Persona Non Grata

Scene 4 - Two Weeks After

"Time of death, 12:56 PM. Cause of death still unknown."

"...cause of death still unknown..."
"...death still unknown..."
"...still unknown..."
"...unknown..."
"...unknown..."

My mind returns to reality as the sound of the calming rain outside the tavern surged back, gradually filling my ears with the rich sound of falling droplets. It's already afternoon, and the hostess that was supposed to help me for today's work is late again, so I am alone tending the premises, wiping the tables with the rag I have at hand. Although I find myself having to do more work than I'm supposed to, I don't have much reason to complain. I like the divine serenity of being alone indoors on a rainy day as I work. It makes the job less tiring and more bearable and it allows for a certain degree of clumsiness that is not forgivable whenever I'm accompanied by other people during my work hours, as my mind tends to wander on things - especially on the events of the past. And I have this one memory in particular that keeps bothering me so much...

That Spanish doctor...he knew that Parico was having a heart attack at the time. But...he declared the cause of death as unknown at that moment. Why? Lately, I've been having this growing suspicion that the doctor that looked into Parico was not subscribed to the idea that the victim died of natural causes, and thus, I've been finding myself visiting the local embalsamador (embalmer) that took care of the body before it was transported back to Manila, making inquiries about the findings of the Spanish doctor on the body every now and then. Although, even after he finally certified in the official death certificate that Parico indeed died of natural causes, I'm still bothered by the incident. It's as if my gut feeling is telling me that this doctor is digging further into the case than what I'd like and I have to do something about it. He asked me that night what drink I gave the victim when he was struggling to breathe, as if he was somewhat suspicious of my involvement in the incident. I want to tell Placido about it, but...I'm somewhat torn because I know what he will do if I did. The doctor, though a Club member, has nothing to do with this and just happened to be added to the mix of this terrible mess. I don't want to be a tool in the taking of the life of an innocent bystander. But on the other hand, if the doctor found out about the poison I used in assassinating the victim, I might be putting myself and the organization in jeopardy if I don't do anything.

I am so confused.

My train of thought was suddenly interrupted when I heard a knock on the door, and behind the glass panels fitted on the upper half of the door, a figure of a frail man wearing a salakot can be seen standing behind it.

"...Peralta." I muttered to myself as I left the rag on top of one of the tables I am cleaning. "Sandali lang! (Just a moment!)" I announced as I walked towards the entrance to unlock the door.

And behold, Peralta is standing at the door wearing his usual rustic apparel, soaking in the rain. There was something different about his demeanor. His eyes look more...active and observant.

"Tinay, we need to talk. Inside, if you may. Are you alone?" he asked.

"Uhh...yes. I am. Why? And why do you look so nervous? Did something happe-"

I was interrupted in my speech when my eye caught sight of a familiar face standing beside Peralta, taking shelter from the rain. He's so familiar in fact, that I knew in an instant that he isn't supposed to be here.

"What in the-!"

The young man's eyes widened in shock as he turns to face me.

"Whoa! What in the-?!" he cried out. "What the fu-"

I immediately pulled Peralta by the arm and dragged him inside the tavern and slammed the door shut.

"Peralta, can I ask you something?" I muttered softly, giving him a sharp stare as I crossed my arms.