WHO TO BELIEVE

In the luminous glow of the rising morning sun, Thomas cruised through the city in his sparkling red Honda, a vehicle that mirrored the fervour of his day. The vibrant hue drew attention as he maneuvered through the streets. A tinge of irritation crept over him as the traffic ahead slowed his progress. Despite his annoyance, he patiently followed the line of vehicles until, at last, he reached his destination.

Pulling up in East Legon, he found himself in front of an elegant apartment. The sleek facade hinted at a life of comfort and luxury. Thomas, however, remained seated in his car.

He lingered in the plush confines of his car, the soft leather embracing him as he patiently awaited the arrival of the mysterious figure he had come to meet. The anticipation hung in the air, heightened by the gentle hum of the engine and the subtle play of sunlight filtering through the windows. Each passing second felt like a small eternity, the cadence of his heartbeat echoing the rhythm of expectation. As the car cocooned him in solitude, Thomas's gaze remained fixed on the entrance, his mind dancing with curiosity about the impending encounter.

Minutes ticked by, and suddenly, the imposing gate of the mansion swung open, revealing a figure of distinguished middle age. His demeanour exuded a mix of authority and warmth, the lines of experience etched on his face.

The middle-aged man eased into the passenger's seat, his movements measured and deliberate. The quiet click of the closing door echoed the weight of the conversation about to unfold. His gaze met Thomas's, a subtle acknowledgment of the gravity embedded in their early morning rendezvous.

"Why exactly do you have to meet me this early?" The inquiry hung in the air, shrouded in the dawn's soft light.

Thomas, his expression a blend of urgency and determination, responded, "This matter is urgent, Andy."

A sigh escaped Andy's lips as he settled into the car seat, his posture reflecting a seasoned understanding of the complexities that lay ahead. "I know, but you have to act calm. If you do things in a hush, people are going to suspect you," he cautioned.

Thomas's eyes bore into Andy's, a silent rebuttal lingering on the edge of his words. "No, Andy, you don't get it, do you?"

"Listen, Thomas," Andy leaned forward, his tone laced with a mix of concern and sternness."The detective in this case is exceptionally clever. Anything you give away will tip him off about what's going on."

"And whose fault is that?" Thomas's retort was swift, a surge of frustration colouring his voice.

"Why did you have to put him on the case?" Thomas pressed, the undercurrent of accusation palpable in his words.

Andy, wearied by the burden of decisions beyond his control, sighed heavily. Leaning onto the car seat, he offered a glimpse into the complexities of his role.

"I'm the head of the Criminal Investigation Department, but decisions aren't made in isolation. Do you think I agreed with them assigning Philip to the case? I have many detectives I could have influenced, but no, they compelled us to choose Philip," Andy confessed, his frustration palpable in the lines etched on his forehead.

"Can't you do anything to get him off this case?" Thomas implored a sense of urgency in his voice.

"And maybe appoint another detective you can influence, so that we can close the case," he added, the weight of the situation evident in his words.

A pregnant silence lingered before Andy responded, "It's not that easy, Thomas. Philip has a spotless record, and in all the cases he solved, he did it exceptionally and flawlessly."

"I understand, Andy, but there must be something you can do. There must be something you must do," Thomas pressed, a note of desperation seeping into his tone.

"I'll think of something," Andy replied, his brows furrowed with contemplation.

"We don't have much time, Andy," Thomas urged a palpable sense of urgency in his voice.

"Perhaps..." Thomas paused, lost in thought. "Can't you use his assistant or whatever to get him off the case?"

"Does he have an assistant?" Andy asked, when Thomas nodded he asked again " How are you going to use him to get to the detective?" curiosity was now etched on his face.

"Well, when he's no longer alive or something, Philip would become a suspect in his murder, and he would be forced off the case," Thomas suggested.

Andy smiled, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "That's a good idea, but how can we execute this 'murder'?" he inquired.

"We just call them. They'll take care of it," Thomas shrugged, a nonchalant demeanour masking the gravity of the conversation.

"Well, so be it," Andy agreed as he opened the door.

"We will meet," he declared.

"Alright, Director Boateng. Remember, if you back out of this, I have the records my dad gathered to use against you," Thomas warned.

A fleeting frown crossed the director's face, but it swiftly transformed into a practised smile as he closed the door to leave.

*************************************

Detective Philip and Yaw were en route to the police headquarters when Philip's phone chimed with an incoming call. Glancing at the caller ID, he noted it was Officer Tod.

He answered with a businesslike tone, his attention fully focused on the call.

