The Sign of the Scorpion Page 15

  “But…but…he didn’t… we didn’t…” Tariq spluttered.

  Jumana repeated the story she had told Layla in the Garden of Dreams.

  After she was done, Tariq said, “It must have been because of the anonymous letters.”

  “I wonder if we’ll ever find out the truth,” said Jumana. “It’s been like a never-ending nightmare since Lamis’s death.”

  “What was Lamis like?” asked Layla. “Did she seem out of whack in any way?”

  “Not at all,” said Jumana. “She seemed like a normal, intelligent woman. In retrospect, perhaps a bit too quiet and serious. The only person I saw her laughing with is the maid who came to clean our suites back then. They seemed very friendly.”

  “Lamis’s suite was in this wing?” asked Layla.

  “Yes, it was the last suite down this corridor,” said Jumana. “Mrs. Haddad’s suite is next to it.”

  “Does Mrs. Haddad know her suite is next to the dead tutor’s?” said Zahra.

  “We told her, and she didn’t have a problem with it,” said Tariq.

  “Mrs. Haddad has nerves of steel,” said Jumana. “She doesn’t strike me as being the skittish sort.”

  “Who was the maid who cleaned your suites back then?” asked Zaid.

  “It was Nura. She’s a sweet girl but she seems so different now. Like she’s afraid of her own shadow.”

  The teenagers shared a look.

  Layla said, “If she was friends with Lamis, it gives her a good motive for being the Woman in White. It would also explain the incense sticks in the tower. But I don’t know what she meant with that warning about evil to come.”

  “What incense sticks and what warning?” said Jumana.

  They told her.

  “It’s all so mysterious,” said Jumana when they were done. “I think we should speak to Nura and clear up these mysteries.”

  “I’ll have her come to your suite after breakfast tomorrow,” said Tariq.

  “Yes, please do that.” With a strange mixture of fear and anxiety in her amber eyes, Jumana said, “I have a feeling we’re going to hear some momentous things tomorrow.”

  Chapter Twenty-One:

  Nura’s Story

  After breakfast the next morning, they all gathered in Jumana’s suite for the meeting with Nura. The maid arrived, wearing her customary allover black. She looked surprised to see them all there. Layla’s heart leaped as she remembered Jumana’s words from the night before. I have a feeling we’re going to hear some momentous things tomorrow.

  “Have a seat, Nura.” Jumana gestured to a chair.

  The maid sat down and folded her hands in her lap.

  “Nura, we have some questions to ask you,” said Tariq. “Is that okay with you?”

  “Yes,” she said, her cherubic face looking uneasy now.

  “Were you friends with my tutor, Lamis?” asked Tariq.

  Nura looked startled at the question. “Yes, we did get along well.”

  “Did she ever tell you anything about Rashid?” asked Jumana. There were dark circles under her eyes and a paleness to her face. From the way she gripped her hands, Layla could tell she was bracing herself for Nura’s reply. Poor Jumana. She must have lain awake last night, wondering what dark secrets would come to light about her dead fiancé.

  “No, Lamis never told me anything at all about Mr. Rashid,” said Nura.

  Jumana’s relief was plain to see. “Did she tell you anything about herself?”

  “She revealed that she was recovering from a divorce. From what she implied, I knew the marriage had been an unhappy one. She told me once she wouldn’t ever marry again. She got her wish because she’s dead now.” There was a sheen of tears in the maid’s eyes.

  “I don’t understand,” said Jumana. “If Lamis didn’t want to marry again, why did she steal my bracelet and kill herself?”

  Nura’s dark eyes flashed. “She wasn’t the one who stole your bracelet. And she didn’t kill herself either. Someone pushed her out that window.” The maid’s lips trembled, and tears filled her eyes.

  The listeners looked at each other in shock.

  “Why do you think that, Nura?” asked Jumana.

