Shadow Play Read Online Free

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    â€œDid anyone go for her?” Osman asked, turning to the group of musicians talking behind him. One nodded. “Should be here soon, Che Osman.”
    Maryam arrived home to find the investigation grinding to a halt. Osman seemed to have run out of questions, and Dollah had never intended to give any real answers. Maryam went to make coffee immediately, hoping to grease the wheels of police work and get them off her property as quickly as possible. It looked awful, a dead body, police everywhere, musicians milling around. “This kid can’t handle it,” she whispered to Mamat in the kitchen. “He’ll never find out what happened. He can’t even talk to anyone! He can’t understand us.” She shook her head ruefully. “I’d say it was horrible to have this happen at Yi’s sunat , and, of course, it is horrible,” she added hastily, while Mamat smiled. “But Yi’s going to think it’s really exciting.”
    â€œI know,” Mamat replied, watching Maryam add the syrupy milk to the coffee and mixing it. She loaded a tray with coffee and cups and handed it to him. “He’ll never stop talking about it,” Mamat finished as he walked outside, Maryam following with a large collection of Rubiah’s cakes she’d had the foresight to take from the market, and they set everything down on the porch.
    The musicians talked animatedly among themselves, hoping to go home soon and leave this behind them. Osman wondered sulkily if he would ever learn much Kelantanese, or ever solve this crime, and then Aisha appeared, her pretty face blotched with red, her eyes puffy,stepping out of the police car looking wildly around.
    â€œWhere is he?” she looked straight at Osman, who rose awkwardly and ducked his head.
    â€œ Cik Aisha. I am so sorry…”
    â€œWhere is he?” Her voice rose an octave, threatening to break glass on the next sentence. Maryam walked with her as Osman led them to Ghani’s body, now covered with one of Mamat’s sarong. Aisha’s hands shook and though she controlled her tears, her lips trembled and she swayed slowly.
    â€œBreathe!” Maryam urged, praying Aisha wouldn’t faint. When Osman drew back the cloth, it was clear he had taken some pains to straighten out the body, and make it more decent for Aisha’s view. It wasn’t the best way to preserve clues, Maryam thought, but it was a nice touch for the widow.
    Aisha stared hard at Ghani, biting her lips, unable to speak. Maryam murmured to her, comforting her as best she could, though there was really nothing to say. Aisha nodded finally, saying curtly,
    â€œIt’s him.”
    On the porch, with a coffee cup balanced in her hand, Aisha stared at Osman as he talked, as if unable to make sense of where she was and why he spoke to her. Maryam took over: someone had to, or she feared they might stay all night and she couldn’t wait to have everyone leave.
    â€œ Cik Aisha,” she began with a significant look at Osman, “when did you last see your husband?”
    Aisha saw Dollah, and tried to smile. “Saturday?” Dollah nodded.
    â€œDid you come here to see him?” Maryam probed further. She really didn’t need Osman to tell her what to ask: the questions seemed obvious.
    â€œNo.” She looked at Maryam as the silence grew longer. Finally she added, “I have two kids at home. Why would I come to visit him?” She sighed, her shoulders slumping. “Can I go home now? I have so much to arrange….” Her eyes filled with tears, and Dollah took her arm.
    â€œCan I take her home now, Che Osman? Look at her, she needs to get back.”
    Osman agreed, looking preoccupied, and turned back to the corpse. As the new widow left, he squatted again by the corpse with one of his men. “What do you think made this wound?” he mused.
    Rahman reached out a tentative hand, not quite touching