by Farah Zaman
The next moment, the veiled woman raised a small bullhorn and Layla felt a crushing blow on her right temple. Waves of pain radiated from the spot, blurring her vision and causing her to sag to the floor as darkness overcame her.
Chapter Twenty-Two:
Horror in the Tower
Layla regained consciousness gradually, her eyes fluttering open as she became aware of her surroundings. A candle was flickering on the table. She was lying lopsidedly against a wall and had a painful crick in her neck. White strips of fabric were wrapped around her upper body, binding her arms to her torso. Her knees to ankles were similarly shackled, giving her the appearance of a half-shrouded mummy. The smell of incense came to her nostrils and memory returned in a flash. The Woman in White. She hit me on the head.
As her eyes darted around the room, a figure rose from the table, framed in the candlelight
“Mrs. Haddad,” Layla gasped. “You’re the Woman in White?”
“Ah, you’ve come to your senses,” said the tutor as she held an incense stick to the candle flame. She sounded like a nurse speaking to a patient.
“Why have you tied me up?”
“You shouldn’t have chased after me.”
“Then you shouldn’t go around pretending to be a ghoul.”
“It was the only way I could have revenge on the Al-Khalilis.”
“Revenge? Why do you want revenge on the Al-Khalilis?”
“They murdered my niece.” Mrs. Haddad walked over to the fireplace, incense stick in hand. “They cold-bloodedly threw her out of this window.”
“Lamis was your niece?”
“Yes, she was.” Mrs. Haddad placed the smoking incense stick in the fireplace before seating herself in the rocking chair. “The family disowned her after she married that good-for-nothing against their wishes. After her marriage ended, she wrote that she was going abroad to become a tutor but didn’t say where. I never heard back from her. I thought she wanted some space and time to recover, so I wasn’t worried. It was a shock when we were informed of her death. The Al-Khalilis were generous with the blood money but I didn’t believe the story they told her parents. Lamis never cared about jewelry. She would never have stolen a paltry bracelet. Nor would she have killed herself over a man.”
“So, you came here to find out what you could?”
“Yes, it was easy for me to gain the position my poor niece had left vacant. The Al-Khalilis didn’t know of my connection to her. I soon learned from a reliable source that they’d made up that story about her stealing the bracelet and committing suicide. They wanted to make her look like a scorned woman. But it was all a cover-up for what Rashid did to her.”
“What did he do?”
“He molested her. When he became engaged to Jumana, Lamis threatened to tell her what he’d done. That sealed my poor niece’s fate. Rashid and his father, that cripple,” Mrs. Haddad’s lips curled with scorn, “coveted an alliance with Jumana’s father, the powerful Governor of Tarub Province. They didn’t want Lamis to thwart their plans. They hid the bracelet, faked a suicide letter and pushed her out that window.”
Layla’s brain was in a whirl. Her head had been hurting from Mrs. Haddad’s blow but now it throbbed even more. Could it be true what Mrs. Haddad was saying? Had Lamis’s death been a setup? Reason quickly reasserted itself. Shaykh Sulaiman was an honorable man and would not have committed such a heinous act. From what she had heard of Rashid, he would not have done so either. Someone had fed Mrs. Haddad lies. It must be the same person who had stolen the bracelet and murdered Lamis.
“Mrs. Haddad, the Al-Khalilis didn’t murder Lamis. She was murdered by the person who stole the bracelet. She told the maid, Nura, she knew who the thief might be. I bet it’s the same person who told you all those lies.”
“Rubbish. I have it on good authority the Al-Khalilis murdered her.”
“Who told you that?”
“You don’t need to know.”
“So, you had Rashid murdered?”
“Of course not. He fell to his death in the desert.”
“What about Tariq? Are you trying to kill him?”
“Why would I try to kill the boy when I’m here to give him lessons?”
“What about Jumana’s kidnapping? Did you have anything to do with it?”
“When was Jumana kidnapped? That hit to your head must have affected your brain.”
“So why are you pretending to be a fake ghoul? What kind of stupid revenge is that?”
