turn off the lights?”
“The inverter.
You can use the on-off switch, or if you like, you can push the reset button
and the lights will come on again automatic at the next cycle.”
“You know how
to do that?”
“Yes. Mr.
Edward teach me.”
“Oh,” she said.
“Besides you and Mr. Edward, do you think anyone else at the hotel knows how to
turn off the inverter?”
“No. Mr. Edward,
he don’t like too much people to know, so only him and the night security guard.”
“I see.” She
reflected on that a moment. “Amadu, thank you.”
She had guessed
he was from northern Ghana, so she thanked him in her rudimentary Hausa, which made
him smile broadly in appreciation.
“Listen,” she
said, going into her purse, “you’ve really helped me and been very patient. I
know you’ve lost your job and things are hard. Let me give you a little
something to help you in return, okay?”
“Thank you, madam.
May Allah bless you.”
“And you.”
As Paula walked
back to the street to pick up a taxi, she thought deeply about her conversation
with Amadu. She liked him, but more than that, she believed him, and he
had given her a couple jewels of valuable information. A serious question now
arose: Was Edward, a man she and Thelo had known and trusted for years, having
a secret affair with Heather? Had the affair gone bad? Or had he lusted after
her, only to be spurned? Had he turned off the pool lights that night, and if
so, why? The underlying question was critical: could Edward have killed
Heather?
CHAPTER TWELVE
By the time Paula made it back to the mall, Stephan and
Stephanie were more than ready to eat at the food court. Paula firmly refused
their request to dine at the new McDonald’s.
“We ate at the
one on Oxford Street only last week,” she said sternly. “That’s enough to last
you for months. We didn’t have all this cheeseburger stuff when I was your age.”
“Did they have
Oxford Street when you were our age?” Stephan piped up brightly.
“Yes, we did,
as a matter of fact,” Paula said with some indignation. “I’m not that old.”
Stephan nudged
his sister and they both began to giggle.
“Oh, it’s
funny?” Paula said in mock outrage.
“It’s Sunday,”
Thelo scowled at her. “Why not treat them to McDonald’s?”
“Don’t you
start, Mr. Cholesterol,” she said. “You need to take off some weight yourself.”
He rolled his
eyes, but didn’t argue. Paula thought he might be thawing out a little
toward her, but there was some way to go. They agreed to eat at Papaye , a
wildly popular and always crowded restaurant that served a delicious variety of
roasted chicken, savory rice and coleslaw.
While Thelo
helped the twins with their choices, Paula excused herself and walked quickly down
the mall promenade, which was packed with youngsters flirting or sitting around
texting—or both. She was looking for the shop where Oliver had bought Heather her
swimsuit as part of his effort to cheer her up on the last day of her life.
Paula found it—a
store called “Sun and Sand,” which obviously catered more to expatriates than
Ghanaians, who aren’t much into swimwear, she reflected. A couple of bored young
assistants were inside the otherwise empty store and seemed relieved to have
something to do as Paula went in and introduced herself. She asked if they
remembered a slim, young white woman and a Ghanaian man coming in on the
previous Sunday to buy a tangerine-colored swimming costume, as Oliver had
described it, but neither of the assistants had worked that day.
“Do you think you
still have that outfit?” Paula asked.
“I think so,”
one said. She went to one of the carousels and looked through the hangers.
“Maybe this one?”
She held it up
and handed it to Paula. It fitted the description and the quality was excellent,
although it was a little too bright for Paula’s taste and clearly made for
women with much trimmer hips than hers.
“Will you like
to try your
“The inverter.
You can use the on-off switch, or if you like, you can push the reset button
and the lights will come on again automatic at the next cycle.”
“You know how
to do that?”
“Yes. Mr.
Edward teach me.”
“Oh,” she said.
“Besides you and Mr. Edward, do you think anyone else at the hotel knows how to
turn off the inverter?”
“No. Mr. Edward,
he don’t like too much people to know, so only him and the night security guard.”
“I see.” She
reflected on that a moment. “Amadu, thank you.”
She had guessed
he was from northern Ghana, so she thanked him in her rudimentary Hausa, which made
him smile broadly in appreciation.
“Listen,” she
said, going into her purse, “you’ve really helped me and been very patient. I
know you’ve lost your job and things are hard. Let me give you a little
something to help you in return, okay?”
“Thank you, madam.
May Allah bless you.”
“And you.”
As Paula walked
back to the street to pick up a taxi, she thought deeply about her conversation
with Amadu. She liked him, but more than that, she believed him, and he
had given her a couple jewels of valuable information. A serious question now
arose: Was Edward, a man she and Thelo had known and trusted for years, having
a secret affair with Heather? Had the affair gone bad? Or had he lusted after
her, only to be spurned? Had he turned off the pool lights that night, and if
so, why? The underlying question was critical: could Edward have killed
Heather?
CHAPTER TWELVE
By the time Paula made it back to the mall, Stephan and
Stephanie were more than ready to eat at the food court. Paula firmly refused
their request to dine at the new McDonald’s.
“We ate at the
one on Oxford Street only last week,” she said sternly. “That’s enough to last
you for months. We didn’t have all this cheeseburger stuff when I was your age.”
“Did they have
Oxford Street when you were our age?” Stephan piped up brightly.
“Yes, we did,
as a matter of fact,” Paula said with some indignation. “I’m not that old.”
Stephan nudged
his sister and they both began to giggle.
“Oh, it’s
funny?” Paula said in mock outrage.
“It’s Sunday,”
Thelo scowled at her. “Why not treat them to McDonald’s?”
“Don’t you
start, Mr. Cholesterol,” she said. “You need to take off some weight yourself.”
He rolled his
eyes, but didn’t argue. Paula thought he might be thawing out a little
toward her, but there was some way to go. They agreed to eat at Papaye , a
wildly popular and always crowded restaurant that served a delicious variety of
roasted chicken, savory rice and coleslaw.
While Thelo
helped the twins with their choices, Paula excused herself and walked quickly down
the mall promenade, which was packed with youngsters flirting or sitting around
texting—or both. She was looking for the shop where Oliver had bought Heather her
swimsuit as part of his effort to cheer her up on the last day of her life.
Paula found it—a
store called “Sun and Sand,” which obviously catered more to expatriates than
Ghanaians, who aren’t much into swimwear, she reflected. A couple of bored young
assistants were inside the otherwise empty store and seemed relieved to have
something to do as Paula went in and introduced herself. She asked if they
remembered a slim, young white woman and a Ghanaian man coming in on the
previous Sunday to buy a tangerine-colored swimming costume, as Oliver had
described it, but neither of the assistants had worked that day.
“Do you think you
still have that outfit?” Paula asked.
“I think so,”
one said. She went to one of the carousels and looked through the hangers.
“Maybe this one?”
She held it up
and handed it to Paula. It fitted the description and the quality was excellent,
although it was a little too bright for Paula’s taste and clearly made for
women with much trimmer hips than hers.
“Will you like
to try your
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