'In what way? Are you being mistreated? Please, Mr Black, do be candid with me. 'And how are we being looked after here otherwise, Mr Black?' He enquired somewhat distractedly. He removed a pen and notebook and dutifully scribbled 'water' on a growing list. Its languid atmosphere was dulling his wits. He wished to god that he was still in the sanctuary of his air-conditioned villa rather than the stifling torment of Kumasi Central Police Station. No doubt, they'll expect another bribe for their help in poking it through the bars.' Kurtz sighed resignedly, reaching for a white handkerchief and dabbing his glistening forehead. I'll ensure Radley gets that to you shortly. Kurtz returned a sympathetic smile that failed to instil much hope in his beleaguered compatriot. Lugubrious eyes peered at Donald Kurtz, a senior official from the British Consulate in Ghana. They're not providing fresh water.' Bertram Black cut in, looking up wearily. I would like to think that.' 'I need water. Without the cooperation of local police officials, there's very little Her Majesty's Government can do for you. In fact, I have to say I'm at a loss to know where we go from here. 'Listen, Mr Black, in all honesty, I really don't think that you appreciate the gravity of your situation.
