Murder At Midnight

with which she, Ihad no doubt, could hear far more than others aroundher!
Mariahad fine features. Her face was oval and she had dark, beautifuleyes. Her dark hair was very long and her nose, dignified. Hersmooth, dimpled cheeks seemed to beg to be touched. This was ayoung lady who was aware of her own beauty. I also noticed that sheflirted easily with the men. Her bright, loquacious and exuberantoutlook to life reminded me of a parrot I once had.
As Nagoth Ali was sitting onthe opposite side of the dining table, I had a good opportunity toobserve him without looking like I was staring. He was quite short with a boyishphysique. He had a round face, fat cheeks and rather femininehands. His fingers were long and shapely, two of which were wrappedin a white, silk handkerchief. He was rather quiet. I alreadydeduced from our first encounter that he was touchy. He reminded meof a porcupine. I had spooked him and his quills were out. He wasthe first to finish eating, and left the table immediately.
Dinnerwas delicious; Amina had not lost her touch.
“You seem fartoo young to retire,” observed Mrs. Marshall, turning to look atme, her round eyes boring into mine. By this time, we had all finishedeating and Amina was busy clearing the table.
“I just wanted to stand on myown feet and be my own boss,” I explained.
“And how areyou finding the experience?” asked Maria with a smilethatinstantly lifted myspirit. Her voice was as soft as silk. It was like the gentlecaress from the soft hairs of a feather.
“Oh, it is quite challenging,” Ireplied, as I let my eyes roam.
“And challenges make champions,”she said.
I agreedwith a smile.
“So you have been here before?”asked Tonye, who was picking his teeth. I wasn't sure why, but thequestion sounded like an accusation. His voice grated on my ears,like the rusty hinges of a creaky door.
“Yes,” I replied. “Willie hasbeen here before, too.”
“I heard two people died herethen on the same night?” asked Philip.
“Yes,” I responded. “An old manand a young lady. The old man died of natural causes, but the younglady took her life.”
“So, she took her own life?”asked Tonye, holding his toothpick in mid-air, with a look ofhorror on his face. “But why did she take her life?” hecontinued.
“Well, she was under someemotional stress, it seems. The autopsy report showed that she wasabout two months pregnant. She also left a suicide note, sayingthat she was tired of life.”
“Oh, it wasterrible,” said Willie. “May God grant her soul eternal rest in hisbosom.” Hemade the sign of the cross and mumbled some prayers, which the restof us could not quite hear. Then, he continued, “She used to cometo my room then, for prayers. Though she never told me her problemsspecifically, she always asked me to pray forher.”
“So you knew she was going totake her life?” asked Tonye.
Willie stared at him in somesurprise. “Inever said that.”
“But Mr. Simpson just said thatshe had some emotional problems and you confirmed it by saying thatshe came to you for prayers,” said Tonye, waving his toothpick inhis hand.
“But it is not everyone who isunder an emotional problem that commits suicide,” pointed outWillie. Nevertheless, Tonye was not satisfied. So, he kept arguingwith Willie.
I turnedto Mrs. Marshall.
“What of your husband?” Iasked.
“He is dead,” she repliedmatter-of-factly.
“Oh, I see.” I said. “I’msorry.”
“He died inthe car accident in which I injured my legs. He was driving and Iwas sitting beside him, when we collided with another car that hadveered off its lane. Somehow, his side door got open and he wasflung out of the car. An oncoming vehicle from the oppositedirection, at top speed, ran over him. He was instantlykilled. The driver sped off. The car finally landed with the roofdown and the tyres up. I crawled out and looked around for myhusband, but I could not find him. It was much later that somepeople came to help me and told me that he lay dead on thehighway.”
I didnot know what to say, as her words painted a truly horrific picturein my mind.
“It was the most tragic day ofmy life,” she concluded in an emotion-laden voice.
But time would prove that more tragedy lay ahead,especially for her.

CHAPTERTWO
SOMEONE TRIES TO KILL ME
Nagoth was absent at breakfast, thefollowing morning. Amina took his meal to him in his room, on atray. None of us asked why. It crossed my mind that many small mentended to make big issues out of nothing. I had a feeling that hewas still angry and was avoiding me. Otherwise, it was a pleasant,dry and hazy Friday morning.
I foundmyself sandwiched between Tonye and Willie. Philip was sittingbetween Mrs. Marshall and Maria on the other side of the table. Andhe was not complaining at all. In fact, going by the smile on hisface, he seemed to be having a good time. I observed that he wouldgently squeeze Maria's hands from time to time, for no apparentreason. From the look on her face, she was confused by hisgesture.
I wascertainly not having a good time. With someone like Tonye by yourside, a good time was completely out of the question. John wasstill sitting at the head of the table and was, as usual, taciturnas ever.
“You annoyed Nagoth yesterdaywhen you came,” said Tonye, with food in his mouth and his cutleryworking in his plate. His open mouth, as he spoke, was an uglysight.
“Yes,” I said. “And it seems hehas not gotten over it.”
“Is it because of his size thatyou called him like that?” asked Willie.
“Yes, I assumed he was a youngboy, doing odd jobs around the Lodge.”
Willielaughed and almost choked on his food. He quickly drank some water.I was reminded again of the fat pig in the cartoon.
“But,” hesaid, when he had gained control of himselfagain, “Nagoth is about your age, Mr. Simpson. Even though helooks small in stature, he is a rich and successfulartist.”
“One cannot always tell age justby the stature,” chipped in Mrs. Marshall.
“Some people are young instature but old in iniquity,” said