Mrs. Haddad’s eyes blazed. “I’ll tell you why I’m doing this. It’s because I’m hoping to come up with evidence against Rashid and his father. When Rashid met his just end, I only had his father left to destroy. I thought the stroke would be the end of the old man, but he still clings to life. The evidence is hard to come by. They told me to be patient, they’ll find something for me soon. I’ve been biding my time pretending to be a ghoul, to remind the Al-Khalilis of their evil deed. Then they told me to come screaming in the grove at night. That it would embarrass the Al-Khalilis when you become scared and leave. They didn’t bargain on you trying to catch me.”
“Who are they?”
“They are of no concern to you.”
“But why are they helping you against the Al-Khalilis?”
“It’s none of your business.”
“If you ask me, they are just using you.”
Mrs. Haddad glared at Layla. “You’re too meddlesome for your own good, do you know that? If you hadn’t been so nosy, you wouldn’t be here now.”
Ignoring Mrs. Haddad’s rant, Layla said, “They’re only pretending to help you. They’ll never be able to find any evidence against Shaykh Sulaiman because there’s none.”
“Be quiet. You talk too much.”
“You’re dealing with a dangerous villain. You think I don’t know about the Scorpion?”
Mrs. Haddad gave Layla a suspicious look. “How do you know the scorpion is here? You were unconscious when I came back a few minutes ago.”
“The Scorpion is here?”
“Yes, in a jar on the table.”
“In…in a jar?” Layla croaked. Even as the horrific realization dawned on her, Mrs. Haddad went over to the table. She came back and stood over Layla, a small glass jar clutched in her hand. Inside, a black scorpion reared up, its tail thrashing against the side. Layla felt a rushing sound in her ears as her mouth went dry.
“This scorpion is for you,” said Mrs. Haddad, as if she was presenting a gift to Layla. “They told me your death must look accidental. I don’t have the heart to stay and watch. I’ll place the jar on the ground and take the cover off before I leave. The scorpion will sense it’s free and crawl out. Attracted by your body heat, it will sting you. I’m told that death is almost immediate.”
Layla stared in horror at the scorpion in the jar. Mrs. Haddad is mad. Stark raving mad. “Please, Mrs. Haddad. Please don’t do this.”
“I must. I’ve come this far, I can’t stop now. I must have the evidence I’m looking for to destroy Sulaiman ibn Al-Khalili. I cannot let you expose me. I’ll leave the candle burning and will not gag you. No one will hear your screams anyway. The walls are too thick and the tower far away. I’ll come back at dawn to remove your bonds. Hopefully, no one will realize you’re missing before then. When you’re found here, everyone will think you were stung by a scorpion when you came looking for the ghoul.”
With those words, she stooped and set the jar in the middle of the floor. She removed the perforated lid and set it aside. Straightening up, she pivoted and went out the door, leaving Layla to contemplate the awful fate in store for her. Layla felt her skin prickle with revulsion as she looked at the thrashing scorpion. The creature must have sensed the barrier to its freedom had been removed. It began to crawl up the jar. Layla’s heart pounded in time with the pounding of her temple where Mrs. Haddad
had whacked her. As she watched with terrified eyes, the scorpion reached the opening. With a wiggle, it slithered out of the jar and on to the ground.
Chapter Twenty-Three:
Layla’s Long Night
As the scorpion swung its head towards her, Layla struggled against her bonds, but they remained unyielding. Had she been wearing her sneakers, she would have attempted to crush the creature with them. But Mrs. Haddad had removed them. The crafty woman must have anticipated that possibility. The missing footwear and the flashlight were sitting on the floor a few feet away. Layla watched in horror as the revolting creature began to crawl in her direction. It was like staring in the face of the snake charmer’s cobra. Déjà vu all over again.
She knew screaming for help would not do any good. Even Bilqis had deserted her. Layla could not believe she was going to die alone in the tower, bitten by a scorpion of all things. She drew up her knees close to her trembling body. With her eyes fixed upon the approaching arachnid, she prayed for deliverance. The creature crawled relentlessly towards her. She tried shifting away, but it just altered its course to be in line with her body. There was no escape from it.
