Ms. Davison sat comfortably in her armchair whilst reading an invitation from her old friend, Mrs. Crow. She read it to herself: ‘You, Jane Davison, are invited to a grand luncheon at the Grand Plaza.’ She was to come, as the invitation specifies, to the Grand Plaza, London at noon today. What a coincidence, she thought, as she was planning to go to London, to buy a new party hat. “Juliet?” “Yes, Ms Davison?” “I shall go to London to go to a luncheon and so I shall require my best outfit and shoes, not high heels.”, “Right away my lady.”
“Jane! How are you this fine day?” wondered Mrs. Crow, “Very well actually, Agatha. What a marvellous lounge this is! I see your old habits of pretending to be a hostess has paid off well.”
Wonderfully-crafted teak chairs sat around an onyx-glazed oak table; a magnificent, red rug (originated from China) lay proudly underneath all this. Half an hour later, the clock ticked exactly 12:00pm and suddenly a dozen of Mrs. Crow’s old friends came through the grand, leather-padded oak doors. “Ms. Davison! I am such a fan of your works; ‘The Scorching Desert’ is my personal favourite.” admired Mrs. Brown “The inspiration came from my exhausting trip to India” “Why Ms. Davison what a pleasure, Phillip Brown, teacher of literature. I and my dear wife were only just talking about you and Mrs. Crow, how unfortunate of her not to have any family.” “Yes poor old Agatha, I’m sure she’ll have a backup plan, maybe adoption in which case the child will then become heir to Mrs. Crow’s fortune.”
“Everybody I have some wonderful news to share with you all. For years you have assumed that I have no heir to my family fortunes when actually she has been living quietly with me in secret. It’s my pleasure to present you Jane Crow; I adopted her as soon as she was born, in Manchester, so I had the pleasure of picking a name for her, I chose Jane Crow after my dearest friend, Ms. Davison.” Gasps and claps filled the lounge as a beautiful girl walked inside; blonde, mid-30 and a great personality. “Why have you kept her this long from us, Agatha? A sense of guilt, maybe? Or was it her choice?” enquired Vicar Whals who was wearing, what seems to be, a ruby necklace with a hint of pink. “I hid her because I did not think the time was right to present her to you. In addition to this, the father mysteriously disappeared after he gave Jane this precious rose quartz necklace and gone to the cathedral, whilst her mother got killed in a car accident just a mile from the hospital Jane was born in.”
After greeting everyone, Jane quickly favoured Ms. Davison as she was not as boring as the rest of the crowd. Ms. Davison told Jane of her almost-impossible adventures in foreign countries. She also told Jane how she solved many murders and helped to track many criminals and murderers; only Mrs. Crow and Jane Crow, now, knew about this.
Grey, dull clouds suddenly formed in the sky above the Grand Plaza. “Oh bother and blast! Well, we shall eat even in the midst of this appalling weather.” Ms. Crow clapped to signal the servants to bring out the well-cooked lobsters surrounded bye crispy salad and delicious mussels. Ms. Davison had no idea it was lobster; she absolutely adores lobster, especially with mussels. Sadly not all the guests were there, Mr and Mrs Brown and Vicar Whals were three of them, so they could not start. Out of the blue, the magnificent stained windows broke and a dark, mysterious figure was highlighted from the lightning and the sound of a gunshot whilst a scream of help echoed as one guest fell silently towards her right and then to the floor…
“Ms. Jones! How miserable must her fiancé be? And only just a week until the wedding in Portsmouth! Why her, Lord?” gasped Ms. Foster as she dumb-wittedly dropped her champagne on to the blood stained rug near the victim.
An hour later, the police from Scotland Yard came and taped off the whole lounge; only police and Ms. Davison were allowed inside. The body was immediately brought to hospital for signs of the murder weapon. “Time of death,” announced chief inspector Mason, “12:21pm. A clock mysteriously broke, somehow.” “Odd how she fell to her left rather to her right when the window, the murderer broke through, was more to her right,” wondered Ms. Davison, “bring in the people who were not in the room at that point, chief. I think I shall question Mrs. Brown first.” “Very well Jane. Bring in Mrs. Brown!”
