***
Once in the restroom, I placed the earring on the third sink. I made to back away from the sinks when the girl in the mirror caught my eye. Over the past few years I'd lost a few pounds, which didn't look too healthy, considering that I had always looked anorexic from the start. I ran my fingers along my clavicle peeking out from behind my shirt. Dad had always complained about it being too obvious. What would he say if he saw it now?
Turning away from the mirror, I headed into the stall nearest to me and shut the door. I wouldn't want to risk letting my legs show from underneath the door, so I backed away. There I stood, waiting.
It didn't take long for the door to swing open. Our girl of interest walked in. Her interrupted footsteps told me she took a moment to scan the room for the item of interest, and for any threats. Still as a statue, I barely even drew in a breath.
The sound of rushing footsteps stole over the silence. I could tell she'd spotted her earring and walked over to retrieve it. I yanked open the door, just in time to see her pick up the controversial piece of jewelry. Her face paled at the sight of me, wiping off any happiness she'd felt to be reunited with her earring.
I put up my hands in mock defense. "What? I'm not Bloody Miri."
She chuckled uneasily. I could tell she knew something had gone out of plan. Eying the exit, she said, "I've...got?class."
Raheem stepped in, blocking the exit. Nengi's gaze flickered between Raheem and I. "What's he doing here?"
When I didn't answer, she turned to look at Raheem. "Why are you here? This place is strictly for females. The male restroom is on the other side."
Raheem folded his hands. "And I thought only murderers returned to the scene of their crimes. It appears even those who failed at being murderers do too."
Again, Nengi laughed uneasily. "Nice joke."
She stepped toward the door, but with Raheem standing guard, she knew failure even from a distance. "Step away. I have class."
"There's no need pretending now," I said. "We know everything."
Her fist tightened on the earring. "Everything?"
"Like I said, even master criminals make their mistakes," Raheem said. "This one is just too immature in the act, and has made tons of them."
"I don't understand," Nengi said. "What are you talking about? What's this about?"
I gestured at her clenched fist. "The earring. You said you didn't come here yesterday. But then you hear news of a missing earring and you run here ASAP to get it. And surprisingly, it's yours. So, how did it get here? Last time I checked, earrings didn't have wings."
"It must have fallen off when Bloody Miri attacked me," she said, the innocence in her voice almost fooling me.
"You were attacked today," Raheem reminded. "It fell yesterday."
"You've got it all wrong," she said. "I admit there was only one earring yesterday, but then I got home and found it on my bed. So I wore it to school and then it fell off during the attack."
"So you're positive it fell off during the attack?" Raheem asked.
"That's the only logical explanation," she said.
"I hate to burst your bubble," Raheem said. "But that piece of jewelry wasn't found here. But in the sickbay. And it wasn't found today, but yesterday. You're probably wondering how it got there. And I will tell you. Here's how it happened. When attacked, the victim tried to fight back. During the struggle, this little piece of jewelry fell off your ear and got stuck in the victim's jacket. And there it stayed until I rushed her to the sickbay. And then it fell to the floor when my partner unbuttoned the victim's jacket to start the mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, but neither of us noticed because we were caught up in the drama. You had this all planned, perhaps as a way to get back at your friend for something she doesn't even suspect. I doubt one would do this without a motive, and a very strong one at that. You knew she would leave for the designated place at the designated time.
"And since I found the victim around eleven forty three, I believe she visited the restroom after she had lunch. So while you made her believe you'd be staying back to do a certain technical drawing assignment, you snuck off to the restroom, where you hid in a stall, patiently waiting."
"And then you applied the perfume to frame Annabel Lambert," I said. Nengi whirled around to watch me speak. "For this reason you refrained from mentioning Henry. You painted Annabel as a jealous girlfriend who would commit murder to keep her boyfriend."
Raheem concluded our findings, "And when we came to question you about Henry, you knew if you didn't act fast, it would only be a moment before we discovered your game. Thus, you made to divert attention from yourself by playing the victim."
"Please let me go," Nengi said. "I didn't do anything. Why would I hurt my friend?"
"We were hoping you would tell us," Raheem said.
"I didn't do anything!" she insisted.
"Okay, that's fine," Raheem said. He moved away from the door and made a sweeping gesture as though to usher her out. "If you say you didn't, that's fine. I'm sure the other evidence will lead us to the culprit."
"What evidence?" she asked, mystified.
