The Moon of Masarrah

by Farah Zaman

  “Actually, I just found out that Luqman could have gone to the playland,” Zaid said.

  “I thought you said he couldn’t,” Adam protested.

  “Well, I had a quick talk with Maymun before I came here and found out that Luqman borrowed Grandpa’s van yesterday to go for a doctor’s appointment and run several errands.”

  “Well, I spoke to Abbas before we came here,” Adam said rather smugly, “and found out that Mir used the Land Rover yesterday and didn’t get back until the afternoon. Which means that he could have gone to the playland and then cut his foot afterwards. Abbas still didn’t give any details of how that happened. I had the feeling that he was hiding something.”

  “So who’s looking for the Moon?” Zahra asked in confusion. “Is it Luqman or is it Mir and Abbas?”

  “I think all of them are,” Adam said. “They may be in league or working separately.”

  Through the open door, they heard the crunching of gravel and became quiet as they looked at one another. Zaid rose and went to the door just as Abbas came lumbering up.

  “Thought you’d be here,” he said in his deep voice. “Maymun was looking for you. She said to tell you that Nuh Tabibi’s nurse called, asking to speak to you urgently.”

  “Okay, thanks Abbas,” Adam said. “We’ll be right there.”

  After the gardener shuffled away, Layla said excitedly, “Maybe Nuh’s memory is back. And Hud has kept his promise. I had totally given up hope of that.”

  “Well, we shall soon find out,” Zaid said. “The two crucial things we have to ask Nuh about are the dagger and the diamond. If he remembers about them and is willing to tell us, of course.”

  Back at the house, Maymun handed Adam the nurse’s phone number. Picking up the cordless phone in the kitchen and turning on the speaker, he dialed the number. The nurse, who seemed a chatty woman, confirmed that Nuh was presently in possession of his faculties and they should come right away. She also invited them to stay for lunch, which Zaid thought was very nice.

  “We’ll be there as soon as we can,” Adam promised.

  “Going to visit the old salt, eh?” Maymun looked up from the potatoes she was peeling, her eyes speculative.

  “Yes,” Adam replied. “Can you let Grandpa know? I don’t want to disturb him.”

  “Of course. And don’t worry, I’ll see to the little ones. You all have a nice time.”

  “Thank you, Maymun,” Layla said gratefully, feeling awful for even thinking that the good-natured woman could be involved in any underhanded scheme.

  After getting their bikes from the shed, Layla fished out her little purple notepad with the directions to the Tabibis’ house and studied it. “It seems clear enough. We go in the same direction that we went for the picnic but keep going until we come to a fig orchard. Take the shortcut through it and go past some houses until we come out onto a road. Follow the road, and it’s the first house we see.”

  They set off on their bikes at a brisk clip and soon approached the fig orchard, which was filled with tightly packed trees laden with ripening figs on the verge of turning purple. Getting off their bikes, they pushed them along under the shady trees as they listened to the birdcalls and the buzzing of fig wasps. Clearing the orchard, they saw a cluster of small, dilapidated villas ahead of them. A group of young boys were playing with a ball in a little clearing, talking and laughing in shrill, high-pitched voices. When they saw the newcomers, they stopped and stared at them, their ball lying unheeded on the ground.

  “We have to look for a road here,” Layla consulted her purple notepad. “Let’s ask one of those little boys. It will be faster.”

  Adam beckoned to them and a skinny little boy wearing oversized clothes came forward.

  “Hello, little one,” Adam said to him. “What’s your name?

  “Miqdad,” the boy smiled, showing a gap in his front teeth.

  “Miqdad, can you show us where the road is?” Adam requested. As he reached into his pocket, Zaid laid a restraining hand on his friend’s arm and said in an undertone, “If you give him something, all the others will come running for their share too.”

  Adam quickly pulled his hand out of his pocket and repeated his request. Miqdad, who had witnessed the byplay, said shrewdly, “I don’t know where the road is.”

  “You sly little rascal,” Zaid said in exasperation. “You know very well where it is.”

  “Okay, here’s some toffee,” Adam said, pulling out a small packet of brown squares. “Now tell us where the road is.”

  Miqdad looked at the toffees and remained silent, his eyes eloquent with disdain at the measly offering.

