Helen was Lt. Clottey’s only sibling. She was 30 and a nurse at the prestigious West Africa Specialist Teaching Hospital, the biggest hospital in Africa. She had been working there for eight years. She was getting ready to get married to her fiancé, Lt. Ken Badoo also of the Military Intelligence (MI), Lt. Clottey’s unit in the army. He met and fell in love with Helen when he attended Helen’s 30th birthday party to which his friend and colleague, Lt. Victor Clottey had invited him to.
Lt. Clottey spent another hour behind the TV, listening to the various reports filed by various reporters working for different TV stations. So far, none of the reports showed that the authorities had a clue about the motive for the massacre and those behind it.
When it was 7:40am, he decided to go get the day’s newspapers from the vendor who always supplies him with newspapers. The sun was shining fiercely when he stepped out of his house. He was glad he had put on his baseball cap. As he headed towards the newspaper stand which was just about a hundred metres away from his house, he occasionally looked back to see if somebody was following him. No one was.
The newspaper vendor beamed with a smile when he saw Lt. Clottey. He quickly selected the newspapers the Lieutenant always buys and handed them over to him. The soldier took a quick glance at the various front pages; none of the newspapers had reported on the bloody massacre of the night. That, to Lt. Clottey was understandable; at the time the crime was committed, many of the day’s newspapers were on their way to the various stations ready to go viral. It was therefore too late for any newspaper to publish the story even if the publishers got wind of the crime soon after it was committed.
“Sir, I reserved a copy of THE DAILY TRUST newspaper for you because I knew you would like to read about the front page story. I have sold all the limited quantities given to me but I reserved one for you” the vendor said, reaching under a pile of newspapers and pulling one from beneath. It was the day’s edition of THE DAILY TRUST newspaper and it had on its front page the bold banner headline, BLOODY NIGHT! The subsidiary headlines read; “28 gunned to death in cold blood”.
The vendor was smiling at the lieutenant whose heart began to beat. It was to Lt. Clottey as though the vendor knew he knew more about the crime and in fact was the only person the one that took place at the police.
“Why are you smiling at me?” he asked the vendor who then looked at him, puzzled at the question.
“Sorry sir. I thought you would like the fact that I reserved this paper for you. However, if you do not like it, you can give it back to me. I will sell it,” he said.
Lt. Clottey realized he was over-reacting. He did it when his sister came from behind him and concurred that what was being shown on TV was bizarre. With the way he was over-reacting, a trained person will become suspicious. He quickly smiled at the vendor and said he appreciated the fact that he had reserved a copy for him. He then gave him a tip and then thanked him before walking away.
On the way back home, he told himself he ought to calm down and stop over-reacting. He needed to keep his cool so he could think properly about how to ensure the gang does not succeed in assassinating the Vice-President. Any false move or blunder on his part could give the game away and alert those behind the plot that he was privy to their plans. In addition, of course, that would make him a candidate for a coffin, as they would surely come after him.
Breakfast was ready when he arrived home. After the bloody scene that night at the James Town police station, the last thing he felt like doing was eating. However, he did not want his sister to suspect there was something bugging him. Therefore, he forced himself to have the breakfast of tea, bread, eggs and baked beans, which she served him. Afterwards, he went to his study, an indication to his sister he wanted to be left alone.