Chapters (109)
- Part One
- ONE
- One day earlier
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- PART TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- FORTY-TWO
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-FOUR
- FORTY-FIVE
- FORTY-SIX
- FORTY-SEVEN
- FORTY-EIGHT
- FORTY-NINE
- FIFTY
- FIFTY-ONE
- FIFTY-TWO
- FIFTY-THREE
- FIFTY-FOUR
- FIFTY-FIVE
- FIFTY-SIX
- FIFTY-SEVEN
- FIFTY-EIGHT
- FIFTY-NINE
- SIXTY
- SIXTY-ONE
- SIXTY-TWO
- SIXTY-THREE
- SIXTY-FOUR
- SIXTY-FIVE
- SIXTY-SIX
- SIXTY-SEVEN
- SIXTY-EIGHT
- SIXTY-NINE
- SEVENTY
- SEVENTY-ONE
- SEVENTY-TWO
- SEVENTY-THREE
- SEVENTY-FOUR
- SEVENTY-FIVE
- SEVENTY-SIX
- SEVENTY-SEVEN
- SEVENTY-EIGHT
- SEVENTY-NINE
- EIGHTY
- EIGHTY-ONE
- EIGHTY-TWO
- EIGHTY-THREE
- EIGHTY-FOUR
- EIGHTY-FIVE
- EIGHTY-SIX
- EIGHTY-SEVEN
- EIGHTY-EIGHT
- EIGHTY-NINE
- NINETY
- NINETY-ONE
- NINETY-TWO
- NINETY-THREE
- NINETY-FOUR
- NINETY-FIVE
- NINETY-SIX
- NINETY-SEVEN
- NINETY-EIGHT
- NINETY-NINE
- GLOSSARY
- Acknowledgments
- Continue reading
- Part One
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
On the second floor, Lady Araba’s master bedroom occupied the west wing and opened directly onto a terrace via a framed glass door. Ismael already had a ladder leaning against the wall from the day before when he had been up on the terrace. It was tricky climbing up with a heavy planter in one hand, but he was accustomed to awkward maneuvers. At the top of the ladder, he reached over the decorative terrace wall and set down the first planter gingerly. He returned to the ground and did the same for the second planter before skipping over the wall into the terrace. Ismael loved it here. The shaded pergola, which Lady Araba had designed herself, was surrounded by explosions of color. Hanging ferns, blue plumbago, red ixora, yellow galphimia, and pink desert rose flourished. There wasn’t any other homeowner in Trosacco who could boast of such plant glory. Ismael moved the planters to either side of the pergola. Lady Araba liked symmetry and matching pairs. As Ismael went past, he looked toward the glass door and felt his stomach plunge.
He scrambled down the ladder, jumping the last four rungs to the ground. He ran around to the front of the house, shouting, “Kweku! Kweku!”
Kweku-Sam looked up from polishing off the Rover with a chamois. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s Madam,” Ismael said, breathing hard. “Something bad has happened. Do you have a key to the house?”
Kweku-Sam shook his head. “No. But what has happened?”
“She’s lying in her bed,” Ismael said, “and there’s blood. Take the car and bring Peter here. Quick!”
The Rover’s tires squealed as Kweku-Sam gunned the engine.
Inside the security booth, Peter had finished entering his summary of the night’s activities into the logbook and was giving the morning report to the two security guards taking over duty. There wasn’t much to report, as the shift had been quiet.
He looked up as Lady Araba’s Rover came toward them at top speed. Kweku-Sam jumped out. “Peter, come! Ismael says something bad has happened to Lady Araba.”
Peter frowned. “What is it?”
“I don’t know. You just come, my brodda.”
Peter dropped everything and got into the Rover. Kweku-Sam made a rubber-burning U-turn, and they took off back to 401, where they skidded into the driveway. Ismael was nowhere to be seen. Peter followed Kweku-Sam at a full run to the rear of the house.
“Ismael!” Kweku-Sam called out.
“I’m up here!” Ismael’s head appeared over the terrace wall.
“Chaley, what’s going on?” Peter asked.
“I think she’s dead,” Ismael said, voice shaking.
“What?”
“Do you have a key to get inside?” Ismael asked Peter.
“No, no, I don’t.” Peter started up the ladder. Kweku-Sam followed.