  “Here’s some candy,” Zahra held out several.

  “And a bar of chocolate,” Layla offered.

  Miqdad looked pointedly at Zaid next. Rolling his eyes, Zaid dug into his pocket and pulled out several gums. Handing them to the little rascal, he said, “Now will you tell us where the road is?”

  Miqdad quickly grabbed all the booty before pointing to the left. “The road is there.”

  “You drive a hard bargain, Miqdad,” Adam said ruefully, ruffling the boy’s hair.

  Miqdad smiled shyly and sped away.

  “He’ll make a good businessman someday, insha’Allah,” Zaid said and they all laughed.

  They set off down the road, pedaling vigorously to make up for lost time. As they rounded a curve in the coastline, they spied an attractive villa almost hidden among almond and pomegranate trees. They rode down the curving driveway towards the courtyard and after parking their bikes they walked up to the front door. Zaid rang the doorbell and moments later, the door opened and a heavyset woman wearing glasses looked out. The teenagers exchanged greetings with her and waited politely to be invited in.

  “Come in, come in,” she gestured to them, opening the door wider.

  When they were inside she studied them through the thick lens of her glasses. “I’m Salma, Nuh’s nurse. I hope you didn’t have any trouble finding the place.”

  “One of the little fellows across from the orchard helped us,” Adam told her.

  “Those little ragamuffins?” Salma sniffed. “I hope you didn’t give them money. It just encourages them to beg.”

  “Um…just candy,” Adam replied.

  “Hmph,” Salma snorted. “I suppose that’s fair enough. You do have the look of your father,” she said, appraising Adam intently. “My daughter Rawan said you did. Which one is your sister?” After subjecting Layla to an intense scrutiny, which made the girl squirm a bit, Salma said, “You remind me of your Great-Aunt Hanifa. You have the same green eyes with pointed chin and dimples. She and my oldest sister Najah had been best friends. Where has the time gone?” she asked of no one in particular. “Seems like only the other day my Rawan and your father were at school together.”

  “Your daughter was at school with my father?” Adam asked.

  “Oh, yes. It was she who told me you children were here. She saw you at the library. She’s the librarian there.”

  “We’ve met her,” Adam replied, sharing a knowing look with Zaid.

  “You’d better go in and talk to Nuh then,” Salma pointed to a closed door. “Right pleased he was to hear you were coming. He hasn’t been himself for a long time. Don’t know how long that’s going to last. Let me know if he starts getting agitated. Hud told me what happened at the museum. Shocked to hear that, I was,” she clucked. “I’ll have lunch waiting for you when you’re done.”

  “Thank you,” Layla said as they headed to the door.

  The door opened into a cozy sitting area with a panoramic view of the bay visible from the open windows at the back. Nuh was lying in a recliner, his chest rising and falling gently as he dozed. At the sound of the door opening, his eyes opened, and he stared at them before getting slowly to his feet. There was no sign of recognition in his ey
es as greetings were exchanged. Not that Zaid had expected to see any. The old man had been in the grips of dementia when he had chased them out of the museum and was unlikely to remember that episode.

  “Sit down, sit down,” Nuh said in a high, thin voice as he sat back in the recliner and gestured to several sofas. “You are all Yusuf’s grandchildren?” he squinted up at them.

  When Adam indicated himself and Layla, the old man stared at them for a long moment.

  “Rafiq’s great-grandchildren,” his voice trembled with a wealth of emotion, as tears filled his eyes. “It’s such an honor to meet you.”

  “Mr. Tabibi,” Adam said tentatively, “it’s very kind of you to see us.”

  “Oh, please call me Nuh. How can I help you?”

  “We’ve come to ask you about the last voyage of the Yuhanza,” Zaid said. “Do you remember anything about it?”

  “The last voyage of the Yuhanza,” the old man uttered in a quavering voice. “How could I forget it? It was the last time I sailed with my dear friend. We were just a handful and had to work extra hard, but we made it by the grace of Allah.”

  “Yes, Grandpa told us that only the Faithful Five and the Captain sailed on that last voyage,” Layla remarked.

  Nuh frowned as if in thought. Then he shook his head and said, “No, that’s not right.”

  “What’s not right, Nuh?” Zaid asked.

