not a story to play lone ranger with. It was time to come clean.
“Mr. Hussein, I think, you should come with me to our office and talk to the chief. If the video is what you say it is, we’ll have the story out by the morning, considering what’s at stake.”
Hussein clenched his fists, twisting his mouth into a snarl. “Your Chief? I’m assuming you’re referring to Kwabena Berko.”
“Yes. You’ve heard of him, then.”
“Mr. Aikins, why do you think I went through the trouble of getting you here alone, making up silly cryptic messages and hiding out in this filthy place?”
“I don’t–”
“The first thing Rahim did when he got the drive was call his boss. He said he trusted him. Hours later, my brother was ambushed and burnt to death. So no, I don’t want to see or talk to your Chief!”
Ato took a step back. Rahim had called Berko? He hadn’t mentioned that. Why hadn’t he mentioned it all this while? Was it true then? Berko was compromised? The thought of it sent shivers down Ato’s spine.
“I have to go now.” Hussein reached into his pocket and brought out an encrypted external drive.
“I’m not like my brother, Mr. Aikins. I’m just an accountant. I want to honor his work and get justice, but I have a wife and three children. I can’t put their lives at risk. Still, all those accidents, the people whose live were destroyed, they deserve justice. My brother deserves justice. Rahim said you were one of the good guys, an honourable man.”
Hussein held out the drive. “I know this will be safe with you.”
***
“He has it,” Dare said when he answered his ringing phone.
“And the guy he met?”
“I have his picture. We’ll find him.”
“So, everything’s in place, then?”
“Yes, sir.”
His employer breathed noisily, saying nothing.
“Dare, I’d pay you double to do what we discussed. No one would know.”
He switched the phone to his left hand. “A missing journalist will feed into the media frenzy created by the dead journalist. The board would prefer to silence this one quietly.”
“Well it should be my decision. I’m the one facing a prison sentence!”
Dare spat out his gum and wiped his mouth.
“I have to go, Honourable. Our man is here.”
***
Ato Aikins walked to his car in a daze. He had craved action for days, and now he had it. His conversation with Hussein played in his mind over and over. It all came down to one thing: he was in possession of evidence that would bring down powerful people who were ready to kill him for it. He felt like the action hero of Hollywood blockbuster.
His phone was ringing. He unlocked the car, opened the door. It was Kwabena Berko. He’d called three times already. Was he calling because he knew? Was he trying to locate him?
Okay, calm down.
First things first. He had to get the drive to a safe place, and then he had to make a few calls. The story was going to be published tomorrow, with or without Heritage Newspaper.
“Is this your car?”
He turned, The man who asked the question was in police uniform. Ato noticed the police car behind him. Had it been there the whole time?
“Yes sir.”
The man walked around the car, as if looking for…something. Two other officers looked on, one in the driver’s seat and the other standing by the car, arms crossed, eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses.
“Your car was used in an armed robbery last night. We need you to come with us.”
“ Ato laughed nervously. “That’s not possible. I think you have the wrong car.”
“You can explain yourself. at the station,” the man’s held his gaze.
“Sir, I think you’re mistaken. I’m a journalist. I can show you my ID and the papers for my car.”
In a split second, Ato’s face was pushed against the car, his arms twisted behind him. He felt cold metal circle his wrists.
In the backseat of his own car, with a stranger behind the wheels, Ato had one prevailing thought:
He was going to die.
©2020 AMA POMAA
Photo by Arisa Chattasa on Unsplash
Happy New Year! I am alive and thriving, ready to go all out for the year. I hope you had some time with family over the christmas holidays. Yes, I abandoned my story, and I apologize for keeping you waiting. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did writing it. I promise to do better this time. Ato’s fate and that of his adversaries should be decided by the end of the months.
Stay safe, and mask up.