“Where were you at the time of the death?” “Why I was only on my way back from the cloak room,” replied Mrs. Brown, “I forgot my cigars. Oh did I just say that? Please don’t mention this to my husband. He’s so fussy about the cigars killing me! Load of poppycock if you ask me.” “Did you see or hear any mysterious sounds on your way back?” “Now that you mention it, I did hear a loud thump above me. Rubber-boots it sounded like.” “Yes, rubber-boots explains how he or she climbed down to the window.” “Are you right-handed or left-handed?” “Right-handed. Well I hope I’ve been of good use to you, Ms. Davison.”
“Where was I at the time of death? I was exploring the library; searching for my works and trying to see whether Agatha was a fan. It’s quite a prestigious thing to find out who one’s fan is and who is not,” replied Mr. Brown “Yes quite. Did you see anything at all?” “I did see a rather suspicious light, though not as bright, I still thought it was the odd lightning.” “Are you right-handed or left-handed?” “Left-handed.”
“Ms. Crawford, I don’t recall ever meeting you,” “Yes that’s because I came here to see Mr. Brown, he has financial issues; I’m from the insurance company and about to fine him as he did not pay his insurance over the month.” “, ah I see. Now back to my enquiry; where were you at the time of murder?” “I was on my way to the library when I suddenly heard the smash and the scream. I did see a figure walking to the hallway window with some sort of reflecting object in his left hand.” “Yes! Yes! That’s it! Thank you very much Ms. Crawford. Two last questions: did you see Mr. Brown in the library? Are you right-handed or left-handed?” “Yes and I’m left-handed.”
“I was at the loo when I heard a fuss; I panicked and accidentally dropped my precious jewellery box!” “Did you pick it up, Mrs. Anderson?” “I was planning to pick it up but when I got outside, a quarter of an hour ago, it seemed to disappear!” “Did you see or hear anything else?” “Um… I don’t remember.” “Out of interest, what is your occupation at the moment?” “I’m a professional knitter.” “Are you right-handed or left-handed?” “Both, a knitter has to be skilled in both hands to achieve high quality.”
“I was in the bedroom in between the bathroom and library. I accidentally left some of my belongings there from a week ago.” “Were you by yourself?” “One is never quite alone; God is always in our hearts.” “Are you right-handed or left-handed?” “Left, but I don’t know how that helps.” “It does Vicar, it does.”
Now inside the bedroom that was said to have the Vicar in it last week, Ms. Davison and chief inspector Mason searched every crack and corner for any clues. Then she stopped to look at the painting on the wall separating this room and the bathroom. Funny picture, a sailor on a boat hauling some rope (seems to be 2cm thick) towards Ms. Davison. “That’s it! Chief, please take this painting from the wall.” As soon as the painting came off, a hole was discovered, behind the painting, and about 2cm thick.
All the guests were ordered to come in to the lounge. “Everyone I have some prestigious…” A gunshot, a scream for help, a loud thud and Mr. Brown was dead…
“Phillip! No! Why Phillip?!” sobbed Mrs. Brown affectionately at the dead, old man, “Yes why Mr. Brown?” Suddenly Ms. Davison saw a piece of parchment, dropped by Mr. Brown, in the corner of her eye. “Father…father!” a bright smirk came over Ms. Davison’s face. “Father?” wondered the guests
“Two murders! Poor Ms. Jones and dear old Mr. Brown. Why? Why play this cruel game on these poor people?” “I’m not sure Ms. Jones never was meant to die; she had no financial issues, much money and there were no other signs why she should die.” Explained Ms. Davison, “You’re saying that it was not on purpose?!” “Yes, and now I’m ever so sure of the murderer’s plans and who they are.”
