Margaret Millar once said, “Most conversations are simply monologues delivered in the presence of witnesses.” I was often one of those witnesses.
I wouldn’t say a word while I watched and listened to the discussions that went in on Dr. James Q. Osmond’s parlor. I remember some to be awfully interesting, especially one last summer.
The doctor and his wife, Maggie, had some friends in their house for a visit. I enjoyed the outsiders’ company, as listening and watching the same people chatter about parties and poets and what-not often grew tedious and dry. They showed off their house to the guests and came into my room.
There were three visitors: one man, two women. The man wore a beige suit and parted his hair on the side. He was handsome, and I believe he knew it, as he kept sneaking glances at me.
The first woman had black curls hanging to her jaw. Her grey-green eyes glittered like a vixen’s. She was as vain as the man,(she glanced at me often, too) though her vanity was, in fact, in vain. 
The second woman, a blonde, had a cloche nestled against her soft waves. A red notebook was in her hand at all times, so I assumed she wrote. A gold ring winked at me, leading me to another assumption that she was married. I sensed a little tension from her. She had a nice face; at least, it would’ve been nice had it not been marred by her constant frown. I wondered what had happened to her to make her so unhappy.
Maybe she’s just lost in thought. Yeah, that’s probably it.
She kept twisting the ring with her thumb. Maybe has a nervous constitution.
The sun streamed in through the windows as the doctor and his wife drank in the compliments on the lovely room. Before they were about to walk into the adjacent room, the brunette cried, “Oh! My earring!” Her fingers sprung to her ear and her fox-eyes darted around the carpet for the miniscule jewel.
“I’ll help you find it, Miss Harley,” said the man.
“Do you want us to wait for you?” asked Maggie.
“That’s all right, Mrs. Osmond,” Miss Harley said. “You can just go on without us and we’ll catch up later.”
“All right,” Maggie said tentatively as she guided the other woman and the doctor into the dining room. The pair searched for the earring as the door quietly closed.
They were alone. They gazed at each other for a long moment and rushed into the other’s arms. He kissed her over and over before finally saying, “Alone at last!” He smiled at her.
Your perception of the obvious is phenomenal, I thought.
“I’ve been waiting for so long to be with you again,” said the blond man.
Her curls bounced back and forth as she threw back her head back and laughed. “Tobey, darling, it was only this past week we were last alone.”
He grabbed her hand and looked into her eyes. “I know, but it feels like ages since I saw you, Rosa.” He kissed her hand. She giggled. I felt like I was watching one of those lame soap operas.
“Oh, stop!” She said gaily. “You’re a married man.”
“Not for long,” Tobey replied, winking at her.
She beamed and kissed him. “So when are you getting rid of Marianne?”
“Soon,” he said. I had no doubt that this Marianne was the blonde woman in the group. I grew afraid, and I wished I could shout, say, “Help! Help! There’s a murderer in the building!”
The man backed away from his sweetheart and smiled wickedly at her. He took a pistol from his pocket and aimed at her. Rosa’s face soured. “Tobey? I thought you were...that we were....”
“I thought so, too.” His voice seemed different. Sounded British, but who am I to say? Something wasn’t right in his head. I knew it. “But what about the other guy in your life?”
“I have no idea...”
Rosa never got to finish her sentence. A loud BANG! issued from the gun and Rosa Harley was no more. Her body sprawled out over the carpet.
Tobey calmly strolled over to me. He stared at me, into me. I could see his supposedly youthful features had a haggard look that I had never noticed. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.
“I am the scum of the earth,” he said to me, and I think that he believed it. His eyes widened. He slammed his fist into the mantel.
“What have I done?!” he cried to the now empty room. “I’ve killed a woman. My life is a horrid wasteland,” he lamented.
I just stared back at him, the wretch. I wondered what had happened to make him like this. One could read his face like a best-selling novel.
I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. I wanted to reach out and comfort him, but I couldn’t. Despite my good nature, this man disgusted me. Of course, I could never show it.
He leaned his head against the mantel in despair. “What have I done?” He moaned now.
He jolted out of his miserable reverie. “I’ve gotta get out of here!” He looked frantically about the parlor. His gaze went from me, to the gun, back to me again. He dashed to the dead woman, slipped the pistol between her fingers, and ran out of the parlor like flames from Hades were on his heels.
It was only a matter of time till the Osmonds and Marianne found the body...
The sun had set by the time they all met in the parlor to discuss Rosa’s “suicide.” Of course, I was the only one, other than Tobey, who really knew what had happened. I was surprised by Marianne’s silence. I studied her as she wrote everything that happened in her notebook.
“So, Tobias,” Dr. Osmond said. “Where exactly were you when Miss Harley shot herself?”
“I was taking a walk in your lovely gardens,” he said, giving them a golden smile.
“Well, do you know why she might’ve killed herself?” Maggie asked.
“Not an iota.” He still smiled, but I could see a thin film of perspiration shine on his brow.
“Are you sure about that?” Marianne spoke up. She had paused in her writing. Tobey’s eyes slipped into corners of the room, avoiding Marianne’s steady gaze.
“What do you know?” His voice quavered almost unnoticeably, but the soft sheen soon became drops running down his temples.
“I know about everything,” she said, standing up, “The trysts, the sneaking around. Even the ploy with the missing earring.” She stared at him with composure. Tobey wasn’t looking so cool anymore.
He got up, indignant. The Osmonds stayed right where they were, eyes wide. Tobey looked up at me...and started to laugh as if his mind had run off months ago. His blue-grey eyes were stormy with madness. He pointed at his wife.
“She wanted me to kill you, you know. I don’t know what possessed me to kill her.”
“No, Tobey!” Maggie gasped. “Surely you don’t mean that!”
“I DID IT! I DID IT, ALL RIGHT?!” He yelled at her. She flinched. He looked around wildly, desperate to rest his eyes somewhere, anywhere.
And his eyes landed on me.
“The mirror!” He cried, pointing at me. “The mirror saw me kill her!”
Every eye was on me now, then back at Tobey. He found the gun and pressed it into his sweat-dampened temple. A loud BANG! and he was gone...