  “On the evening your bracelet was stolen, I went up to Lamis’ suite to refill her refrigerator. She was quiet and had a worried look on her face. I asked her what was wrong. She said, ‘I think I know who stole Jumana’s bracelet.’ Shocked, I asked her who it was. She said, ‘No, I can’t tell you that. I could very well be wrong and accuse an innocent person.’ When her body was found two mornings later, I knew she must have confronted the thief, who killed her and then framed her.” Nura came to a stop, tears trickling from her eyes.

  Jumana handed her a tissue.

  “Nura, why didn’t you tell this to the police when they came?” asked Tariq.

  “I was afraid they wouldn’t believe me,” the maid whispered, wiping her tears. “I thought they would think I was making up the story and suspect me instead. Servants always get blamed when things are stolen. I couldn’t afford to lose my job. My family depends on me. You can’t imagine how wretched I’ve been since Lamis died. I felt like I’ve betrayed our friendship because I did nothing to clear her name. The one who killed her is still here. I can feel the evil. It’s getting stronger and stronger. Sometimes I see Lamis in my dreams. I think she’s trying to tell me something, but I don’t know what. I feel like I’m going mad sometimes.” The maid began to weep softly, her body rocking in a paroxysm of grief.

  After Nura calmed down, Layla asked, “Are you pretending to be Lamis’s ghoul, the Woman in White?”

  “Of course not. I would never do such a thing. It would be an insult to Lamis.”

  “Do you know who might be doing it?” asked Zaid.

  “No, I don’t know who would do such a wicked thing. All the servants are puzzled and scared.”

  “We’ve seen you twice now by the lookout tower,” said Adam. “Are you the one lighting the incense sticks there?”

  “Incense sticks? No, I don’t know anything about incense sticks. I go sometimes and look at the tower, wondering what happened that night. But I’ve never gone up there.”

  After a minute of silence, Tariq said, “Thank you for speaking with us, Nura. You can go now.”

  Looking relieved, the maid left the room, dabbing at her eyes.

  “I don’t know if Nura is telling the truth or if she’s plain crazy,” said Jumana. “If she’s telling the truth, it means there’s a murderer walking around scot-free. Oh, I wish Rashid had never given me that accursed bracelet.”

  Seeing their surprise, she said, “I don’t really mean that. I know the bracelet wasn’t to blame. But when a thing causes such ugliness, you can’t help hating it.”

  “I think Lamis and Uncle Rashid’s deaths are connected,” said Tariq. “And Al-Aqrab is involved in it all.”

  “We should go see Aini tomorrow after Jumu’ah.” said Zahra. “Maybe she’s heard something new about Al-Aqrab.”

  “Alright, we’ll go to a mosque in Khaldun and speak with Aini afterwards,” said Tariq.

  The mosque Tariq took them to the next day, was a modern structure with spacious accommodations. The sermon was on the wisdom of the Creator in apportioning bounties and blessings in varying degrees to human beings. In all circumstances of life, there was a test involved, be one a pauper or a billionaire. The words resonated with Layla. Had she not seen evidence of this with her own eyes? Those who had much and those who had little were all tested alike, albeit in different ways.

  When they went to look for Aini, the gypsy woman was not in her usual spot in front of the clothing store.

  “She must have gone home or is running an errand,” said Layla.

  “Let’s go ask in the clothing store,” said Zahra. “Maybe they’ll know where she is.”


  The owner of the clothing store was a heavyset man of middle years, dressed in a tan robe. He had shrewd eyes coupled with a smooth tongue. None of his customers left the store empty-handed. When they found him free for a moment, Tariq asked about Aini.

  The storekeeper looked surprised. “You knew Aini?”

  “Yes, we met her outside your store a couple of times,” said Tariq. “We want to speak with her. Do you know if she went home?”

  The man looked at them for a long moment. “Aini died three days ago.”

  The teenagers shared a shocked look.

  “Oh, my God. How did it happen?” asked Layla.

  “It was a hit and run accident. I don’t know what the world is coming to these days. A poor woman gets killed and the driver takes off like nothing happened.”

  “Where did it happen?” asked Zahra.

  “In her street as she was returning home that evening.”

  “Anyone saw what happened?” asked Adam.

