“Things are not always as simpleas you think, Madam. There may be more to this murder than meetsthe eye.” His eyes roved suspiciously over all of us. “You used tobe a policeman, Mr. Simpson, I’m sure you get my drift?”
I certainly did not get hisdrift,so I made noresponse. The drift of his cigarette smoke appeared clearer to me,than the direction of his investigation.
“Moreover, things may just beeasier for the culprit, if he or she confesses to me now. I canwork out one or two things to ease the punishment but if I find outthe truth later, as I always do, there will be no mercy.” His eyeshardened.
Apartfrom the audible ticking of the wall clock, there was expectantsilence in the lounge. Then, Mrs. Marshall cleared herthroat.
“Well, I’ve a confession tomake,” she said in a small voice and we all turned to stare at herin surprise.
“Very good, Mrs. Marshall,” saidthe DPO, smiling encouragingly. “Out with it then, it is alwaysbetter like this when I can still do something. This is not comingas a surprise to me, though. Empirical studies have shown that overeighty percent of premeditated murders are committed by thevictim’s family members.”
And henudged the plain-clothes policeman, who took out his notebook andpencil to take down the confession.
“Well, my confession,” beganMrs. Marshall, “Is that I don’t like your manner of questioning andinterrogation, Mr. DPO. I hope my words have been taken down?” sheasked the man called Mark, who still had his pencil poised towrite.
Someonelaughed and I caught myself smiling.
“Mrs. Marshall,” said the DPO,his voice sounding like thunder. “I don’t like people wasting mytime. You may not like my line of questioning, but it gets meresults. Now where was I? Ah yes!” he said and inhaled deeply onhis cigarette.
When heexhaled this time, it was Nagoth who got the smoke in hisface.
“Mr. Ali, I was at your artexhibition some months ago in Lagos. I actually bought one of them,even though it was rather expensive for a man of my income and allthese things.” And the DPO waved his hand in the air to show thedegree of expensiveness.
“I’m afraid Idon’t remember seeing you,” said Nagoth. “There were so many peoplearound.”
“Yes,therewere, Mr. Ali,”said the DPO tapping off some ash into the tray. “I heard you had acar accident, recently?”
“Yes, two months ago, actually,”replied Nagoth
“I’m gladyou’re alive,” said the DPO. “I gathered that you were quite close tothe murdered, young lady?”
“Yes,” repliedNagoth in a hesitant tone.
“You met her here for the firsttime?”
“Yes, we methere,” replied Nagoth. I noticed that his forehead seemed to be glistening with sweat.
“You must berather quick with the ladies, then?” asked theDPO,chuckling. “I seemto have some difficulties with them, myself. It’s either I’m too slow and they slipthrough my fingers, or I come on too strong and they get frightenedoff. Shall I come to you for some lessons later, Mr. Ali?”theDPO chuckled, and Nagoth had a forced smile. “But just how close were youto this young lady, Mr. Ali, if you don’t mind myasking?”
“We wereclose,” replied Nagoth, guardedly.
“But just how close is close?”asked the DPO. “Were you casual friends, lovers, engaged and allthese things? You understand what I mean now?”
“We were justfriends,” replied Nagoth, stealing a glance at Mrs. Marshall, who was staring vacantly intospace.
“I see,” saidthe DPO scratching his jaw. “Were you friends till midnight whenshe died,or was therea recent quarrel or break up?”
“We had no quarrel or break up,”replied Nagoth. “We were still friends until she died.”
“But is there perhaps some lightyou can throw on her death, Mr. Ali?”
“I’m as much in the dark as youare, Mr. DPO,” replied Nagoth.
“Oh, but I won’t be in the darkfor long,” replied the DPO with a smile. “I’m going to unravel thismystery in no time. Some light will shine on this case, verysoon.”
He roseto his feet. “I’ll be off now. But I still have my men around theLodge and none of you is to leave this place until this case issolved. Is that understood?” he asked.
Weaffirmed that we understood.
After he left with hisplain-clothes officer, I looked at the others inturn.I noticed thatthree of them looked quite worried.
Ayuba looked uneasy.Iattribute this tothe reputation his Lodge was acquiring as a place of death,be itsuicideormurder. Or it couldbe that he was the killer. Maria had mentioned him in her so-calledhypothetical story. He had possession of the spare key, which henow claimed was missing. Maria had scratched her killer and Ayubanow had a huge plaster on his cheek. Too manycoincidences!
Nagoth was also lookingdistressed. Was it Maria who had been wearing the red dress and theshawl, on the night she was killed? If she was the one, what happenedwhen Nagoth went after her? Did they quarrel? Did he discover thatshe was a flirt like her mother had said, and was not in love with him? Did he thenkill her?
Philip also looked troubled.Since the incident occurred, I observed that his slangs and bravadoseemed to have deserted him. He had even lost his usual swagger. Hewas now talking and walking like a normal person. What did he knowabout the murder? I remembered Maria had thrown a drink in hisface. Was this how he had exacted his revenge? I had also heardhim whistling as he went out but silent as he returned, on the night in question. Where had hegone? So many questions, so few satisfactory answers.
Mrs. Marshall was also lookingat each of us in turn. I wondered what was going on in her mind.She was wearing a dark blue skirt and a white blouse. She also hada red, woollen sweater with a round neck andwhite, square buttons down the front draped over the arm of herchair. She was probably wondering who the lab test would reveal hadkilled her daughter.
Hold on a minute! My thoughtssuddenly stopped and my head began spinning. The white squarebutton came from Mrs. Marshall’s sweater! Of course! I had seen herwearing it, on a number