"You see, when I saw Doreen lying helplessly on the floor, I knew it was no accident. It was clear she'd been attacked. And when attacked, will you just stand still? Of course you must fight back. One or two strands of hair underneath her fingernail revealed a serious struggle with her attacker. I didn't want to lose vital evidence, so I cut the fingernail and kept it safe. You know, there's probably sweat underneath the fingernail. And sweat, as we know, consists of naturally shed skin cells. A DNA test should point us to the culprit. What do you think?"
"DNA?" Nengi asked.
"For heaven's sake, Nengi, just tell us if you did it!" I said. "Everything points to you."
"Why would I confess to a crime I didn't commit?" she asked.
Raheem leaned in toward her. Holding her shoulders, he said in a low voice, "Look, we all make mistakes. To err is human after all. I understand something must have moved you to do that to your friend. But luckily, she's still alive. We don't know what interrupted the process. Maybe you got scared someone might see you, or maybe when she lost consciousness you believed she was dead, and you ran off. Whatever the reason is, it doesn't matter right now. All that matters is she's alive. We're not going to judge you or anything. Can you just stop lying to us?"
"I did not do anything," she said.
"I know you're scared," Raheem said. "And I understand. But if you tell us now, we will find a way to deliver you from justice. If you insist on lying, we have enough biological materials for a DNA test, and when the result is out, we will be in no position to interfere. Nengi, you're a bright girl, smart and beautiful. You have a wonderful future. Do you want to spend it in jail? Is that what you want?"
Raheem's words seemed to have hit home. Maybe if he pressed on, he could squeeze the truth out of her. Hopeful, he went on, "You can trust us. If you tell the truth and tell it all we'll spare you. But if you don't, well, like I said, the DNA will point us in the right direction."
Nengi shook her head as though trying to shake off Raheem's words. "I didn't do anything."
Simmering with rage, Raheem tore his hands away from her and stepped away. "Fine! I only have to make a call for this to be police case."
He turned toward the door and took his phone from his pocket. While he dialed, I stepped in toward Nengi. Her eyes misted over.
"Do you know what it's like to be in jail?" I asked. "Do you know how many years you are going to spend there? Here we are trying to help cover up your crime and you take us for fools?"
"There's no point trying to let her see reason anymore, Miss Brown," Raheem said. "I guess it's a police case now."
And to Nengi, he said, "For your information, I called your supposed boyfriend a while ago. Got his number off Facebook."
Raheem's words brought a noticeable shudder slipping down Nengi's spine. He went on, "He told me everything. You're not together anymore, thanks to
your best friend leaking a very sacred secret. I understand this is your way to get even. It's hard to forgive someone who's broken your trust. But did you have to go that far? Oh well, I guess the police can take it from here."
After a moment of silence, he moved his phone to his ear. "Detective constable James."
Nengi gasped as the seriousness of the situation seeped in. "Wait!"
When Raheem didn't turn to look at her, she tugged at my arm, forcing me to stare into her eyes. I watched her burst into tears. Tempted to feel sorry, I looked away. I would not sympathize with someone who had tried to take away the life of another.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I did it. It isn't like I wanted to kill her or anything. I only wanted to scare her ..."
My struggle to ignore her grief proved futile. Slowly, my gaze returned to her. My eyes watered at her helplessness. My heart bled at the thought of her spending a slice of her life in jail. But what could I do? Justice must be served.
With his phone pressed to his ear, Raheem strode out of his restroom, slamming the door behind him.
"Go after him," I said, blinking back my emotions.
I watched a frantic Nengi sprint to the door, and to her doom. Once she yanked it open, a palm connected with her cheek, its sound reverberating around the room. Knocked off balance by the suddenness of the slap, she staggered backward. I held her so she didn't crash into me.
"That's for Doreen," Stella said, glaring at her. "And this is for using my sister's name to cover up your evil."
With a force greater than the first, Stella's palm flew to Nengi's cheek, colliding with it with an impact that jerked her face sideways. Nengi whimpered.
My eyes adjusted to the hallway, finding Sir Amadi, Raheem, and another man. He had to be the policeman Sir Amadi had sent for. They'd all put faith in our plan and had been waiting here for this moment.
"Nengi Oruene?" the man called. "You are charged with the attempted murder of Doreen Chukwu. You have the right to remain silent. Whatever you say can be used against you in the court of law."
Raheem smirked. "It is done."
Nengi choked on her sob. "You said you would? You said? You lied to me."
"Of course," Raheem said. "Now that you've confessed, it'll be much easier for the cops to do the rest. Oh, and about the biological materials, I lied about that too."
Still smirking, he saluted her. My throat constricted as I watched the policeman lead her away.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Farewell
"In a remote area of Pennsylvania, Skylar Neese was stabbed fifty times with a kitchen knife."