Juba Good
“I’m not. I’m just a uniformed officer. Back home, it was my job to keep the peace, hand out speeding tickets, break up Saturday night fights. When I got promoted to sergeant, I was put in charge of a platoon. I spent most of my time behind a desk, sending my officers onto the streets.
I’m not trained in questioning suspects or in spotting clues.
But here, in Juba, I was all I had to work with.
I decided to pay another call on the Blue Nile.
I told Deng I had a personal matter to attend to. He c...ould pick me up for work later. He didn’t ask what was up.
I waited until most of the dinner crowd would have left. Then I signed out a car and drove to the Blue Nile.
I didn’t get very far. The guard at the gate recognized me. He dashed into his hut, probably to make a call.
The little waitress also recognized me. She’d served me Nile perch and told me the woman who owned a red glass earring was named Judy. Now she took one look at me and bolted for the back. But not before I saw her face.MoreLess
I’m not trained in questioning suspects or in spotting clues.
But here, in Juba, I was all I had to work with.
I decided to pay another call on the Blue Nile.
I told Deng I had a personal matter to attend to. He c...ould pick me up for work later. He didn’t ask what was up.
I waited until most of the dinner crowd would have left. Then I signed out a car and drove to the Blue Nile.
I didn’t get very far. The guard at the gate recognized me. He dashed into his hut, probably to make a call.
The little waitress also recognized me. She’d served me Nile perch and told me the woman who owned a red glass earring was named Judy. Now she took one look at me and bolted for the back. But not before I saw her face.MoreLess
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