by Nic Saint
“Oh, dear,” said Marge, clasping a hand to her face. “This is the part of the book I haven’t read yet,” she explained when all eyes turned to her. “But please go on.”
“Yes, please go on,” said the Sheikh, who looked stunned by this story—clearly a story nobody had ever told him.
“So the day my mother was supposed to give birth finally arrived, and word had reached her ears that the other wives had arranged for her baby to be smothered in its cradle.”
“What?!” Marge cried, shooting upright. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, settling down again. “Don’t mind me.”
“They felt that a new heir would jeopardize their position to such an extent it was better to get rid of the child altogether. So mother was desperate, especially since she had no one she could turn to—no one who could help. But then salvation came in the form of two men who worked for a large hydroelectric project. Their names were Craig Bantam and Kenneth Cesseki and they were both Americans. She’d seen them walking in the palace garden with the Sheikh, and so one day she managed to sneak a message to one of the men, Craig, and arranged to meet him in secret in the garden, and explained her predicament. Craig, who must have had a noble heart, promised her he’d do what he could, and so she met him in secret several times more, and gradually a plan was hatched to help her escape the palace, along with the baby, so no harm could be done to either mother or child.”
“And you’re saying that my father was complicit in all of this?” asked the Sheikh, who still looked stunned.
“I don’t know if he was complicit, or if he simply didn’t want to know what was going on, but he certainly didn’t listen to my mother, and didn’t arrange for her to be taken to safety, or punish the people conspiring against her,” said Loretta, who’d folded her hands in her lap, and was telling her story serenely, clearly glad to finally get it out. “So my mother had given birth, and had watched my cradle day and night, to prevent anything happening to me, and the day finally arrived that Craig and Kenneth were to smuggle my mother out of the palace, along with me, but something went wrong. Both men were arrested and subsequently deported. Also, my mother had become violently ill during the night, and had to be taken to the hospital. She died later that day.”
“I’m so sorry,” said Odelia.
“But Craig and Kenneth had arranged for a palace servant, one of the rare ones loyal to my mother, to set the plan in motion regardless of what happened to its protagonists. And this brave servant managed to smuggle me out of the palace, and drove me out of the country, across the border into Khamsin, and from there I was flown to safety in America, where Craig proceeded to hand me to my grandmother and grandfather. They were devastated to learn of the death of their only daughter, but happy to be able to take care of me. And they raised me,” she said simply.
“And told you the story of what happened,” Odelia supplied.
Loretta nodded. “They told me on my eighteenth birthday. Until that moment I had no idea who my mother was, or even what had actually happened to her. My grandparents had always told me they were my parents, until they decided the time had come to tell me the truth.”
“But… what happened to the Pink Lady?” asked Gran.
“My mother, before she became ill, had fastened the ring to my diaper,” said Loretta, “so when Craig’s contact person at the palace smuggled me out, unbeknownst to her she also smuggled out the diamond. It was actually my grandmother who discovered the stone when she changed my diaper for the first time, after I’d arrived in New York. And since it was such a famous diamond, they were at a loss what to do with it. So it was decided that Craig would keep it safe until I’d come of age. Unfortunately Craig died before he could tell my grandparents where he’d hidden the diamond, and so it stayed in his safe at the bank all these years until two crooks burgled the bank and this whole rigmarole with the stone began.”
“Which is why you decided to take possession of it,” said Odelia.
“It is rightfully mine,” said Loretta with a touch of defiance. “It belonged to my mother, and she intended for me to have it. It’s the only thing of hers I have.” She now regarded the Sheikh sternly. “It certainly doesn’t belong to you, sir, since it was by your father’s hand, or one of his wives, that my mother died.”
The Sheikh blinked at this, and a slight flush of crimson crept up his cheeks. “Are you accusing my father of murder?”
“Craig told my parents that rumor had it that my mother was poisoned,” said Loretta, “and who else than a person with access to her could have done that?”
“Look, this is all ancient history now,” said Sharif, stirring for the first time. “And frankly I think you should ask yourself, sir, why this person suddenly comes up with this story so many years after the fact?”
“I didn’t ‘come up’ with the story,” said Loretta. “This is the story as it happened.”
But the Sheikh nodded thoughtfully. “Go on, Sharif.”
“I think,” said Sharif, “that Miss Gray here is not your father’s daughter, sir, but a fraud and a con artist. And the only reason she’s telling this preposterous story is to get her hands on the diamond.”
“There’s an easy way to decide whether Loretta is telling the truth or not,” said Odelia. “Do a DNA test. If it’s positive, you’ll know that she’s your half-sister, Bab.”
“Oh, this is simply ridiculous,” said Sharif. “Of course she’s not your sister, sir. Please don’t listen to these people.”
“No, but Mrs. Kingsley is right, Sharif. A DNA test won’t take long, and it will decide this matter one way or another.”