  “No, it was getting dark and the neighbors were all inside. One of them was coming home from work at about eight when he saw her body at the side of the road and called the police. Another reported that at about seven, she heard the impact of the car hitting Aini’s body but didn’t realize what it was at the time. When the ambulance and police arrived at about eight thirty, they said she had been dead for an hour. Maybe if someone had found her right away, they might have been able to save her. But Allah had decided her time was up and so Aini is gone. I’ll miss her. She’s been using my storefront for over two years.”

  “When was she buried?” asked Zaid.

  “The day after she died. One of my customers whose nephew is a policeman, told me a strange thing.”

  “What was it?” asked Layla.

  “Her nephew said Aini was clutching a dead scorpion when they found her. Odd, isn’t it?”

  The young people suddenly looked as if they had been turned to stone. The shopkeeper gave them a curious look, no doubt wondering at their strange reaction.

  “Thank you for telling us,” said Tariq at last.

  They walked out of the clothing store and stood in the spot where Aini had sat. Hot tears filled Layla’s eyes and she stifled a sob. Poor Aini. The Scorpion must have murdered her because she spoke with us. She was right to be terrified of him. If we had left her alone, she wouldn’t be dead now. Layla had no idea how long they tarried in Aini’s spot, giving in to the grief that had grabbed them by the throat.

  Adam finally said, “Let’s go to a café. We could all do with some tea right now.”

  Twenty minutes later, seated at a table in a secluded corner of a Chat N Chai, they sipped their beverages.

  Zahra sniffled. “He killed her. It’s our fault.”

  “Three days ago, was the day after she spoke to us,” said Tariq. “He must have had spies watching us.”

  “We’re probably being watched right now,” said Zaid, his eyes darting about the cafe.

  Layla balled her fists. “He must be stopped but we have no idea who he is.”

  “We know he’s from a rich and powerful family and has a tattoo of a scorpion on his upper arm,” said Zaid. “Maybe that information will come in useful.”

  “We have to find a way to expose him,” said Adam. “Otherwise he’s going to strike again. It might be close to home the next time.”

  That night, a persistent noise dragged Layla out of a deep sleep and brought her to wakefulness. She lay still for a few moments, wondering if it was the Woman in White. There were no sounds from her brother and friends, so it could not be the fake ghoul. She heard the noise again. It was a faint mewing and it seemed to be coming from the grove outside.

  She glanced at the bedside clock. It was close to twelve. Sliding out from under the covers, she went over to the window and opened it. The mewing came from right below, a pitiful cry that tore at her heartstrings. It must be Bilqis. She must be hurt. There’s only one thing to do. I’ll go see what’s bothering her. I think I can handle it by myself without disturbing the others.

  Layla got dressed quickly, pulling on her black all-purpose gown over her pajamas and grabbing a brown scarf. Through the open window, she could hear Bilqis’s mewing escalating into angry yowls now. Hastily putting on her sneakers, she picked a comb and the flashlight she still had from their exploration of the dungeon. She hastened out of her suite and down the stairs.

  At the bottom of the stairs, she wedged the comb in the door and entered the grove. Pale strips of moonlight spilled through the trees, casting swirling moonbeams on the ground below. Layla had never been unreasonably afraid of the dark. With a name that meant “night” she had always considered herself aptly named.

  Turning on the flashlight, she followed the sounds of Bilqis’s caterwauling to the huge ghaf beneath her window. When she looked down and saw two pinpoints of fire staring up at her, Layla almost screamed before she realized it was Bilqis’s eyes. How laughable it would have been if I had screamed and the others came down to the grove and caught me. Pointing the flashlight down, she saw Bilqis had been trapped by a vine. It was wrapped around one of her paws and in her struggle to be free of it she had gotten even more entangled.

  “Oh, you poor little kitty,” Layla crooned. “Just stay still a minute and I’ll get you away from the bad vine.” She lowered the flashlight to the ground and began to untangle the vine.

  Bilqis stared up at Layla, her eyes glittering like gems. When Layla freed her at last, the cat gave a soft purr of gratefulness and rubbed herself against Layla’s legs.

