THE CALL

     The phone was ringing.  It was two in the morning.  It was Sabine.  She was frantic.

     'Nimo! It's Sam.  He's dead.  His partner John told me.  He said he had an aneurysm.  He said he left a message on the answering machine, but I don't even remember the pone ringing. Oh, Nimo, can you come over? Please.' she exclaimed.

     'Sure, Sabine.  I'll be right there.

     A different doorman was on duty tonight.  He waved him in as soon as Pratt entered the building.  Sabine's door was ajar.  He could hear her sobbing.  He knocked gently and called out her name.  She stood up and threw herself at him.  Pratt stiffened.  He felt so awkward.  He wasn't accustomed to being touched.  He finally brought himself to embrace her as she buried her face into his chest.  He inhaled the scent of her hair.

     'I'm so sorry, Sabine.  I can't believe it.  I just saw him today and he seemed fine.'

     'They said it was an aneurysm but I don't believe them.  Sam was healthy.  How could this happen?'

     Pratt didn't know what to say.  He had never had to console anyone before, even though he enjoyed writing eulogies as a hobby.  He was never put in this situation.

     He was too distracted to be there for her. He had to ruminate on the ramifications of his actions.  He knew they wouldn't detect the poison.  However, they would discover that he was the last person to see him alive.  Certainly, she wouldn't suspect him.  The last time he had an alibi.

     'Why don't we go inside and have some tea,' Pratt said.

     'Okay,' she sniffed.

     'Perhaps you should take off from work and get away from here.
 
     'My sister Julie is coming tomorrow.  I'll just stay with her for a while.  She'll help me with the arrangements.'

     'It's good that you have someone to help you.'  Pratt didn't really know what to say.

     'Can you stay over tonight, Nimo?' she asked.

     'Um...uh...sure.   That will be just fine, Sabine'  Pratt replied, thinking that he gets to see his handiwork.


   

      On the seventh floor of Bellvue, Sabbine ran out of the elevator to Finch's partner.  He was comforting her when he saw Pratt standing there.

     'Oh.  Forgive me for being rude.  This is John, John this is Nimo Pratt, a colleague of mine and a childhood friend of Sam's.  John took his hand and shook it with excessive force.  Pratt felt his teeth rattling.

     'Sabine, they said it was an aneurysm.  A blood vessel ruptured and he hemhorraged out,  I'm sorry.' John said.

     'I'm okay.'  she said.

     'Would you like to see the body now?  You don't have to do this right now.  You could do it after.  I'll be right here, holding your hand.'

     'Yes.  I'm ready.  Nimo, I want you to come with us.  You two did grow up together,'  she stated.

     'Sure. Sure.'  Pratt said.

     The shade was lifted and the medical examiner pulled down the sheet to Finch's chin.  Sabine gasped. 'Yes, that's him' blurted as she buried her face into John's chest.

     Pratt approached the window and caught a glimpse of Finch's face.  He was a bluish color and his lips were blue.  Pratt couldn't believe what good luck he had.  Finch killed himself.  He drank that wine, after all.  He was also able to save Sabine.


     There would be no one to blackmail him now.  Sabine didn't suspect him of any foul play.  He couldn't believe how easy it was this time...