“I strongly advise you not to subject yourself to a test,” said Sharif emphatically. “It can only lead to rumor and innuendo. The mere fact that you agreed to a test would cause people to give credence to this woman’s words. They’ll think that where there’s smoke, there must be fire. Miss Gray will be able to feast on these rumors for years, appear on talk shows, get book deals, start a podcast…”
“Look, I don’t care whether you believe me or not,” said Loretta. “All I want is the Pink Lady. It’s the only memory of my mother I have, and she wanted me to have it.”
“The Pink Lady wasn’t your mother’s to give,” said the Sheikh. “It belongs to the people of Khemed. Your mother had no right to give it to these American operatives.”
“Exactly right, sir,” said Sharif, gloating slightly. “Now let’s end this matter once and for all and return home. Our mission was to retrieve the stone, and we have accomplished that, so let’s not waste any more time with this adventuress.”
The Sheikh regarded Loretta for a moment, then said, “No, I want to get to the bottom of this. I want to do the DNA test.”
“But, sir!”
“It’s done, Sharif,” said the Sheikh, and his tone brooked no contest.
“Very well, sir,” said Sharif, who clearly knew when he had been overruled. “I’ll arrange it.”
Our audience with the Sheikh was at an end, and so we all filed out of the suite, Loretta to return to her own room, and the rest of us to go home. But before we left, Loretta had something to say. “I owe you an apology, Marge,” she said as we stood in the hallway waiting for the elevator to take us down. “I lied to you about who I was, and about the reasons for me to write the book.”
“And I want to apologize to you, Loretta,” said Marge, “for the subterfuge. I followed you after you received the Pink Lady from that insurance man and then made up an excuse to see you and keep you busy while my daughter searched around for the diamond.”
Loretta smiled. “I knew it must have been you who took it. At first I thought it was the cleaner, since she came in shortly before you arrived, and I blamed myself for not hiding it better. But I didn’t have time, and besides, I didn’t think anyone would suspect me of taking the stone.”
“That was very clever of you, arranging things with Dwayne Late and Oscar Godish,” said Odelia.
“Well, I had to
do something. After I discovered the stone had been found, I wanted to get my hands on it before the Sheikh and his cronies did.” She sounded bitter all of a sudden.
“You really think your father had your mother killed?” asked Chase.
“Yes, I do. Craig thought so, too. She was in excellent health, and then all of a sudden within the space of a few hours she died? And just before she had arranged to escape the palace? Craig was absolutely certain she’d been poisoned, and most probably by my father or one of the other wives.”
“I talked to Kenneth, and he told me a different story,” said Odelia. “He said they met your mother, and were immediately kicked out of the country afterward.”
Loretta smiled. “He told me you’d sent him a message through Skype and wanted to talk. He wanted to know what to tell you, so we made some alterations to the story.”
“So what about the book?” asked Marge.
“What about the book?”
“What you just told us in there is all in the book, right? So what was the point of hiding the truth from Odelia?”
Loretta shook her head. “Only parts of what actually happened are in the book—mostly the Sheikh and my mother’s romance and wedding. I decided that the book had to have a happy end, so the character in the book lives happily ever after with her sheikh, and so does their baby girl.”
“Aww,” said Gran.
“So why write it?” asked Marge
“After my grandparents told me the real story of who I was, I found myself writing it all down, and before I knew it I’d written the beginning of a book. I guess I wanted to bring my mother’s story into the world. Until that point no one had even an inkling of what had happened to her, and I felt that was so unfair. I wanted people to know that she had existed, and what a lovely, wonderful person she had been. I also wrote it to feel closer to her—to build a connection to this person I’d never known, but who was so brave and who’d saved my life.”
“By smuggling you out of the country.”
“My grandparents actually had to stop me from telling the full story. They didn’t want me to put myself in harm’s way. The Sheikh has agents everywhere, through Khemed’s embassies. He does a lot of business here, and they didn’t want me to draw a target on my back. They lost a daughter—they didn’t want to lose a granddaughter, too. So that’s why the book only tells half the story.”
“I guess now your cover is blown,” said Odelia.
“I know. I should have known that going after the Pink Lady would get me into trouble.”
“How did you persuade Late and Godish to hand the diamond to you?” asked Chase.
Loretta smiled. “Money, Detective. My grandparents are very affluent people, and when they saw how determined I was to get that diamond, they offered me their support.”
“How much?”
“Ten percent of what the Pink Lady would fetch at auction.”
Chase whistled through his teeth. “They cleaned up.”
But then the elevator finally arrived, and we rode down a couple of floors, then Loretta got out. And as the elevator door closed, and she gave us a small wave, suddenly I had a premonition, and not a good one either.
“You guys,” I said. “I think maybe we should do something to protect Loretta.”
“You think she might be in danger?” asked Odelia.
“What is he saying?” asked Chase.
“He’s saying that he thinks Loretta needs protection.”
Chase’s expression hardened. “Yeah, he’s probably right. I don’t trust that Sheikh further than I can throw him. He’s got crook written all over him. Just like his dad.”