The scorpion was almost a foot and a half away when there came a pattering sound. Bilqis crept out from under the table. The cat had not deserted her after all. She must have hidden from Mrs. Haddad. When Bilqis saw the scorpion, her hackles rose, and she gave a fearsome snarl. Her body crouched low, primed for attack.
“Don’t touch it, Bilqis,” said Layla. “It will sting you.”
Seeming to understand, Bilqis made no move to get closer to the scorpion. Instead, she began to spit and snarl on the sidelines while the scorpion began to wave its tail madly in the air. As if conceding defeat, the loathsome creature began to crawl away in the direction of the fireplace. Further and further it went until it climbed up the wall of the fireplace and just hung there. Bilqis gave one last snarl as if to say, you’d better not come down from there or else!
“Good girl, Bilqis,” Layla wept, thankful that she had been saved from the fatal sting of the deadly creature. Bilqis came and sat down next to her, the cat’s warm body dispelling some of the chill that Layla had begun to feel. She felt comforted by the cat’s presence. Should the scorpion crawl down the wall, Bilqis would chase it up again. Hopefully, she would not wander off down the stairs. But what would happen when Mrs. Haddad returned and see me still alive? The crazed tutor might very well get the scorpion to finish me off then and there.
Layla’s temple throbbed as she thought of how she could outwit Mrs. Haddad. She would have to pray hard and use her wits to save herself. A vague plan began to form in her mind. Being the daughter of a doctor and a nurse, she had learned many interesting things at a young age. She was not certain her plan would work but she would have to give it a try.
It meant she would have to stay awake until Mrs. Haddad returned. In the meantime, she would get herself into position. She began to lower herself until she was laying full length on the floor. She tried to stay awake, but her mind began to lose focus and her eyes grew heavy with sleep. As exhaustion overwhelmed her, she soon succumbed to the beckoning sweetness of slumber.
Layla heard a sound and came awake. She stared at her surroundings in confusion. Where in the world am I? As she inhaled the familiar smell of incense, memory came rushing back. Mrs. Haddad and the scorpion. Oh no, I must have fallen asleep. She had no idea what time it was. The candle had burned out. All she could see was a pale patch of light coming from the top of the window.
Fearfully, she peered above the fireplace. The arachnid was still affixed to the wall. Layla sagged in relief. She saw that Bilqis napped faithfully by her side. Layla heard then what must have awakened her. The hollow slapping of footsteps coming up the stairs. Mrs. Haddad was returning. Thank Allah I woke up in time to put my plan into action. Bilqis opened her eyes and stood up. As if sensing danger, her mouth opened on a soundless snarl. She scurried under the table, blending with the dark shadows underneath. Layla was glad the cat had the good instinct to hide from Mrs. Haddad. Had the tutor seen Tariq’s pet, she might have guessed what had happened.
As the footsteps drew closer, Layla let the saliva gather in her mouth. Making a face at having to do such an icky thing, she let it drip from the sides of her mouth. She began to groan as if in pain. Mrs. Haddad entered the room and stood rooted to the spot when she saw Layla still alive. From the corner of her half-closed eyes, Layla saw her looking around the room.
The tutor’s gaze fastened upon the scorpion above the fireplace. “It must have bitten you before climbing up. I don’t understand why you haven’t died yet. I was told you would go quickly.”
Seeing her ruse was working, Layla went into her final act. Tensing her body, she shook as if she was having convulsions. She gave a gurgle and ended with harsh, labored breathing. She kept this up as Mrs. Haddad hovered above her.
“I hate to see you suffer like this,” Mrs. Haddad murmured. “I don’t think it will be long now. You’ll be gone before sunrise. And they told me I must go away for a few days.” With those words, she pulled out a pair of scissors and began cutting away Layla’s bonds.
Yes!