  “It wasn’t just the Faithful Five and the Captain who sailed on that voyage. There was another crewman who came with us.”

  Chapter Fourteen:

  Last Voyage of the Yuhanza

  The teenagers shared a look of surprise after Nuh’s

  revelation.

  “Are you sure, Nuh?” Adam asked. “Grandpa told us it was just the Faithful Five and the Captain.”

  “Well, it wasn’t so,” the old man replied testily. “Rafiq and I were at the wharf getting set for the voyage when Tahir Usmani, one of the regular crewmen who had opted out of that voyage, came and begged us to take his son Iyad along. He said that Iyad’s life was in danger and he must leave Bayan Bay at once. Rafiq was moved by Tahir’s plea and agreed without a moment’s hesitation. So Tahir gave over his ship’s bag and khanjar to his son and that’s how Iyad came to be the sixth crewman.”

  “You’re sure this was the last voyage of the Yuhanza, Nuh?” Adam asked, reluctant to trust the old man’s memory when his grandfather had told them otherwise.

  “Yes, yes,” Nuh replied impatiently. “It most certainly was. Iyad was no sailor but we were shorthanded, so no one questioned his presence there. Only Rafiq and I knew the reason why. We kept silent out of consideration for Tahir.”

  Adam looked meaningfully at the others. If Nuh’s memory was correct, then that meant another suspect who might have murdered the Captain.

  “Tell us about Iyad,” Zaid urged.

  “Oh, he was quite a disagreeable man,” the old man wrinkled his face in distaste. “Always bad-tempered and ready to use his fists. He was Tahir’s only son and had two older sisters who coddled and spoiled him. He was married for several years until the poor woman took their daughter and fled back to her people up north. We all felt sorry for Tahir. He was getting on in years and instead of his son taking care of him, he was taking care of his son.”

  “But why was Iyad’s life in danger?” Zahra asked.

  “We never knew. Tahir would not tell us and we didn’t press him.”

  “Is Iyad still alive?” Layla asked.

  “We never saw hide nor hair of him again after we docked that night. Whoever was after him most likely killed him and buried his body someplace. Poor Tahir was a broken man afterwards. He used to wander around the docks at night looking for his son. Alas, he became almost like a lunatic before he too disappeared one night.”

  “Tahir disappeared too?” Zahra exclaimed.

  “Yes. It must have been about three months after the Night of Catastrophe. Although they searched and searched for him, his body was never found. Everyone thought he must have fallen over the docks in the night and his body washed out into the Bayan Strait.”

  “So not even Iyad’s mother and sisters knew who was after him?” Layla asked.

  “I don’t think they knew. Otherwise they would have talked, I’m sure. Only Tahir knew and his lips were sealed.”

  Finally, Zaid said, “Nuh, at the museum we saw the display of khanjars from the crew of the Yuhanza. One of them had a mark on the blade that looked like an English K. Do you remember seeing that one and who gave it?”

  They all waited with bated breath for Nuh’s answer.

  “I’m afraid I don’t recall seeing any mark. My eyesight started to go bad a long time ago and wearing glasses was just a nuisance. The mark wouldn’t have mattered to me anyhow. The most important thing was that we had all nine of the remaining khanjars, except for Rafiq’s, of course.”

  “Wait a moment,” Adam frowned. “If the Captain’s khanjar is at the bottom of the bay and Iyad disappeared on the Night of Catastrophe, then there should have been only eight khanjars at the museum, not nine.”

  “Aye, and it would have been so if Iyad’s bag had not been found outside his house the next morning. Whoever must have killed him did it right outside his house. The khanjar and his personal belongings were still inside the bag, so we gave them all to Tahir. When we were collecting stuff for the museum, his granddaughter sent us the khanjar.”

  “What a sad tale of father and son,” Layla said. “It’s a mystery that no one learned who was after Iyad.”

  “The only person who might have known was Jafar Ambreen. He and Iyad had been best friends.”

  “Jafar Ambreen?” Adam queried. “Was he related to the present day Ambreens living here in Bayan Bay?”

  “Jafar Ambreen was Faruq Ambreen’s father.”

  “Faruq Ambreen,” Zahra repeated the name. “Isn’t he the richest man in Bayan Bay? And wasn’t he one of the men who came to Jumu’ah in that white limousine?”

