Blood in the Water
Published by Agneau Press at Smashwords
Copyright 2013 Pamela Lamb
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The body lies face down in the middle of the dam. A shaft of early morning sunlight shines down into the green water where a swirl of blood spills from a gaping wound on the back of its head. I know who it is. Merrie Kaufmann. Children’s writer and pain in the arse. Last seen alive at dinner the night before. The big man at my side speaks in Swahili to his workers congregated on the muddy path. He turns to me. ‘They’re going to get her out. Come on, Miss Carter, let’s go back to the house.’
I follow his broad back up the slope to the house where, on the wide verandah, the boys are laying the table for breakfast. There’s a place set for Mrs Kaufmann, I notice, with her bottle of mineral water already standing next to her plate. Well, she won’t need that. Not this morning. One of the boys pulls out my chair. I sit down and wait while he pours my tea and hands me the jug of milk. Hot milk. Yesterday I asked for the milk to be cold and was answered by a blank stare. I was about to insist but the sound of Mrs Kaufmann’s mid-West twang as she specified her requirements stopped me in my tracks. If you want to know why someone hit her over the head and pushed her into the dam, there’s a reason right there. She was the most irritating woman I’d ever met.