The Manhattan Puzzle by Laurence O’Bryan

card and pass together, but he probably didn’t expect to die that day.
    But instead of using the pass when she reached the room, she simply knocked on the door. She had placed a white napkin on her arm and was holding it to her side. You would have been forgiven for thinking she was a waitress.
    ‘Who is it?’ came a feeble reply.
    ‘Room service.’ Xena’s tone was bright. If there was someone in the room with the pastor’s wife she could apologise and return some other time.
    But when Martha opened the door Xena knew immediately that she was most likely alone. The pastor’s wife had on a black dressing gown and there was the remains of a meal on a tray on the coffee table in front of the wall-mounted TV.
    It was only a few hours since the pastor had met his fate, so his wife would be a little concerned, but not panicking. Not yet.
    ‘I didn’t call for room service,’ said Martha.
    ‘We like to collect things quickly,’ said Xena. She moved past Martha and crossed to the coffee table. She couldn’t see into the bathroom, as the door was closed.
    ‘I will just check your bathroom,’ she said, softly.
    The pastor’s wife looked taken aback. It wasn’t normal for room service to check the bathroom in a guest’s room.
    There was no one in the bathroom.
    Xena removed the knife from the thin sheath that sat on the inside of her thigh. She also put on the black medical gloves she’d extracted from her pants pocket. She held the knife behind her back as she came out of the bathroom.
    The pastor’s wife was sitting on the bed near the phone. There was a quizzical, but relaxed look on her face.
    That changed and her hand went out with a surprising swiftness when Xena spoke.
    ‘Do not scream and I may let you live. If you scream I will kill you.’
    A startled half cry came out of Martha’s mouth. It wouldn’t have been loud enough for anyone to take notice of. In any case, she would have had to scream at the top of her voice for an extended period for anyone to take fright for her in the rooms around them.
    ‘Turn over. Lie down,’ said Xena.
    The pastor’s wife’s face had gone bone white. She had thin lips and flaky skin.
    But she did as she was told. She probably assumed she was being robbed and that her wallet and valuables would be gone with Xena in the next few minutes.
    She certainly didn’t expect the weight of Xena on her back.
    Xena pulled the woman’s arms from her side and pinned them painfully, bending them backwards and up by her shoulders. Then she put the knife between her teeth.
    She looked around quickly, checking no one was watching.
    ‘
Tertium quattuor invocare unum
,’ she whispered.
    Then she pressed Martha’s head hard into the pillow on which it was lying. Muffled shouts filled the room. Then terrified grunts echoed as the woman’s air supply ran out and her heart raced.
    Perhaps, if she’d been ten years younger she might have been able to shift Xena from on top of her, but she wasn’t.
    And now it seemed the room was listening as Xena slid the knife under Martha’s throat and yanked it sideways.
    There was a loud gurgling and the old woman’s body shook as blood soaked into the bed.
    The muffled gurgling lasted about two minutes. Longer than she’d expected. At one point the woman’s kicking and thrashing almost unseated her, but she had done this before. She knew what to expect.
    When the shuddering had finally stopped she released Martha’s head. Then she listened. Far in the distance she could hear a TV. And beyond that the hum of the city.
    She stood. She’d felt a wetness on the bed under her knees. The woman had pissed herself.
    Xena took the knife from between her teeth and pushed it hard into the woman’s side. People can play dead for a while, but if a knife is used on you it is almost impossible not to flinch.
    Martha didn’t flinch.
    Xena stood. She let her own breathing subside. She had to finish the job quickly. The real room service people could come