The man took off like a rocket and bolted for the bush at the outer perimeter of a row of houses, but Dawson was ready, and broke into a run just as soon as Kudzo did.
“Stop!” Dawson called out. He was hoping Obeng would be coming around the corner at just the right moment. But it wasn’t the sergeant who collided with Kudzo—it was the dog who had taken a liking to the two detectives. Its tail wagging as it looked back at Obeng, it didn’t see the fleeing Kudzo in time to move out of his way. With a yelp, the dog tried to avoid Kudzo, but it was too late. Kudzo tripped and tumbled. The dog scuttled away, apparently unwounded except for his pride.
Kudzo was quick to get back on his feet, but he was smart enough to know that there was no escaping the two policemen.
“On the ground,” Dawson commanded. “Get down now.”
Kudzo obeyed, lying on his stomach and submitting to handcuffs. Dawson, breathing hard, kneeled beside him to rest a hand on his shoulder.
“Are you Kudzo Gablah?”
“I’m Chief Inspector Darko Dawson. You are under arrest.”
“I beg you, don’t beat me.”
“No one is going to beat you. But you’re still under arrest”