  “Twice now I’ve saved you,” said Layla as she picked up the flashlight and stood up. “You owe me big time. What were you doing here anyway? Were you hunting a jerboa like the one you were chasing the other night? I’m afraid you’ll have to take a rain check on that. Your paw is probably sore from that vine. Come, I’ll take you inside.”

  The cat began hissing, her tail flailing from side to side. Layla froze as she heard the slight dragging of footsteps. Quickly, she turned off the flashlight, wondering if it was Hatem or the Woman in White. Moments later, she saw a white blur coming towards her. Her heart skipped a beat. The Woman in White. I’ll finally meet her face to face.

  The fake ghoul was garbed in her usual head to toe white with just the darkness of her eyes showing above the veil. As she drew closer, Bilqis vibrated with wrath. The cat backed up against Layla’s legs with a ferocious hiss, causing Layla to lose her balance. As she flung out her hands to steady herself, the flashlight fell to the ground with a dull thud. Hearing the sound, the Woman in White came to a stop, her eyes probing the gloom. When she saw Layla, she spun on her heels and fled.

  “Oh no, you don’t,” said Layla. “You’re not getting away this time.”

  Thinking she might need the flashlight if the Woman in White went to hide in the orchard again, Layla scrabbled on the ground for it. She wasted precious moments but found it at last. She took off after the fake ghoul, vaguely aware of Bilqis at her heels.

  The Woman in White had gotten a good head start. By the time Layla cleared the grove and raced into the inner courtyard, she saw a flash of white turning left towards the lookout tower. Layla sped across the courtyard and along the path towards the dark, towering structure. She arrived at the clearing just in time to catch a glimpse of white entering the tower. Still filled with the thrill of the chase, she continued to run until sudden realization hit her and she skidded to a dead stop.

  The setting was eerily similar to the one in her dream. In it, she had stood at this same spot, staring up at the tower. In a quandary, Layla debated what to do next. Should I go after the fake ghoul or should I play it safe and return to bed? If I returned to bed, I might never get this opportunity again. A warm touch against her leg reminded Layla that Bilqis had kept pace with her. She bent and patted the cat.

  “Let’s go, Bilqis,” s
he said, making up her mind. “I’m a little nervous but I can’t miss this chance to catch the Woman in White. We need to solve this mystery once and for all. I mean, what could she do to me there? Push me down the stairs? I’m tall and strong. I’ll make sure I hold on tightly to the rails. Come on, let’s go”

  As if she understood, Bilqis gave a soft purr, her large green eyes staring up trustingly at Layla.

  Layla walked to the door of the tower and opened it. She winced when it gave a protesting squeak. The fake ghoul would have certainly heard it if she was just inside. Layla moved the flashlight around the entry and up the stairs. The Woman in White was not lurking there. She had gone up to the tower. Training the beam of the flashlight on the stairs, Layla began to climb, gripping the rails with her left hand. She kept a sharp lookout for the Woman in White. She did not want the fake ghoul to suddenly appear and startle her.

  Bilqis padded behind her, and Layla could only marvel at the cat’s intelligence. As she got closer to the top, her heart pounded in her ribs like a sledgehammer. When at last she reached the landing, the door stood closed and it was as silent as a grave. Had Layla not seen that fleeting flash of white, she would have thought she was the only human being here.

  “I know you’re in there, Woman in White,” she called out. “Come out and show yourself. The game is up.”

  There was dead silence.

  “You can’t hide in there the whole night,” said Layla. “I’d like to know why you’re doing this.”

  Still dead silence.

  I have to go in. She’s not going to make this easy for me.

  Taking a deep breath to ease the knot of fear in her stomach, Layla pushed open the door and almost ran back down the stairs. The empty rocking chair was moving slowly back and forth as if pushed by an unseen hand. Realizing that the Woman in White must have set it rocking when she fled behind the door, Layla went into the room. Before she could lose her nerve, she pulled the door forward, aiming the flashlight behind it. She cried out as she stared into dark eyes above a white veil.