Shrinking into herself, the maid lowered her head.
Wes said, “Lily, it’s okay to answer their questions. As I explained, they are good friends of mine, and they are trying to help me find out what happened to Francine.”
The maid clasped her hands together, as though she was praying, and rocked slightly.
“Lily …” Vivian placed a hand on the maid’s shoulder. “We don’t mean to upset you. We want to know if you found anything … strange in Principal Xarras’ room when you were cleaning it?”
Glancing at Vivian, her eyes full of fear, the maid said, “I found the truth about her.”
“What do you mean?” asked Vivian.
“What truth did you find out about Francine?” Leo asked.
“I found out what she really was,” said Lily Ndu.
“What did you find?” Vivian asked.
Shaking her head, the maid said, “When I was cleaning her room. I found the thing …”
Leo asked, “What thing?”
“The horrible thing,” said Lily. “A little red box with the blinking red eye.”
Vivian glanced at Leo and Wes. Both of them looked as confused as she was.
“What is the little red box with the blinking red eye?” Vivian asked.
“It is a bad thing,” said Lily, hands trembling as she balled them into small fists.
“Where did you find the little red box with the blinking red eye?” Leo asked.
“It was in the bathroom,” said Lily. “It was a bad thing. I did not touch it! I did not steal that horrible thing!”
Wes said, “It’s okay, Lily. I know you would never take—”
“Francine tried to pretend that she was kind,” said Lily, her eyes glazed with fervor. “She tried to make me think that she cared, but I found the truth about her. She was an evil woman. She was anamapopa!”
6
Rural Malawi
After Lily Ndu’s pronouncement of Francine Xarras as a vampire, the maid had been dismissed from the office. Discussing the situation, Wes agreed that Vivian and Leo should head out to the compound to look around and hopefully find the evidence that had convinced the maid of Francine’s foray into vampirism.
Wes had been disheartened and frustrated by the maid’s unabashed superstition. Beyond expressing his firm disbelief that Francine Xarras was a vampire, he’d lamented the belief in witchcraft that plagued the minds of some of the villagers, keeping them from receiving adequate help and care.
The founder’s lament was common; one Vivian had heard bemoaned before by altruistic Westerners eager to help. They became dismayed and disillusioned when their efforts were disparaged, maligned, or outright rejected.
With master keys to the compound buildings and a crudely drawn map of the cottages, she and Leo had climbed into her SUV and left the capital. Following the tarmac roads, they drove through trees and plantations bordered by looming mountains and terraced farmland.
Turning off the main road, they drove down several dusty, dirt roads, following Wes’ instructions. A few hours before sunset, they reached Bingu.
As they drove through the village, past young boys playing soccer in an open field with a ball made from plastic bags and women weaving baskets and a mother doing laundry with a sleeping child secured to her back, Vivian couldn’t help but think of how Africa always stole her heart and broke it at the same time.
After passing a courtyard between mud houses with grass thatched roofs, Leo made a left onto another narrow road that led toward the foundation’s compound, which was anchored by a large multi-purpose building the size of a gymnasium that housed administration offices, three schools, a small pantry, a medical clinic and a storehouse for volunteer donations.
Vivian consulted Wes’ map. “The housing quarters are behind the main administrative building.”
Leo parked the SUV in the courtyard near a cluster of cottages where the staff and volunteers resided.
“Which cottage was Francine’s?” asked Leo after they exited the truck.
“There are twenty cottages,” said Vivian, glancing at Wes’ notes. “Francine was in number seventeen. It’s toward the back, near the pineapple field.”
Ten minutes later, Leo used the master key to open Francine’s cottage. Inside, the air was stuffy and hot. Vivian glanced around. A modest structure with an open-concept studio plan. One side of the room was a living room, with a small loveseat, television, and writing desk. On the opposite side, there was a twin-sized bed, a night table, a five-drawer bureau and a door that lead into a bathroom.
Leo asked, “Okay, so where did Lily Ndu find the little red box with the blinking red light?”
“In the bathroom,” said Vivian, walking toward the door leading into the toilet. “Probably in some cabinet, or something.”
In the small area, there was a pedestal sink, a tiny shower, a toilet, and a plastic clothes hamper.
Pointing to the hamper, Leo said, “Want to bet that’s where we’ll find the little red box?”
Vivian nodded. “There’s no place else to hide anything.”
Moments later, Leo lifted the lid of the hamper. Nestled on top of a mound of soiled clothes was, indeed, a small red box.
“Bingo,” said Leo, reaching into the hamper to grab the box.
“Maybe you shouldn’t pick that up,” said Vivian.
“Too late,” said Leo, shrugging as he stared at the device.
“There’s something else in here,” said Vivian, turning to grab a wad of toilet paper to protect her hands. Reaching into the hamper, she pushed aside a T-shirt and a bra, uncovering what appeared to be three small glass bottles filled with dark liquid.
“This is some kind of equipment used for blood analysis,” said Leo. “It’s a HemaCube.”
“And this looks like blood in a bottle,” said Vivian, carefully lifting one of the glass vials.
“No wonder Lily Ndu was spooked,” said Leo.
“I wonder why Francine would have hidden these things in her hamper?” asked Vivian. “And why would she have a blood analysis device?”
“Maybe Dr. T. Farmer at the Good Hope Clinic can tell us,” said Leo.
“Who is Dr. T. Farmer?”
“I think he’s the guy who owns this device,” said Leo. “His name and where he works is written on the back of it.”
7
Good Hope Village Clinic
Bingu Village,
