Read Online Wife of the Gods by Kwei Quartey - Free Book Online

second table for
the next.
    He looked around for a moment, thinking he really must get the
missing tiles on the wall replaced and get rid of that old defunct
table in the corner that they needed to cart away somewhere.
    He went looking for Obodai, the attendant, and found him
scrubbing down the stone floor in front of the gleaming bank of
aluminum storage drawers. There were twenty of them in columns of
four. They were at full capacity and unable to keep up with the
number of bodies arriving weekly. It was time to add some more
drawers.
    “Morning, Obodai.”
    Obodai stopped his work and practically stood at attention.
    “Good morning, sir.” He gave an imperceptible bow, a gesture so
slight one might fail to spot it, but it was there – a show of
eternal deference to his boss. Obodai had been working at the
morgue for ages. He was wizened and wiry, loyal and unflappable.
Whether you needed his assistance at five in the morning or eleven
at night, he would be there. He was always the first to arrive and
the last to leave.
    “We’ll be doing the case of the young woman from Volta Region,”
Dr. Biney said. “First priority.”
    “Very good, sir. When do you wish to start, sir?”
    “We’re waiting for a detective from Accra. He’ll be witnessing.
Should be here soon.”
    “Very good, sir. Everything will be ready.”
    ♦
    Approaching Akosombo, Dawson slowed down at the security gate,
but the guards waved him on. They had an instinct about who was
legitimate and who was not.
    Just a little way past the gate was the Volta River Authority
Hospital. Dawson parked and went in through an open-walled
reception area. About fifteen patients, some with children, were
waiting to be called in for treatment. As Dawson paused, wondering
where Dr. Biney’s office was, a young woman with a brilliant smile
and expensively braided hair approached him.
    “Good morning, sir,” he said. “Are you Detective Inspector
Dawson?”
    “Good morning. Yes, that’s me.”
    “Welcome to the VRA Hospital, sir.”
    Dawson shook hands with her as she introduced herself as
Victoria, Dr. Biney’s administrative assistant.
    “He is expecting you,” she said warmly. “Please come this way.
Did you have a safe trip up from Accra?”
    He followed Victoria through a double door into the skylit,
air-conditioned corridor within. Dr. Biney’s office was the third
on the left, and his assistant showed Dawson in.
    “Dr. Biney, Detective Inspector Dawson has arrived.”
    As always in new surroundings, Dawson took a quick snapshot of
the room. A full-scale model human skeleton in the far corner,
bookshelf bursting with medical texts and journals, stethoscope and
ophthalmoscope on the desk, piles of folders and papers everywhere,
including on the floor. An outgrown office space of a busy man with
too much to do and too little time in which to do it.
    Biney rose from his desk. “D.I. Dawson, welcome!”
    He was a hearty man with a voice to match, standing at least six
two. He was taller than Dawson and heavier by far. He had a neatly
cropped head of hair and an amazing salt-and-pepper mustache that
sprouted straight out to the sides. When they shook hands, Biney’s
palm dwarfed Dawson’s.
    “Thank you for coming, Mr. Dawson. I trust the journey was
fine?”
    “Excellent, thank you, Doctor.”
    “Can we get you anything? Some refreshment, maybe?”
    “No, thank you. I’m okay for now.”
    “Come along, then. Shall we proceed to the morgue?”
    ♦
    They suited up – gown, apron, gloves, face shield, and shoe
covers – and moved on into the autopsy room. Dawson had somehow
imagined a long row of tables, but there were only two, and upon
one of them lay the body of a young woman. Must be Gladys
Mensah .
    Arranging a tray of instruments nearby was a man in a heavy-duty
apron and thick, knee-high rubber boots.
    Dr. Biney introduced him. “Obodai is my most trusted assistant,
and without him, this place could not run.”
    Obodai laughed