Mrs. Haddad gathered up the tattered bonds, took up the remains of the candle and hastened out the door. Layla waited until she could no longer hear the tutor’s footsteps on the stairs. Sitting up, she began wiping the spittle off her face with her scarf. Her eyes went to the scorpion as it made a slight movement on the wall. There was one more icky thing she had to do. She forced her stiff limbs to move and got to her feet. Her head swam. She stood still for a few moments to let the dizziness pass. When she felt steady again, she bent down and picked up one of her sneakers. Walking over to the fireplace, she took a deep breath, steeling herself for what she was about to do. Lifting the sneaker, she brought it down on the scorpion.
She shuddered in revulsion at the squelching sound it made. Her stomach roiled but she kept on raining blows until the scorpion was just a gooey black pulp on the wall. There was no chance of it stinging anyone now. She wiped off the sneaker on the ground before sitting on the rocking chair and donning them both. Her temple ached, and she touched the swollen spot. We were right. Mrs. Haddad had been using a bullhorn to make her banshee wail louder.
Layla called out, “Bilqis, come girl. It’s time we make our escape.”
Bilqis came out from under the table, wrapped herself around Layla’s feet and gave a heartfelt purr.
“I know. Me too,” said Layla, reaching down to pat her. “I feel like a princess escaping from the wicked witch. Thank you for sticking with me. We’re even now. Boy, won’t the others be surprised to hear Mrs. Haddad was the Woman in White.”
Bilqis hissed.
“You sensed the madness in her, didn’t you?” asked Layla. “That’s why you didn’t like her.”
When Layla set off for the castle, the white threads of dawn were giving way to a pale orange glow creeping up to the edge of the horizon. It would be sunrise soon and she was grateful she was still alive to see another day. She filled her lungs with the fresh morning air.
How precious life seemed after staring death in the face.
In the courtyard, Bilqis ran to one of the doors with a cat flap while Layla went through the arcade to the grove. A little knot of dread formed in the pit of her stomach. She was not looking forward to telling everyone her chilling tale.
By the time Jumana was summoned, Layla had showered and changed into a blue jersey dress and cream scarf. And the youths had ascertained that Mrs. Haddad had flown the coop. The deranged tutor had left a note saying she had to leave for a family emergency in Ghassan City. Her blue Range Rover was gone from the forecourt.
Adam had been furious with his sister for going after the Woman in White on her own.
“Were you out of your mind?” he had said. “First, it was the Mole Man with the cobra, now this. I woul
dn’t have been able to face Mom and Dad if that scorpion had bitten you.”
“I’m sorry,” Layla had said. “It seemed like a good idea at the time. I never thought she’d try to kill me.”
Now, as Jumana was recovering from her shock at hearing the terrible tale, Tariq appeared with Dr. Hakam. In a stroke of good fortune, the doctor had been making one of his house calls to Shaykh Sulaiman. The youths had met him in the forecourt when they went looking for Mrs. Haddad’s car. Tariq must have told the good doctor of what had happened and swore him to secrecy. After putting on gloves, he examined Layla’s temple with gentle fingers, asking about her symptoms.
“Well, young lady,” he said at last. “You’ve been very lucky. You don’t seem to have a concussion. However, if you start to feel dizzy, nauseous, or your vision becomes blurred, go at once to the hospital in Khaldun. I’ll leave you a few painkillers. Try not to do anything strenuous for the next couple of days.”
Layla swallowed a tablet and fixed her scarf before joining the others in Zahra’s suite. They were relieved Dr. Hakam had pronounced her fine. Tariq had been upset that a guest in the House of Al-Khalili should have undergone such an ordeal. The discussion now was on what to do about Mrs. Haddad.
“Al-Aqrab is probably protecting her right now,” said Zaid. “The police won’t find her.”
“She didn’t know who he was, anyway,” said Adam. “We have to find the evil mastermind himself.”
“We have to set a trap for him,” said Zahra. “But I have no idea how we’re going to do that.”
Jumana, who had been in deep thought, said, “What if we set a trap by letting them kidnap me again?”
Chapter Twenty-Four:
Setting a Trap
“Oh, no,” said Tariq. “You can’t use yourself as bait. It’s too dangerous.”
“I agree with Tariq,” said Zaid. “It’s too risky.”