Abdulah stared at the limp body with horror. No ... it couldn't be true. He dropped the whip and felt for a pulse. Finding none, he backed away from the bed and went to the bar. He fumbled for a glass and the bottle, but his hands were shaking so badly that he got more vodka on the bar than in the glass. She was dead. But how could that be? He hadn't meant to kill her. He reached for the phone.
"Ahmed, come here immediately. ... I need you. Right." He felt much better just having done that. Ahmed, his trusted servant and friend, would take care of everything.