  “Yes,” Zaid nodded as he remembered the look of animosity on the man’s face. “That’s him.”

  “The Ambreens,” Nuh said, “were much poorer in the old days and did not have a smidgen of the wealth that they have today. If Jafar Ambreen had knowledge of what happened to Iyad, he might have passed it on to his son Faruq.”

  Moving on with the questions, Adam asked. “Nuh, what ports did you sail to on that last voyage?”

  “Well, now,” Nuh’s forehead wrinkled as he searched his memory. “We were going to Yemen, so our direction was straightforward. From the Gulf, we sailed across the Strait of Hormuz. I think we may have stopped over in Bandar Abbas in Iran. Then we continued on to the Gulf of Oman and dropped anchor at Muscat…or was it Salalah?” the old man looked uncertain. “After that, we continued across the Arabian Sea until we reached the Gulf of Aden. We then crossed the Bab Al Mandib into the Red Sea and docked at Al Hudaybah in Yemen.”

  Zaid marveled that the old man could have almost perfect recall of their journey fifty-seven years later.

  “And on the way back, did you stop at the same ports?” Layla asked. Her question made them realize that there had been no mention of Ghassan, where, according to Shaykh Sulaiman, the Captain had bought the Moon.

  “No, no. On our return journey, we came straight back home. And what a horrible homecoming awaited us.” The old man’s face clouded over as he remembered the horror of the Night of Catastrophe.

  “So you don’t recall stopping over in Ghassan?” Layla asked.

  “Ghassan?” Nuh looked uncertain again. “Now that you mention it, I think we went there first to pick up some cargo before heading for Yemen. I had quite forgotten about that.”

  The teenagers shared a meaningful look before Adam asked, “Nuh, before the Captain died, he told Grandpa about a diamond he had brought back and hidden in the house. Did you k
now anything about it?”

  “A diamond you say?” Nuh frowned in thought. Then his brows cleared and he said, “Why, your great-grandmother Saffiyah asked the crewmen that same very question after Rafiq was murdered by the rebels. If he brought back such a gem, we had no idea. We weren’t in the habit of prying into each other’s business. At the time, we all thought that the rebels must have stolen it if Rafiq indeed brought one back. Or if he left it on the Yuhanza, it perished that night when the ship was set on fire. Fire…” he repeated softly. “There was so much fire. Everywhere you looked, there was fire.” Nuh stared off into space, a faraway look in his eyes.

  “The pirates are coming,” He struggled to his feet, his eyes terrified. “They have cannons, they’ll set us on fire. Get the rafts, we must leave at once.” The old man’s breathing escalated as he looked wildly around him. The teenagers stood up in alarm at the swift change in him.

  “Layla, go and get Salma,” Adam said before he and Zaid took firm hold of Nuh and set him gently back into the recliner.

  “It’s okay, Nuh,” Zaid spoke soothingly. “The pirates are gone now.”

  “They’ll come back,” the old man whimpered. “I know they will. But you’ve got to stop them.” He grasped Adam’s arm, his mouth working. “Rafiq… you must forgive me. You trusted me, and I betrayed you.” The old man’s face puckered up as if he was about to cry.

  Salma came hurrying into the room, Layla at her heels.

  “Oh my, he didn’t last too long, did he?” the nurse cast an anxious look at her patient. “There, there,” she crooned, placing her hand reassuringly on his shoulder. “Take it easy now. Everything’s all right.” Nuh looked so much like a bewildered child that Zaid felt a great rush of pity for him even as he wondered if the old man had been the one to murder the Captain.

  “His mind’s gone again,” Salma said. “Allah knows when it will return. I’ll have to give him his medication now. Why don’t you go and wash up in the meantime? Lunch is already laid out in the dining room.”

  A short while later, the teenagers thanked Salma and headed out of the courtyard with their bikes. They were comfortably full from a delicious lunch of baked swordfish in sesame sauce and their only thought now was to get home and rest. They followed the same route back but there was no sign of the little ‘ragamuffins’ as Salma had referred to them. Zaid was not surprised since it was the time of day when everyone sought the coolness and comfort of their home, away from the relentless sun.