Edward Wilson, a newly arrived inspector, sits on the balcony of the Bedford Hotel in British West Africa on a Sunday during matins, the early morning canonical prayer hour. The scene is buzzing with diverse figures from Black clerks and local schoolboys to a turbaned Indian fortune-teller. Working undercover, Wilson introduces himself to a cable sensor named Harris as the new accountant for the United Africa Company (UAC). Drinking gin-and-bitters, Wilson tells Harris he doesn’t like poetry. Harris tells Wilson the government is afraid of the West Indians who run the coast. He also says the British police are corrupt and in the pay of Syrians who smuggle illegal diamonds to the Germans. Harris points one such officer out, a man named Scobie who is walking alone below the balcony up Bond Street. Harris alleges Scobie is beholden to Syrian black marketeers and sleeps with West African women. Wilson inquires about Scobie’s personal life and Harris tells him that Scobie’s wife, Louise, is the “city intellectual” (6) and a lover of arts and literature.

The point of view shifts to Scobie’s character. Scobie walks past the Secretariat as he reflects on his 15 years of service in British colonial security.