“We better go back up,” said Marge as she punched the elevator button feverishly. But elevators have a mind of their own, and this one inexorably led us down, and only when we’d reached the lobby did it relinquish the reins of its functionality. And so moments later we were zooming back up again. Only when we arrived on Loretta’s floor, she was gone, and when we made our way over to her room, and knocked, there was no answer.
Yikes!
33
But then I put my ear to the door in a move born from desperation, and thought I heard a noise.
“She’s in there, all right,” I said.
“She’s in there,” said Odelia.
Chase knocked on the door again, and shouted, “Loretta? Are you all right? Loretta?”
“Loretta, open the door, it’s us,” said Marge, adding her voice to the chorus.
“Oh, don’t just stand there,” said Gran finally, when no answer was forthcoming. “Mr. Kingsley, tear down this door!”
Chase hesitated for a moment, but only for a moment, then a look of resolution came into his eyes, and he put his mighty shoulder against the door and gave it a powerful shove. When we all tumbled into the room, the sight that met our eyes was one to behold: there Loretta was, on the bed, with Sharif Maroun on top of her, his hands tightly wrapped around her throat, clearly not with the best intentions in mind!
A certain amount of screaming followed, but once again it was Chase who proved himself the man of action, by pouncing on the Sheikh’s advisor and bodily dragging him off the unfortunate novelist, and in doing so saving the woman’s life.
“She’s purple, Max,” said Dooley as he studied the novelist’s face. “Why is she purple?”
“Humans turn purple when they’re being strangled,” I explained.
“It’s not a good sign,” Brutus said. “It means they’re almost dead.”
“No, first they turn red, then purple, and finally when they’re dead they turn completely white,” said Harriet.
Cats, of course, always keep the same color, or at least on the surface. What we look like underneath our nice fur is our secret and one we will never tell!
“Loretta!” Marge cried, and in two great strides had reached the woman and was offering her support.
“We better get a doctor in here,” said Odelia with concern.
“No doctor necessary,” said Loretta, already recovering. “But a cop would come in handy right about now. That man tried to kill me!” she said, pointing an accusing finger at Sharif.
“I know, we saw it,” Gran said. “And as luck would have it, Chase here is a cop. Please do the honors, Chase.”
“You can’t arrest me,” said Sharif, who was sweating from the exertion, and panting, too. “I have diplomatic immunity, so you can’t touch me.”
“We’ll see about that,” said Marge.
“No, he’s probably right,” said Chase. “If he’s got diplomatic immunity he’ll walk.”
“So he can just try to murder Loretta and get away with it?” Marge cried. “No way!”
“Let’s get your uncle in here,” Chase suggested to Odelia, “and let him decide.”
“I think it’s pretty clear now,” said Odelia, “that your mother was killed, Loretta, and I think we know who did the killing.”
All eyes turned to Sharif, and when moments later suddenly the Sheikh walked in, carrying a bouquet of flowers, and took in the scene, he said, in a surprised voice, “What’s going on?”
“Your guy just tried to kill me,” said Loretta, still a little hoarse.
“What?!”
“It’s true, we all saw it,” said Marge.
The Sheikh turned to his advisor. “Have you lost your mind?”
“She’s a threat to you, sir,” said Sharif, who must have felt safe in the knowledge that whatever he said, nobody could touch him. “She was going to tell the whole story about what happened to her mother, and about the history of the Pink Lady. We don’t need that kind of attention, especially now that we’re about to sign a number of very lucrative business deals in this country.”
“I don’t believe this,” said the Sheikh. “You’re admitting that you tried to kill… my sister?”
“Merely eliminating an obstacle, sir,” said Sharif as he adjusted his costume and smoothed his hair, which had become ruffled in the scuffle.
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br /> “The same way you removed an obstacle when you killed her mother thirty-five years ago?” asked Odelia.
Sharif shrugged. “The lady was a nuisance. Something had to be done. She was going to flee the palace and tell the world what a backward nation we were, and what a terrible person the Sheikh was. So I handled her.”
“Handled her!” the Sheikh roared. “So you admit you murdered my father’s wife?”
“I didn’t personally kill her, sir. I merely supplied the materials, and organized the operation.”
“And what about my father? Did he order this?” asked the Sheikh.
“Oh, no, sir. I didn’t see the need to inform him.”
“But you did whisper in the man’s ear that he should distance himself from his wife, didn’t you?” asked Marge.
“Well, of course. The woman was threatening to destroy a tradition we spent centuries building. She wanted to abolish polygyny, the right of a man to marry multiple wives, and make sweeping changes, not just at the palace, but in society as a whole. She was a dangerous element and had to be isolated, then eliminated, for the greater good and to safeguard our traditions and way of life.”
“I don’t believe this,” said the Sheikh, upsetting his own very nice hair by dragging a hand through it. “So you murdered my father’s wife, and now you tried to murder her daughter, my sister.”