By Evans Aboagye Tawiah
I jumped out of the bed with all the strength my legs could carry me and stared at Alhaji’s lifeless body.
Fear gripped me since I didn’t know what to do.
Alhaji lay still on the bed with a cryptic
expression on his face like he was sleeping.
The aphrodisiac he had taken to enhance his performance must have caused him a heart attack but then who would believe me? I wasn’t a doctor and had no background knowledge in medicine but then common sense was enough for me to reach my conclusion.
The reality and fear surrounding the fact that the hotel management could charge me for murder, added to my trepidation.
I had to act fast and smart. With trembling limbs, I hurriedly wore my
clothes, ran into the bathroom, splashed water on my face, put on light make up and opened the door to leave but on second thought, I decided to delay for sometime before leaving. I didn’t want the receptionist to suspect that anything was amiss.
I left the room five minutes later and headed to the receptionists desk to receive the payment for my service.
“How is Alhaji?” The lady-receptionist asked beaming her professional smile at me.
“Alhaji is fine o,” I replied struggling to hide my anxiety. “He’s still sleeping.”
“Hope everything is alright?” She asked
looking suspiciously at me.
“Sure,” I replied with an anxious smile on my lips. “I came to collect my payment.”
The receptionist opened a drawer in front of her seat and retrieved some bundles of cedi notes. She handed three bundles to me and announced:“that’s 250k.”
“I thought you said the job was 450k?” I asked, looking perplexed.
“Yea,” she replied. “The hotel management is entitled to 200k while you take 250.”
I wasn’t in the mood to argue so I took the
250k she gave me and zoomed out of the
hotel as fast as my legs could carry me
before Alhaji’s lifeless body was discovered.
I had barely gotten to my room when my
phone began to ring. I looked at the caller and it was the receptionist at Hilly guest house. Instantly, my heart skipped three beats and my breath rhythm increased.
The reason why she was calling me was clear to me and this added to my anxiety.
But then I had to answer it or else I would be tagged the chief suspect without any waste of time so with trembling hands I answered the call.
“Hello,” I said on answering.
“Yes, am I speaking with Cindy?” The female voice at the other end of the line asked.
“Yes, you are,” I replied.
“What did you do to Alhaji? Alhaji was found dead this morning after you had left. What did you do to him?” She asked nearly precipitating a spontaneous cardiac arrest in me.
I nearly slumped on hearing the receptionist’s question but to God be the glory I didn’t.
“I don’t understand what you’re talking
about,” I replied with all the courage my flailing heart could muster.
“Please can you come over to Hilly
guest house?” She asked sending my already weakened heart beating anew.
“Sorry I’m not in town,” I lied nervously.
There was no way I could go back to that
guest house for any reason not to talk of now that a murder case was involved.
“The best thing you can do for yourself and this guest house,” the receptionist continued, “is to bundle yourself back to this place and clarify things or risk turning yourself into a fugitive. Alhaji came in here healthy and hearty till this morning.”
“The Alhaji was sleeping when I left,” I
countered defending myself. “I don’t know what you’re talking about and I’m currently not in town.”
Angrily, the receptionist ended the call.
It was obvious that the guest house was in big trouble as the deceased person was no small individual. Imagine a whole Alhaji.
The case was indeed no small case and the
guest house was bound to answer for it.
No wonder they wanted me at all cost.
But then truth be told, I didn’t kill Alhaji and all of you can bear me witness.
But all the same I wasn’t going anywhere.
As far as I’m concerned, I was out of town
and out of sight.
The police arrested all members of the hotel management including the manager.
They also sent Alhaji’s body to a well known hospital for autopsy. News was sent to the media about a wanted prostitute named Cindy. Luckily for me, my real name wasn’t Cindy so I only had my picture to contend with.
Once or twice some friends called to confirm whether I was the one being shown all over the news in connection to the murder of one reputable ALhaji.
I strongly denied being the one and waved
aside the picture as mere resemblance.
Even my roommate Stella was shocked about the whole development.
My only saving grace was that the name all over the news was Cindy not Linda. Funny enough, when the autopsy result of the dead Alhaji came out, it showed that the Alhaji had died of circulatory arrest resulting from complications of his intake of one locally made aphrodisiac known as burukutu.
This cleared both the hotel management and myself of the crime but the news nonetheless spread all over the country that an Alhaji had died in a guest house after a marathon sex session with a prostitute after taking a locally made aphrodisiac they called burukutu…
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