"Tod, what's the update?" He Philip inquired

"Detective we've been tailing Thomas as instructed," Officer Tod reported earnestly.

"He made a stop at East Legon, and we observed a man entering his vehicle. Unfortunately, due to our positioning in our car parked at a far distance, we couldn't discern the man's face who got into the car."

Philip's brow furrowed in contemplation as he absorbed the information. "Did you manage to gather any other details"

"No, we followed him after his meeting but we noticed he was going back to his residence" Officer Tod answered

"Alright, can you recall the exact address he visited?" Detective Philip inquired, a tinge of urgency in his voice.

"Yes, we checked it out. I'll send it to you right away," Officer Tod responded, the rustling of papers audible over the phone.

"Good. Keep lingering at a distance around Rexford's residence. I may instruct for their arrest any time from now, especially since we have the audio recordings from the conversation they had," Detective Philip instructed, a sense of authority resonating in his words.

"Alright, sir," Officer Tod acknowledged, his tone conveying readiness.

"Excellent. I'll inform Inspector Evans that I'll be using his police for a few more hours," Detective Philip stated before concluding the call.

"Okay, we have to head to East Legon now," he said to Yaw as he redirected their course, a determined expression on his face.

Detective Philip arrived at the address provided by Tod, the car stationed at a prudent distance from the apartment. Yaw, sensing the anticipation in the air, broke the silence, "Are we going in?"

"No, I'm running a background check on the address. It's quite tedious; it will take some time," Detective Philip replied, his attention consumed by the phone in his hands.

Yaw nodded in understanding, settling back in his seat as he patiently awaited his master's next move. Detective Philip delved into the digital realm, scrolling through websites and filling out forms. Eventually, he unearthed the name of the apartment's owner—Martha Boateng. The name sparked a sense of familiarity, but the origin eluded his memory.

"Okay, let's go out now and..." Detective Philip's voice trailed off as the gate of the apartment swung open, revealing a black Range Rover emerging from within.

"This is the time," Detective Philip declared, starting the car as he observed from a distance. Determined to identify the driver, he followed the Range Rover as it navigated through the streets. The detective's frustration mounted when he realized the windows were heavily tinted, obscuring the occupant's identity.

"What the hell is with these tinted windows? Those with these types are criminals," Detective Philip grumbled, unaware of the irony as Yaw listened, perplexed, given that the car they were in also had tinted windows.

Detective Philip, now driving in front of the Range Rover, slowed down to maintain visual contact. Unfortunately, another vehicle intervened, disrupting their pursuit. He decided to park behind and, once the path was clear, resumed trailing the elusive Range Rover.

After several minutes of winding through the city, the Range Rover pulled up in front of a mall, Detective Philip halting his car as well. Both occupants focused intently, eager to unveil the person they had been tailing.

The door of the Range Rover swung open, revealing a middle-aged man. Although initially obscured, when the man turned, Detective Philip and Yaw caught a glimpse of his face. Recognition flashed in Detective Philip's eyes, but Yaw remained in the dark.

"No wonder Martha Boateng sounded familiar. That was Director Boateng's mother," Detective Philip murmured, revealing surprise at the unexpected revelation.

After spotting the person, Detective Philip decided to turn back. The atmosphere inside the car became heavy, and the detective remained silent for the rest of the drive. Instead of heading to the police quarters, he steered towards his apartment; the darkened mood didn't invite a return to the official precinct.

Curiosity gnawed at Yaw, and he couldn't resist asking, "Who was it, sir?" Sensing the sombre tone in his master's demeanour, he yearned to understand the revelation.

"That's our head, the CID head. Damn it, I don't know who to believe anymore," Detective Philip vented his frustration as he navigated the streets.

Yaw, stunned by the revelation, sank into thought. If the CID head was involved, it raised unsettling questions about the extent of corruption within the security apparatus.

"Will he be our new suspect, sir?" Yaw inquired cautiously.

"I'm confused, Yaw. Now, everyone in the police might be a suspect, considering what we've just seen," Detective Philip confessed, the weight of betrayal evident in his words.

"Even those police I told to patrol and watch over the Rexford residence—we must doubt them. It might be that they are working for them too," Detective Philip added, his trust shattered.

"So, what are we going to do?" Yaw asked, searching for direction.

"For now, I think we'll arrest the mother and son based on the audio we have. We can't afford to wait; they might be planning something else if we don't act now," Detective Philip declared as he parked his car at his apartment, a sense of urgency driving his decisions.