Free Vineyard Enigma by Philip R. Craig

honor being bestowed upon them, so they went, laughing.
    I shook hands with John and with Mahsimba. Mahsimba shook hands with Zee. “It’s very kind of you to invite us,” he said to her.
    “We’re glad you could come,” she said. Their hands lingered, then parted.
    “Let’s get you all some drinks and then we’ll go up onto the balcony,” I said.
    Mahsimba was looking at the gardens. “You have a lovely place, Mrs. Jackson.”
    She never took her eyes from his face. “Call me Zee. Would you like a tour of the estate?”
    He smiled a quick, white-toothed smile. “Very much.”
    Zee led him away while I waved the others into the house. At the door I glanced back. She had taken his arm as they walked between the flower beds.

10
    At the supper table I caught Mattie looking at Zee, who was seated between Mahsimba and John and listening to Mahsimba. Mattie flicked her eyes at me before looking back at her plate.
    Mahsimba had been speaking of his onetime job as a safari guide and describing the difference between hyena and cheetah spoor. “Not,” he concluded, “that you will really need that knowledge here on your beautiful island!”
    Zee and John laughed.
    “Tell us about the murder, J.W.,” said a twin. “Daddy and Mahsimba won’t tell us anything. You’d think we were little kids instead of college students.”
    “Yeah, Pa,” chimed in Joshua. “Tell us about the murder!”
    “You are just a kid,” said the twin, “so you shouldn’t listen.” She fluttered her eyelashes at me. “But you can tell us big people, J.W. Please! We’re going to read about it in the papers anyway, you know, so why not just tell us?”
    I looked at John. He shrugged. So I gave a factual description of what we’d seen, leaving out speculation.
    “You mean you can’t even be sure it was murder?” asked a twin, disappointed by the starkness of my report.
    “He was dead, but the authorities will have to decide if it was murder.”
    “What do you think?”
    “I’m told he was shot in the head, and I didn’t see any gun lying around.”
    “Murder for sure,” said the twin, cheering up.
    “Who did it?” asked her sister.
    “The police are trying to find out.”
    “Whoever it was, the victim let him in, isn’t that right?”
    “I didn’t see any sign of a forced entry.”
    “It was somebody he knew, then.”
    “Maybe.”
    “Let’s change the subject,” suggested Mattie. She turned to Mahsimba. “How’s the search for the eagles going?”
    He sipped his wine. “Slowly. There are a remarkable number of galleries and studios on your little island, and I have only begun to visit them. I have many more people to talk to.”
    “Have you learned anything useful?”
    He shrugged. “You don’t always know at the time you get it whether information is useful. It’s dull work, I’m afraid. So far, I’ve learned little that seems important.” He looked at me. “And you, J.W., have you made any progress?”
    I told them about my day. Mahsimba listened carefully, and said not a word.
    But a twin was not so silent. “The woman fainted, you say! Ah-ha!” She and her sister exchanged wide-eyed, knowing nods.
    I wished I could tell them apart, but I couldn’t. “Ah-ha, what?” I asked. “Some women faint all the time.”
    “Pooh,” said a twin. “Women hardly ever faint anymore. Ever since they gave up corsets they’ve been fine. No, she fainted because she was shocked, really shocked. And you know what that means?”
    “It means he was her lover!” cried her sister. “Yes!”
    “Her heart has been broken!”
    “Now, girls, don’t be melodramatic,” cautioned their mother.
    “And we know another thing, too,” said a twin, raising a finger.
    “What’s that?” I asked.
    “We know she didn’t do it. She didn’t kill him. If she’d killed him, she wouldn’t have been shocked at the news.” The twins looked at each other and simultaneously exclaimed, “We should be