“Agatha Crow, you adopted Jane from a couple who died a few hours after the birth. Unfortunately you never knew the parents names, so the birth certificate was never specific. Of course the father never wanted to give his daughter to some stranger; it was the mother’s decision. In which case the father then decided to go on a drive to somewhere, the mother followed suit to find her frustrated husband. They met each other on a crossing near a cathedral; frustrated by the loss of his daughter, the father crashes the car at a tremendous speed at the mother’s car and killed her in the process. Despite killing his wife the father survived with a severe injury, a mental health problem, but there was hope; the local bishop heard the crash so instinctively came out to see what’s happened. He finds the father and takes him into care; the father stayed with the bishop and learnt the wonders of being a Roman Catholic.”
“Thirty-four years later the father, now a vicar, had managed to track down his daughter and so he comes here. Of course he came here to see his daughter but then had an idea; if he killed Agatha then he can adopt his daughter and eventually tell her the truth. So he decided to kill Agatha from the window. His plans were ruined by the thunder storm, he could not go out otherwise he would leave unmistakable foot-prints. But then he remembered that an old friend of his was here, and she was a professional knitter.
They talked to each other and made an agreement: if she provided him with rope, he would give her a quarter of the money that Jane will receive as she is heir to Agatha’s money. As she was about to give him the rope, they heard footsteps. He came into the bedroom he was in last week whilst she went into the bathroom. The painting was removed and the rope was exchanged through the hole behind the painting. Quickly he ran to the hall window, just above the lounge window, and climbed down it. Before he broke in, Vicar Whals was handed the murder weapon, a dagger, from Mrs. Anderson. The Vicar broke in, shot the clock with his shotgun and then threw his dagger at Agatha. Fortunately he missed but hit Ms. Jones, just on the left of Agatha, she fell towards her left because she was hit on her right and also the Vicar is left-handed. Am I correct Vicar Whals, or should I say Thomas Walsh?”
“Damn you Ms. Davison, every bit of detail was correct! Go on then, arrest me, but don’t forget Mrs. Anderson, she helped and she knew what she was in to.”
Applauds and cheers echoed around the scene-of-the-crime (the lounge). “But there’s more, you see Mr. Brown figured this out and found the last piece of evidence he needed to support his idea. That’s where this piece of parchments comes in, ‘Father’ it says, meaning the father of Jane Crow. Sadly the Vicar found out about this and when his chance arrived, last time we gathered in here, and shot Mr. Brown with the shotgun.”
After the police of Scotland Yard came and took Vicar Whals and Mrs. Anderson to jail, the guests finally could eat their fresh, newly-cooked lobsters with muscles. Ms. Davison enjoyed every bit of it and ended the meal by singing a gay, hysterical song she completely made up about mussels and lobsters singing and dancing.
* * *
Aku terus ke Indonesia untuk belajarin kenapa orang-orang Indonesia menanggulangi kesulitan-kesulitan kelaparan dan bagaimana aku bisa menhalangi kelaparan. Hasi-hasil ini mungkin karena sedikit hasil panennya Aceh dan Papua diberikan ke seluruh Indonesia jadi Aceh dan Papua punya lebih sedikit makanan dari panen-panen. Jadi pemecahanku adalah untuk Aceh dan Papua, kalau tidak menjadi negara sendiri, tidak harus memberikan panen-panenya ke kota-kota yang lain. Soalnya kalau terus memberikan panenya ke kota yang lain, nanti Aceh dan Papua tidak akan punya cukup makanan untuk semua orang-orang yang bertempat disana akan mati karena tidak punya cukup makanan. 
Di Korea Utara aku belajar bahwa 65,000,000 orang dari 23 juta tidak punya cukup untuk di makan. Itu dekat 1/3 dari semua penduduk Korea Utara, kalau mau lebih tentu itu adalah 1/3.53846154 atau 28.2608696%. Salah satu hal yang menciptakan masalah ini adalah karena panen-panen tahun ini di meramalkan akan gagal karena banjiran-banjiran berat yang terjadi tahun lalu. Jadi aku bagikan bagian panennya Amerika ke Kore Utara. Aku pilih Amerika karena mereka udah punya banyak makanan dan (aku benaran berpikir) karena ada banyak orang Amerika yang terlalu gendut, karena mereka rakus dan pelit, mereka juga pikir mereka paling hebat.
